By Abby McCloskey*

Rarely, if ever, in American history has political allegiance to a party been so closely associated with religious belief. According to the Pew Research Center, a white evangelical churchgoer in the US today has an 82% chance of being a Trump supporter, which means that churches are also becoming more politically homogenous.

There may be understandable reasons why this has happened—Democrats haven’t exactly welcomed Christians with open arms—but it limits the interactions of people of the same faith with different political views, making it easier to confuse piety with electoral standards.

I am reminded of some wise words from half a century ago: “The danger of mistaking our merely natural, though perhaps legitimate, enthusiasm for holy zeal is always great,” wrote the legendary theologian CS Lewis.

Among many white evangelical Christians, there is a sense of divine providence surrounding the Trump administration. I am concerned about this – and what it may ultimately cost the church.

From the beginning of Trump’s first election campaign, his supporters talked about reclaiming the country for God, away from secular progressives. This reputation was strengthened after the two failed assassination attempts on the president. That the bullet missed its target was attributed to God’s mercy and providence.

Then came the funeral of Turning Point USA founder Charlie Kirk, which WSJ columnist Peggy Noonan rightly called the biggest evangelical event in America since the heyday of evangelist Billy Graham — but this time, with top Republican figures in attendance.

In the Middle East we had a temporary peace. All the living hostages have returned to Israel and food is gradually arriving in Gaza, creating the impression that only someone with God’s favor could bridge the gap.

Certainly, Christians should pray and work for peace, rejoice when a tragedy is averted and cheer when the Gospel is spread. However, the confluence of events has created an implicit and, at times, explicit messianic complex in Republican party politics, that God works exclusively through a party, an individual, and a nation.

To be on the opposite side is not only to be on the wrong side of political history, but also of faith itself, or so supporters of the Republican party may decide. This is dangerous ground.

This does not mean that Christians should stay away from politics. It means that Christianity should not be shrunk and compressed to fit modern political parties, nor should its power be used to justify or condone the actions of any politician.

The late pastor, Tim Keller, warned that America’s two-party system is drawing arbitrary lines in orthodox Christianity. This has proven historically true. Consider one party’s priority to end abortion and the other’s priority to help the poor. Therefore, Christians should be cautious if they feel comfortable with either party. Christians are called to love without limits and certainly beyond political alliances.

But the cost is not only the division and deprioritization of religious teachings if they do not fit our political context. The cost is also that a religious cloak has the power to mask what may really lie beneath.

The Republican Party is not (yet) an explicitly Christian party. However, many white Protestant Christians see no political alternative. President Joe Biden has excluded religious child care services from his “Build Back Better” plan.

According to a survey conducted earlier this year, nearly 6 in 10 Christians say the Democratic Party is “hostile” to their religion.

The danger is that if Republicans and Trump are seen as the only hospitable political shelter for white Christians, it will become harder to challenge ICE raids on vulnerable people or punishments meted out to political opponents.

The merging of church and state also gives the unchurched one more reason to move further away from the church. Christianity becomes like any other identity group, seeking self-protection and political power.

No wonder so many people are spiritually disillusioned and politically disillusioned.

But lately I’ve been thinking that disappointment can actually bring us closer to the ancient roots of Christianity. Jesus of Nazareth was born into a corrupt political system, with a corrupt religious establishment.

In this reality, “history did not repeat the story of the victim of oppression who, in the name of justice, dethrones the oppressor and takes his place on the same throne by the same means of oppression,” writes theologian Lesslie Newbigin in The Gospel in a Pluralistic Society. (As is largely the case with the vindictive, polarized politics we see today).

Jesus loved, healed and shared with everyone, regardless of their gender, ethnicity, politics and religion. His refusal to follow society’s old rules gave him a new form of power. Certainly this has an increasing resonance among the politically exhausted and spiritually disillusioned.

Enthusiasm in politics is a positive thing. Ascribing the will of God to a political party is something entirely different. Given the overlap between Christianity and politics these days, Republicans should be especially careful.

* Abby McCloskey is a columnist, podcast host and consultant. She directed domestic policy in two presidential campaigns and was director of economic policy at the American Enterprise Institute.