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Get this! In the rough-and-tumble arena of American politics, faith has long served as both shield and sword. Candidates invoke Scripture to signal virtue, connect with voters, and claim moral high ground—until those same teachings become politically inconvenient. A recent example emerged when Senator Cory Booker declared that Jesus would stand with "the gay kids" and "the trans kids" being "demonized" and "vilified" in today's society.

Booker’s statement, delivered with pastoral conviction, taps into a familiar rhetorical strategy. Jesus did associate with societal outcasts—tax collectors, prostitutes, and the marginalized. He famously told the accusers of the adulterous woman, “Let him who is without sin among you cast the first stone.”

Politicians frequently cite these moments to frame modern identity politics as an extension of Christ’s compassion. Yet this selective reading often sidesteps the fuller context of Jesus’ ministry: calls to repentance, warnings against sexual immorality, and the insistence that love involves truth, not affirmation of every desire.

This pattern reveals a deeper hypocrisy. For years, many on the political left have warned ominously about “Christian nationalism,” portraying traditional expressions of faith—such as a Jerusalem cross tattoo—as symbols of extremism and threats to democracy. When Pete Hegseth faced scrutiny over his own Christian symbols during nomination processes, critics leaped to equate personal piety with authoritarianism. Yet when electoral advantage beckons, particularly among voters wrestling with cultural change, the same voices rediscover Jesus as a convenient ally for progressive causes.

The phenomenon extends beyond one senator. Figures like Texas state Representative James Talarico have similarly reinterpreted Christianity to align with left-wing priorities on abortion and gender, while dismissing traditional moral teachings. This “progressive Christianity” reframes the faith as primarily about social justice and radical inclusion, downplaying doctrines on human sexuality, the sanctity of life, or personal holiness that have defined Christianity for two millennia.

Jesus becomes less the Son of God who died for sins and more a first-century activist dispensing affirmations.

History shows this is not new. Politicians across the spectrum have wielded religion opportunistically. Southern segregationists once cited Scripture to defend Jim Crow. Abolitionists countered with biblical arguments for equality. In modern times, both parties have cherry-picked verses. But the speed with which some discard traditional Christianity when it conflicts with cultural orthodoxy is striking.

Consider the broader electoral calculus. In a polarized nation, appealing to religious voters remains potent. Polls consistently show millions of Americans still identify as Christian and value moral leadership. Invoking Jesus reassures moderate or conflicted believers that supporting expansive progressive positions does not conflict with their faith.

Yet when those same Christian principles challenge core leftist tenets—opposition to abortion, emphasis on biological sex, or skepticism toward expansive government—the rhetoric shifts dramatically. Suddenly, public displays of faith in schools or courtrooms are “theocracy.” Traditional believers are labeled extremists. The Jerusalem cross that adorns personal devotion or even a former president’s funeral program becomes suspect.

This convenience-driven approach erodes trust. Authentic faith demands consistency. Christianity’s moral framework, rooted in creation order, human dignity, and redemption through repentance, cannot be infinitely malleable without losing its essence. When politicians treat it as a rhetorical tool—deployed for votes, shelved for policy—it cheapens both religion and public discourse.

Voters should demand better. Genuine compassion for struggling individuals, including children navigating identity confusion, does not require rewriting theology. True mercy, as modeled by the Great Physician, involves both acceptance of the person and a call to wholeness.

This deceitful rhetoric reduces Jesus to a mascot for contemporary social movements and does a disservice to believers and non-believers alike.

Candidates will quote the Beatitudes when convenient and ignore the Sermon on the Mount when it isn’t.

The discerning public must recognize the difference between faith informing politics and politics hijacking faith. In a healthy republic, religion should challenge power, not merely serve it. When Christianity becomes just another disposable lever in the pursuit of office, something essential to the nation’s moral fabric is lost.