What evangelicals get out of Donald Trump

The arena at Liberty University was packed on Martin Luther King Jr. Day with a large crowd. Attendance at convocation is required for students, but the response to that day’s guest, the celebrated Donald Trump, was considerably more than polite. Jerry Falwell Jr., the university’s president, introduced the leading contender for the Republican nomination for president with the highest praise: “In my opinion, Donald Trump lives a life of loving and helping others as Jesus taught in the great commandment.”

This reception, and Trump’s apparent high level of evangelical support, 42 percent according to one poll, is one of the great puzzles of the presidential campaign. Nonetheless, Trump’s candidacy gives insight into what a sizable portion of white evangelicalism wants politically in 2016.

Since Ronald Reagan assembled his conservative coalition in 1980, evangelicals have united behind a social agenda opposing the sexual revolution and its monstrous prerequisite, abortion. To preserve their Christian way of life, evangelicals have also supported a muscular stance abroad and small government at home to protect against communist or Islamist invasion and secularizing governmental intrusion.

But now they are leaning toward Trump, the legendary New York City real estate developer and self-promoter. This is odd given his three marriages (Mark 10:2-12), lifelong love of money (Hebrews 13:5), deep involvement in the gambling industry (1 Timothy 6:17), and a publicly foul mouth (Ephesians 5:4), to say nothing of his past positions on abortion and gay rights. (This enthusiasm noticeably departs from WORLD’s monthly survey of evangelical thought leaders, who give Sens. Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz strong support while leaving Trump far back in the pack.)

On one level, evangelicals are like everyone else in the Trump camp. “Make America great again” resonates because America has become an international pushover. But Trump’s defiance of political correctness appeals to evangelicals specifically. They are tired of being shamed by secular morality while Christian morality is shamelessly scorned and publicly condemned. They are concerned again for their way of life. The war against Christian bakers and florists and anyone—no matter how gracious—who offends a homosexual or a Muslim has believers looking for a champion.

Political correctness intersects with illegal immigration and terror. Trump’s call for a temporary ban on all Muslim immigration caused a scandal, but many evangelicals cheered under the weight of growing Muslim influence and cultural privilege.

Seeing this response, Trump has been boosting Christian civilization. He began his campaign celebrating the Bible in general without mentioning specifics. With similarly vague affirmations, he proclaimed at Liberty, “If I’m president, you’re going to see ‘Merry Christmas’ in department stores, believe me.” He vows to “protect Christianity” in lands like Syria, where Christians are being slaughtered. Other candidates have strong personal Christian faith, but Trump, whose faith is obviously nominal, talks about somehow restoring the normality of Christianity. He’s not clear on it.

In his address at Iowa’s Dordt College Saturday, Trump lamented that “Christianity is under siege.” But despite being a sizable majority of the country, Christians “don’t exert the power we should have.” Despite his previously distant relationship with the Christian faith, Trump is promising Christians a return to power and cultural dominance through his presidential intercession.

Contrary to secularist fears, evangelicals have never wanted anything resembling theocracy, but only a broadly Christian culture reflected in mores, the media, and public policy. But if we look to a tough guy president to deliver this, we absurdly expect a Christian country without the re-conversion of our countrymen. We want by strength of office what comes only by the weakness of the cross.