Persuading evangelicals not to vote Republican
Author note: This article was originally published during the 2020 election. Broadly speaking, white evangelical culture has further radicalized in the years since. Parts of this article may still be helpful in your circumstances, so I have decided to leave it unedited. I encourage you to think through your own surroundings and not consider anything here to be a silver bullet. - Mark
In January, I received a call from a guy I met at a speaking engagement several years ago. He was part of an informal group of Christians living in red and purple states coming together for a conversation about the 2020 election. He invited me to join their first online meeting the following week. “This is right up your alley,” he promised.
The next week I logged in to find around 40 people. We were asked to introduce ourselves, where we lived, and where we fell on the political spectrum. It was a mixed group from several states. As one would expect, the conservatives outnumbered the liberals and progressives. There were roughly the same number of men and women.
We all had one thing in common though: we were all followers of Christ who are constantly in white evangelical bubbles that double as Republican strongholds.
One of the organizers welcomed us, then said we had to agree to two things to continue in the meeting:
We would put aside our political differences for the rest of 2020.
We would persuade as many Evangelicals as possible to not vote for Donald Trump and Republicans in November.
If anyone didn’t want to take part, they could leave and wouldn’t be judged.
No one left.
We each pledged to persuade at least 25 white evangelicals by November. We would check in with each other and share best practices. “Godspeed,” and the meeting was over as quickly as it began.
We prepared for battles. We found people trapped in lonely frustration instead.
White evangelicals aren’t the monolith they are made out to be on TV. There’s growing disagreement on a variety of issues in American evangelicalism, especially along a Baby Boomer-Millennial fault line that is in the early stages of exploding.
Evangelical leaders have mostly failed to offer answers — much less explanations — for pressing issues like racism, the pandemic, and this election. Some evangelicals are looking for practical solutions to these real-world problems, and they’re venturing out of their bubbles to find them.
The last of us crossed the finish line early in mid-August. Not all of our conversations went well, but most went better than expected. Several white evangelicals we talked to just needed affirmation that it was okay to abandon the Republican Party. Some others became verbally and spiritually abusive and couldn’t be persuaded.
The bulk of the evangelicals we talked to though were frustrated and emotionally battered. We listened as they released pent-up grief and despair kept hidden these past few years. It was encouraging to see their relief when they were met with empathy instead of an attempt to control or cancel them, two experiences that are endemic in white evangelical culture.
Simply put, we found tangible ways to push through the polarization and generational divides that so many evangelical pastors and elders bemoan, yet do nothing of substance to resolve. We crossed the Rubicon despite years of warnings that doing so would flip the boat.
Unsurprisingly, the boat did not capsize, and most everyone was better off because a real conversation was had.
A Guide For Persuasion
Our group has now parted ways, with most starting similar new groups in their communities. Part of my job is sorting through large amounts of information, connecting dots, and pulling together key narratives, so I was asked to write this short guide of our experiences for anyone to use.
The following is what we all agreed to be most effective in persuading white evangelicals not to vote for Donald Trump and his Republican enablers. It all relates to this election only. Nothing is 100% effective, nor will these points fix the larger problems that are crippling white evangelicalism. However, they can help lay the groundwork for bigger conversations down the road that are long overdue.
1. Donald Trump and his Republican enablers are destroying the Christian witness for a generation, if not longer.
This was hands down the most powerful persuasion point. It helped overcome many of the justifications we’ve heard since 2015 for supporting Trump and the Republican Party. Justifications like:
“I wish Trump was nicer, but I like the judges he picks.”
“I know a lot of Congressional Republicans are mean-spirited people, but they’re the only ones who can stop the socialists from destroying America. God can use terrible people.”
“I voted for him because he was the lesser of two evils.”
“I know he’s not really a Christian, but he agrees with me on the big issues I care about. And he’s actually doing something about them.”
The trade off many white evangelicals have made with Trump has been turning a blind eye to or downplaying his severe lack of morality in exchange for perceived short term political and cultural gains. White evangelical support for Trump is more complex than that, but this is the core permission structure that allows white evangelicals to continue supporting Trump and his Republican enablers.
It’s the permission structure that needs to be broken. You break it by pointing to the high cost: it’s killing the Church’s witness.
Flipping these justifications on their head by putting them in the context of our everyday lives was highly effective in making the case that who Trump is makes any perceived gains useless. Asking questions such as:
“If your pastor talked publicly about wanting to have sex with his daughter, do you think he would still have his job? Do you think our community would take our church seriously?”
“If your spouse cheated on you with a pornstar months after you gave birth to a baby, would your church applaud them?”
“If two of your elders did morally reprehensible things, but one was allowed to remain an elder because he was considered slightly less bad than the other, would you trust your church’s leadership anymore? Would our community trust our church anymore?”
“If your pastor said certain people were from s — hole countries, how do you think that would be received by our community?”
“Why should the most powerful person in the world have fewer consequences and be held to a lower standard for their words and actions than the rest of us? If I said half the things Donald Trump says, people wouldn’t take the Gospel I say I believe in seriously.”
What makes questions like these even more effective is providing a reminder that non-believers have a decent understanding of what the Church is called to be from a practical perspective. Some people might not understand the spiritual aspects of being a Christian, but know that Christians are supposed to be upstanding people. We aren’t supposed to cheat on our spouses. We aren’t supposed to abuse power. We aren’t supposed to be corrupt. We’re supposed to stand up for the oppressed and serve the needy.
Donald Trump and today’s Republican Party are the opposite of many of these things, often in shockingly systemic ways.
The world sees clearly the immense hypocrisy in white evangelical support for Trump and his Congressional Republican enablers. The next generation of the movement’s leaders are leaving in droves. American culture is increasingly not taking evangelicals seriously. We know white evangelicals know this because these realities are talked about a lot with excessive hand-wringing in white evangelical bubbles.
The bottom line? The damage Trump and the Republican Party can inflict on the Christian witness isn’t coming. It’s happening right now, in real time. Not voting for Trump and his Republican enablers is the first logical move to begin the hard work of reversing that trend.
2. The Church and the country need a vision. Donald Trump and modern Republicanism offer only fear.
A common theme in our conversations was how frustrated and emotionally drained the white evangelicals we talked to are. We heard:
“I’m tired of how polarized we are. I just want it to stop.”
“I just want things to be normal again and it seems like that will never happen.”
“I’m scared of what happens no matter who wins the election. Both sides are so angry right now.”
“I’m sick of being told what I have to be against. I need to know what I’m supposed to stand for and how I am supposed to do it.”
It’s easy to hear the pain in these words. That last quote is worth honing in on for a moment. It says a lot about the state of white evangelicalism and offers another powerful point of persuasion.
Today’s white evangelicalism has no vision for the future. Every church is different of course. Virtually everyone in our group knows of at least one evangelical church with a strong, Gospel-centered vision that is relevant to the time we are in. But those churches are an increasingly rare breed. Matthew 9:35–37 is certainly an apt depiction of our time.
In most of our conversations with evangelicals, we heard a real desire for action with regards to racism, political polarization, wealth inequality, drug addiction, and more. These are issues that are not only crippling our country, but are making inroads to our churches or have been thinly concealed inside them for years.
What we heard was a real desire for the biblical definition of justice. Rarely do white evangelical pastors and elders address issues like these with practicality. When they do, it is often so watered-down they don’t provide ways for white evangelicals to be and do better.
Racism? Here’s a single sermon about why it’s bad, then back to normal programming. Polarization? The occasional comment that we should find unity, with no practical steps or resources provided to get there. Preparing the next generation of leaders? We should probably start taking that seriously, then no effort made to create structures and processes to make that possible.
In Matthew 5, Jesus teaches “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” This is where many white evangelical leaders come up short: they use words to try to keep a false peace instead of taking action to make real, lasting peace. There is a world of difference between those two approaches.
The bottom line is that many white evangelicals have been set up to fail. The result is that Republican extremism and nationalism — and the fear they instill — are filling in the visionless void. The Gospel is disappearing and being replaced with dangerous white Christian nationalism, conspiracy theory, and polarization.
The point of persuasion here is simple and straightforward: it doesn’t have to be this way. Removing Donald Trump and Republicanism from their prominent pedestals both in government and in white evangelicalism won’t fix the bigger challenges we face today, but there is no chance progress will be made as long as they are in power.
Here are just a few ways to say all of this:
“I want the polarization to stop too, but I believe we need to make that happen instead of waiting for it to happen. We need to stop voting for people like Donald Trump and his enablers because they are making all of this worse and driving people even further apart.”
“I don’t know if things will ever go back to normal, but I know there’s zero chance of that happening as long as the most polarizing person in the country is in power.”
“I’m tired of being told what I have to be against too. I think as believers, we should stand for peace and bring people together in this difficult time we are all in. That’s why I’ve decided to not vote for Donald Trump and the Republican Party that enables him. They make it impossible for us to bring people together.”
The best way to overcome frustration caused by the inaction of leaders is to act ourselves. There are no signs that a widespread movement of white evangelical leaders have the willpower to spring into action and truly lead us through this chaotic time. It’s on us.
3. Making the case that the other issues matter too
Abortion came up a lot in our conversations. While there are other issues that white evangelicals care about, this is the one that drives so much of the American evangelical worldview. Some white evangelicals will sacrifice Biblically-supported moral positions, the hopeful witness of the Church, and even other human beings to see that abortion becomes illegal. It’s disheartening and painful to see this level of vitriol, but it’s worth remembering that not all evangelicals are willing to burn everything down over one issue.
Still, this is where many of us stumbled at the beginning of our journey to persuade white evangelicals to abandon the Republican Party. We entered into the fray, either to debate or try to show there is common ground, and it only ended in culture war. Even the conservatives in our group who take a hardline position on abortion were verbally decimated when they said they wouldn’t be voting Republican this election.
The bitterness around this issue in white evangelical culture often knows no bounds, is unpersuasive, and drives people away from the Gospel and each other. That’s why it’s best to just avoid it altogether. Here are some ways we were able to shift the conversation to other issues that white evangelicals say they care about:
“I understand abortion is something you care a lot about, but we are called to care about a lot of things, like God’s sovereignty. Donald Trump says ‘there will be no God’ if he is not reelected. I can’t vote for a man who thinks God’s existence relies on him. That’s heresy.”
“I know you care a lot about abortion, but as Christians, we’re called to care about refugees and people being persecuted. The Republican Party has gotten really hostile toward refugees and other people who had to leave their home and are trying to come here to start a new life. Donald Trump even called some countries that refugees come from ‘s — holes’. I can’t get on board with this hatred.”
“I hear you. I really do, but I believe the Bible makes it clear families and community are very important. I just can’t support a man who separates children from their mothers and locks them in cages. Family matters a lot to me, and I can’t imagine what I would do if that happened to mine.”
To their credit, most white evangelicals who expressed concern about abortion heard us out on these points, and allowed the conversation to go there. Some of us were even surprised when people agreed that the burn-it-all-down approach some white evangelicals take is misguided. Others expressed true dismay at some of the things Donald Trump has done the past few years that we brought up, especially his constant lying, name-calling, and provocative lifestyle choices.
How were we able to get to this point in the conversation? We removed the issue that paralyzes so many white evangelicals from the conversation. We didn’t fight, agree, or try to find common ground on it. We shifted the focus to other things. In the end, it’s hard to tell if making the case that other issues matter is what really moved people’s hearts. At the very least, it helped diffuse the anger around the single issue that paralyzes so much of white evangelicalism, allowing our other points of persuasion to break through.
4. Making the case that it’s time for Evangelicals to journey into the political wilderness.
There’s a false belief in much of Evangelical culture that if you don’t vote Republican, you have to vote Democrat or you are allowing a Democrat to win. This is a lie. There are third party candidates, write-in options…you can even decide not to vote, although we tend not to agree with that approach. Everyone in our group knows white evangelicals who did not vote for Trump in 2016. He still won.
At some point along the way, everyone in our group heard “But I can’t vote for Biden because…”
That’s perfectly fine. No one is forcing them to vote for anyone. They’re just being asked not to vote for Donald Trump and his Republican enablers, because of the catastrophic damage they are inflicting on the Church’s witness. Not voting for Republicans is a big step for many white evangelicals. Pushing them to vote for Democratic or third party candidates instead is often a step too far. Only talk about your preferences if they ask and you can tell they are genuinely curious.
White evangelical culture screams that your political home has to be the Republican Party. This is heresy. It’s past time for white evangelicals to journey out of Republicanism and into the political wilderness, where the Gospel eagerly awaits to be rediscovered.
Additional Quick Tips
There are a number of other approaches we used that did not make it in here for brevity’s sake. Here are a few broader points worth keeping in the back of your mind though:
Be prepared to listen…a lot. Most of our conversations involved more listening than talking. White evangelicals are forced to process what Trump and the Republican Party are doing every week, identical to pretty much everyone else. We are all denied the privilege of going a single day without having to tune into politics and governance.
The one difference is that white evangelical leaders and culture often suppress dissenting views, questions, and critiques of the political right, and sometimes conversations about politics altogether. This reality has left some white evangelicals with pent up frustration and growing needs to verbally process their thoughts and feelings. You may be the only person they can talk to about these things. Be there for them.
Reach out to people you think are persuadable. Try talking to the white evangelicals you know who show curiosity or who stay uncomfortably silent when issues of politics and governance comes up. Both are normally signs that there is room to persuade, softly and with empathy.
Don’t assume the worst of anyone. Everyone in our group knows white evangelicals who did not vote for Trump in 2016 or Republicans in 2018. Similar to the people we convinced not to vote for Trump and Republicans this November, they felt beaten down by how mainstream media makes it sound like all white evangelicals are a horde of MAGA hats. They are right in believing that is unfair, because it is. Odds are you will get a diversity of responses in your conservations. If you go in to engage, listen, and persuade…not win or prove a point…you’ll see more success.
Be prepared for gaslighting and abuse, and know when and how to walk away. We all experienced the sad reality that white evangelical culture is often domineering, controlling, and abusive. One of our moderate members was so effective at persuading people at her church in Georgia that an elder physically cornered and threatened to expel her. A conservative member was subjected to gaslighting by an elder and told he was really just “angry” because “everything is more complex than he realizes” and he “can’t understand,” a final straw in a long series of events that made him decide to leave his church in Kentucky of 12 years. I was called dumb and weak in some…creative…ways at least a half dozen times. Virtually all of us had our faith questioned in haughty and abusive ways at least once.
Being prepared for moments like these is never easy. If you are met with unrelenting hostility, gently say that maybe it’s best not to discuss this right now and exit the conversation. If someone starts throwing verbal punches, the chances of you persuading them are already gone. Just move on.
Final Thoughts
We are living in the logical conclusion of extreme right-wing minority rule: a raging pandemic, economic catastrophe, and the open wounds of racial injustice. Conspiracy theory and entrenched polarization surround us. Legislating has been usurped by culture war. Bold, empathetic leadership has been whittled down into hand-wringing apathy.
Even if Trump and his Republican enablers lose in November, there are no guarantees we will make the quick progress that is now direly needed. A Biden Administration will enter governance to find critical institutions gutted and sabotaged by the far-right. Congressional Republicans will almost certainly be more obstructive and subversive in defeat. The dual threats of white Christian nationalism and invisible pandemic will fester.
The American Church, already in decline before the pandemic, will continue her slow drift into the dire straits of irrelevancy. Many of our churches resumed in person Sunday gatherings several weeks ago. We all noticed the glaring absence of once engaged younger members who pushed all of us to be better. To be relevant. To live the Gospel.
Some are exasperated by years of broken promises from pastors and elders who said they would invest in and support us, so that needed change can begin taking root. Others are tired of watching our leaders say they’re going to get serious about issues such as racism, and then not allow us to be a part of any such effort, on the rare occasion any real effort is made at all. These were future leaders in our churches, and they aren’t coming back. They’re done waiting for promises that will never be delivered on.
Others are waiting for the pandemic to end. These younger generations will return forever changed by the second “once-in-a-lifetime” economic catastrophe we have lived through in a mere 15 years. We have watched on our screens for months as fellow congregants embrace the new religion of far-right conspiracy and ideological rage. Many of us, conservative and liberal, will no longer begrudgingly accept the existence of Christian nationalism, led by many in white evangelicalism. For years, our leaders quietly told us behind closed doors that it was just a fringe view, destined to die with the older generation. Just keep your head down. It will eventually go away. We now know that, at best, this was a severe miscalculation. It is inherently anti-Gospel, unjust, and dangerous. It is heresy, therefore it must be rejected whenever we see and hear it.
We have come to terms with our reality: we have been set up to turn on each other. By our government, whose executive openly encourages violence and seeks to divide for political gain. By many of our church leaders, who, for reasons that range from mind-numbing fears of change to a corrupt desire to retain power and status at all costs, are willing to allow sin and polarization to flourish, setting our churches up to die after they are gone, because they believe it won’t impact them right now. And yes, sometimes by each other, for embracing the fight instead of trying to make peace in good faith.
The only way out is through. The only way through is binding ourselves to fellow agents of change, embracing radical and relentless empathy, and showing people the beginning of the road out of the wreckage.
Dark skies lie ahead, but rays of hope are breaking through on the horizon. As our group decided to go separate ways to multiply our effort, there was a sense of cautious optimism. One of our youngest members, a brilliant 23-year-old woman in South Carolina, had these words of wisdom:
“I’ve channelled my anger into helping others accept what they already know deep down. That none of this is okay. That longing for a more hopeful future isn’t wrong. That departing from the ways of the past isn’t criminal.
If we all do our small part and refuse to give up on those around us, maybe we’ll be okay. I just hope enough people step forward with empathy, before it’s too late.”
There has never been a better or more needed time to persuade. We would all be wise to heed her words. Failing to do so will take white evangelicals down a terrifying road there is no coming back from.
I explore faith and American church culture from Memphis, TN. Never miss an article by signing up for my free newsletter or becoming a member. You can also subscribe to my podcast.