A growing number of candidates in this year’s midterms are positioning themselves as religious progressives, but their adherence to faith is deeply questionable. One candidate has chosen a pastor who denies the historical existence of Jesus Christ and believes He did not die for humanity’s sins. Another claims Scripture is inaccurate on sexuality. A third openly criticizes public Christian displays and advocates for their eradication. And a fourth opposes bans on youth “sex changes”—a term critics describe as sexual-mutilation surgery.
All these candidates are running in the midterms, proudly showcasing their faith as a reason to vote for them. Their impact could be significant: if James Talarico (D-Texas) and Adam Hamilton (D–Kan.) win on November 3, Democrats are likely to take control of the Senate.
In Iowa, two religious-left candidates—Lutheran minister Sarah Trone Garriott and Presbyterian pastor Lindsay James—are locked in tight races for the state House. Both have adopted positions that challenge traditional Christian views.
The political motivation is straightforward. Historically, the “religious right” has been a major force, with white evangelical Protestants and Catholics leaning Republican. A recent Axios report reveals that among Texas registered voters, Republican Ken Paxton leads Presbyterian candidate James Talarico by 75% to 22% among white evangelical Christians.
The bottom line: capturing even a small percentage of this group in conservative states could determine election outcomes.
Axios notes that Talarico, a Presbyterian seminary student, and Hamilton, a United Methodist pastor, are challenging the idea that conservatives speak for faith. Their campaigns follow the 2021 Senate victory of Democrat Raphael Warnock, senior pastor of Ebenezer Baptist Church.
For Talarico, Axios reports he uses Christianity to “soften” his leftism. In Kansas, Hamilton’s strategy focuses on replicating Democratic Governor Laura Kelly’s coalition rather than appealing directly to religious voters.
Pastors often excel in public communication—being articulate and eloquent—which can outweigh ideological rigor. Candidates’ actual positions, however, are frequently hidden behind a veneer of faith.
This concept of being “religious” is misunderstood. Consider: if someone said “John is political,” would that reveal their beliefs? Not necessarily—they could be a Marxist or Nazi. Similarly, the term “religion” is a category, not a creed. The Aztecs and 9/11 terrorists were religious but held violent ideologies.
Some argue that something cannot be a “religion” if it’s not “good.” While well-intended, this view overlooks differences among believers.
When people ask, “So-and-so believes in God,” the answer is clear: many do—but they reject God’s ways. The non-religious may wonder why this matters. Legally, people can believe what they wish. Yet authenticity and credibility matter more than legal rights. Cynically using faith for political gain is dangerous—just as Jesus warned against false prophets.
Examining these candidates reveals stark realities:
James Talarico has long supported the left, including abortion and “transgenderism.” A lesbian minister at his church, Reverend Babs Miller, admitted on undercover video that Talarico’s recent shift toward the political middle is a performance. She stated his mother would kill him if he ever wavered from his leftist beliefs.
Adam Hamilton in Kansas believes in abortion rights, thinks the Bible misinterprets homosexuality, and supports same-sex marriage in church ceremonies. He claims Christian teachings on homosexuality should be “thrown into a bucket” of non-divine matters.
Sarah Trone Garriott objects to public Christian displays, such as an image of a woman holding a sign reading “one nation under God, indivisible”—a phrase from the Pledge of Allegiance. Lindsay James opposes youth “sex changes,” including puberty blockers and hormone therapy for children, despite her support for sexual-mutilation surgeries.
In light of these positions, can it be said that the religious left has abandoned the idea of being religious? The answer is no—but whether they are truly Christian or even fit for office remains a separate question.