Over the weekend, an estimated 5 million Americans gathered in more than 2,000 cities across the country to protest what they saw as creeping authoritarianism and religious nationalism.
The “No Kings Day” demonstrations were organized in response to President Donald Trump’s elaborate military parade in Washington, D.C. on Saturday. The protests were put together by more than 200 organizations, including MoveOn, the American Civil Liberties Union, the American Federation of Teachers and more. The protests also drew interfaith support, with many Christian demonstrators citing the Gospel as their reason for showing up. Signs quoting Jesus’ teachings on humility and peace were held aloft beside banners declaring, “In America, we don’t do kings.”
But for many young believers, this wasn’t just about one parade. It was about reclaiming a faith that feels increasingly co-opted by politics. And it raised a familiar, complicated question: How do you faithfully engage politics in a moment like this—without losing your soul in the process?
A 2023–24 Pew study found that while overall Christian affiliation continues to decline in the U.S., religious engagement has started to stabilize among Gen Z. Surprisingly, the percentage of young men who identify as Christian and regularly attend church ticked upward over the past year. But this growing interest in faith doesn’t necessarily translate to alignment with traditional political camps.
According to a report by the Voter Study Group, only 60% of white evangelicals under 45 support Donald Trump, compared to nearly 80% of their older counterparts. Younger evangelicals are also more likely to support immigration reform, racial justice efforts and climate policy. Many are rethinking what it means to be faithful in a politically fraught culture—and what it looks like to resist being defined by it.
“Christianity redefines political engagement by expanding our definition of politics and by challenging us to enter the ‘gaps’ in society,” theologian Jonathan Leeman.
That distinction was on display in Los Angeles earlier this month, where dozens of clergy—including pastors, rabbis and Buddhist monks—formed a human shield between ICE agents and civilians during a series of controversial raids. Among those detained was a pregnant woman who turned out to be a U.S. citizen.
“We respond to cruelty with courage,” Rabbi Sharon Brous said. “To hatred with love.”
The Rev. Edward Anderson of McCarty Memorial Christian Church helped organize the faith-led resistance. Ahead of the raids, he led workshops on nonviolent intervention and civil disobedience for clergy volunteers.
“It is imperative that people of faith speak out because silence in the face of injustice is complicity,” he said.
While some church leaders still argue that political neutrality is a mark of spiritual maturity, others say that kind of distance is a luxury young believers don’t have.
In Pennsylvania, the Rev. David Peck has taken a different approach—helping his congregation engage politics not by avoiding conflict, but by approaching it from a spiritually grounded place. He blends contemplative prayer with guided silence and scriptural reflection, inviting people to slow down long enough to ask what Christ might actually want from them in this moment.
“We do have great academic work and resources online, but they do need to be taught in community, and they need to be practiced,” Peck said. “Even if we know it in our heads, when we’re under stress and distress, it’s hard work.”
That kind of spiritual formation is more demanding than outrage—and more effective. While viral posts and trending hashtags come and go, the quiet, consistent work of building justice, peace and community often happens offline, in places no one is filming.
Scripture repeatedly reminds believers that our identity isn’t rooted in empire or ideology, but in Christ. In John 17, Jesus prayed that his followers would be “in the world, but not of it.” In Romans 12, Paul wrote that believers should not conform to the patterns of the world, but be transformed by the renewing of their minds. And in Jeremiah 29, God called his people to seek the welfare of the city—to be fully present in civic life, but not consumed by it.
For many twentysomething Christians, the answer isn’t disengagement—it’s doing the harder, quieter work of showing up with integrity.
Faithful political engagement doesn’t mean selling out your beliefs for influence. It means embodying those beliefs even when they’re inconvenient. It means refusing to idolize candidates or parties. It means advocating for the marginalized and telling the truth, even when it’s unpopular.
And maybe most of all, it means remembering that our hope was never supposed to be in a nation, a platform or a parade.
“Let your light shine before others,” Jesus said in Matthew 5:16, “that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”
In a divided age, that kind of witness is more radical—and more needed—than ever.
