The Problem With Pete Hegseth’s Christian Nationalism

Pete Hegseth, a man often held up as a voice of patriotism, has recently become the focus of scrutiny, not just for his political stances but also for his ties to Christian nationalism. Many people, including fellow Christians and conservatives, see him as capable of serving as Secretary of Defense. Yet, it's worth stepping back and examining what he represents—especially when mixing faith with power. His tattoos, symbols from the Crusades like the Jerusalem Cross, and the phrase "Deus Vult," have caught attention for all the wrong reasons. These aren't just symbols of faith; they come with a history tied to violence, exclusion, and extremism. And it's fair to ask, what message do these symbols send when you wear them in the halls of power?

Christian nationalism says that America was founded as a Christian nation, and therefore, it should operate as one—putting Christian values, or rather, one very specific interpretation of Christian values, above all else. On the surface, this might sound like a good thing. Who wouldn’t want our leaders to act with moral integrity? But there's a big difference between guiding your own life with Christian teachings and using the government to enforce them on everyone else. Amanda Tyler, the executive director of the Baptist Joint Committee, said it best: "Christian nationalism is a threat to both faith and democracy." Faith loses its power when it's forced—and democracy, which allows for freedom of thought and belief, simply cannot thrive under a banner of religious compulsion.

Look at Jesus’s teachings. He never called on his followers to force others to believe. He never told them to seize power so that they could dictate morality. Jesus invited people in, he led by example, he washed feet—he did not legislate people into faith. Christian nationalism, though, does the opposite. It seeks to control through government and to marginalize anyone who doesn’t fit within its narrow definition of what it means to be a "true American." That’s not Christianity. That's an attempt to wield power under the guise of religion, and it’s not only harmful to those being excluded but also to those of us who genuinely believe in the teachings of Christ.

Bishop Michael Curry of the Episcopal Church spoke out clearly against this twisted version of faith: "When religion is co-opted by power, it becomes a tool for oppression." This is the real danger here. Christian nationalism transforms a faith that should be about humility, love, and grace into a tool of coercion and division. When you combine that with political power, it quickly stops being about the teachings of Christ and starts being about control. And it doesn’t take long for the message to go from "God loves you" to "Believe this or else."

Pete Hegseth, with his military background and outspoken advocacy for what he calls an "American crusade," embodies many of these troubling tendencies. He’s talked about America’s mission as a holy war, not just metaphorically, but as a literal battle for the "righteous cause of human freedom.” But when your mission is a crusade, anyone not on board becomes an enemy. His language matters, especially when discussing someone potentially leading the Defense Department. The U.S. military is meant to serve a nation of diverse beliefs, and a leader must uphold that diversity, not advance their vision of religious righteousness.

It's important to note Hegseth's connections to Doug Wilson and Christchurch in Moscow, Idaho. Doug Wilson is one of the most outspoken advocates for Christian nationalism today. He preaches a version of Christianity that sees America as a battleground for cultural and spiritual dominance. Wilson’s Christchurch has been instrumental in promoting Christian nationalist ideology, and he’s openly supported the idea that explicitly Christian laws should govern America. This is a dangerous stance because it not only disregards the Constitution’s commitment to religious freedom but also distorts the core teachings of Christianity into a political agenda. Hegseth's association with Wilson and his church only deepens his concerns about mixing religious authority with political power.

Reverend Russell Moore, formerly of the Southern Baptist Convention, has also spoken out against this kind of ideological blending. He warned, "When the church becomes an instrument of political power, it loses its prophetic voice." The church is supposed to be a voice of conscience, not a tool of the state. When Christians like Hegseth align themselves with figures like Doug Wilson, they risk turning the faith into something it was never meant to be—a means of wielding power over others.

It’s not that Christians shouldn’t be in politics. Christian values—love your neighbor, serve the poor, protect the vulnerable—should guide us in our work, whatever that work is. But Christian nationalists twist these values. They believe that being American is to be a particular kind of Christian. It divides the world into "us" and "them," where "us" are those who adhere to a strict set of beliefs and "them" are everyone else. And once they’ve decided that God is only on your side, it's a very short leap to believing that any abusive action they do is justified. This leads to constant whitewashing of extremely hypocritical behavior – they’ll lie, cheat, and steal while saying it's justified.

That’s not how our faith works. Jesus said, "Blessed are the peacemakers." He didn't say, "Blessed are those who wield power in my name." We need leaders who remember that distinction. We need leaders who follow the example of Jesus, who lead with humility, welcome all, and never turn faith into a weapon. The danger of Christian nationalism is that it forgets this entirely. It turns faith into an ideology, an instrument of control. And in the hands of someone with power, like a Secretary of Defense, that ideology could do much more harm than good.

About the Author

Gregory Graf is the creator of Political Potatoes and a lifelong conservative Republican whose articles often expose the dangers of extremism that have taken root in Idaho. Graf is the CEO of Snake River Strategies, a communications and political consulting firm based in Eagle, Idaho. Graf and his family moved to Idaho Falls in 2013 from Utah and currently reside in Star.

Gregory Graf

Disclaimer
The following is intended to convey an opinion on newsworthy events of public concern regarding public figures and/or public officials in the exercise of their official duties. No implications or inferences—beyond those explicitly stated in the preceding— are intended to be conveyed or endorsed by the Author. Wherever available, hyperlinks have been provided to allow readers to directly access any underlying assertions of fact upon which this opinion is based.

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