In a recent Interfaith Fellows meeting, we discussed in pairs what had compelled us toward our present spiritual outlook and practice (or lack thereof). What guided me towards deepening my relationship with God and establishing a more formal relationship with faith was my desire for comfort during a challenging moment in my personal life. My conversation partner responded by elaborating on his different approach to faith. While, unlike myself, he had grown up in a religious community, he felt that his relationship with spirituality was ultimately challenged due to his desire for logic in his understanding of, and relationship with, a higher power. In this regard, we held two different frameworks for developing relationships with faith: being compelled to it through emotional fulfillment and logical explanations for the existence of God. However, in the age of rising white Christian nationalism (see: Trump’s implementation of the White House Faith Office and a task force to eliminate “anti-Christian bias”), I believe it’s becoming increasingly clear that a revitalization of faith through a third lens, that of community building and service, is necessary to combat the right’s co-opting of religious language and tropes for the advancement of radical policy goals.
We must work to disassociate far-right movements with the core tenets of faiths such as Christianity to increase the visibility of a faith experience that does not demand intolerance and societal regression.
Concurrent to the rise of white Christian nationalism is a rise in general religiosity: studies have demonstrated an increase in religious adherence amongst Gen Z men in the United States. Baylor psychology professor Dr. Sarah Schnitker noted in a 2024 analysis for the New York Times that young men score “higher in attachment to basic Christian beliefs, in church attendance and in frequency of Bible reading” than their female peers. Interestingly, in the same article, UC Irvine minister Derek Rishmawy claims that for some of the young men he counsels, Christianity is perceived as “one institution that isn’t initially as formally skeptical of [men] as a class,” particularly within a campus setting. This sentiment, in the wider context of rising far-right beliefs that emphasize the importance of adhering to traditional gender roles and ideals of masculinity, makes it clear to me that Christianity has been utilized in some circles by Gen Z men to uphold the status quo and collectively resist social progress. By warding off confrontation from more progressive ideas and conversations about gender, these groups of men seemingly perceive that they are keeping their role in society solid and unchanged. Importantly though, I do not want to wholly conflate increased desires for religiosity with an inherent adoption of far-right beliefs. In contrast, we must work to disassociate far-right movements with the core tenets of faiths such as Christianity to increase the visibility of a faith experience that does not demand intolerance and societal regression.
The community building that is so intrinsic to many Americans’ experiences with organized religion can provide the foundation for a faith experience that is grounded in social justice and prioritizes effecting change.
It also cannot be ignored that a key part of the appeal of organized religion across generations is its capacity for community building. Members of Gen Z, both men and women, are repeatedly noted as facing higher rates of loneliness and social isolation than the generations that came before them. Components of organized religion, such as weekly services and youth nights, provide accessible, consistent opportunities for socialization for many Gen Z individuals across a variety of spiritual paths. A key focal point of Donald Trump’s 2024 campaign was stoking divisions within the American public, harnessing media to stress differences in public opinion on LGBTQ rights, immigration policy, and abortion, among others. Nonetheless, organized religion can provide opportunities for grassroots community and relationship building. This can make way for productive, non-othering dialogue to take place on pressing issues amongst people with differing viewpoints. Perhaps most importantly, the community building that is so intrinsic to many Americans’ experiences with organized religion can provide the foundation for a faith experience that is grounded in social justice and prioritizes effecting change.
From the commencement of Trump’s second term, it has become clear that Christianity in Trump’s eyes does not rest on the principles of welcoming the stranger, being compassionate towards the marginalized, and decrying greed. Following the National Prayer Service in January at Washington National Cathedral, where Rev. Mariann Budde pleaded with Trump to have mercy on immigrants and LGBTQ children, Trump posted on Truth Social calling Budde’s service “nasty”, “very boring”, and “uninspiring”. However discouraged by the current political climate, faith leaders such as Budde have shown that a widespread faith practice grounded in social justice is not only possible but necessary. In an age of mass deportations, arresting students for protesting genocide, and eliminating funding for humanitarian aid and public education, if utilized correctly faith-based social justice can provide the common ethos and might necessary to effectively counteract the mutilation of the American religious landscape today.
If utilized correctly faith-based social justice can provide the common ethos and might necessary to effectively counteract the mutilation of the American religious landscape today.
In order to not let Trump’s administration commandeer what it means to have faith, we must look to those who came before us to build a movement of faith-based resistance to Trump’s America. We must look to the Social Gospel, Dorothy Day’s Catholic Worker Movement, and scholars such as amina wadud and Abraham Joshua Heschel to lay the groundwork for faith-based movements that bring people together to effect true change and protect those most vulnerable among us. We must utilize the existing increased desire for religious adherence and community to transform our present religio-political landscape and prioritize expressions of faith that are bound by values of community service. Such efforts could include the fundraising of legal fees for immigrants apprehended by ICE, mutual aid funds for federal employees affected by layoffs, and the building of free accessible public school infrastructure for disabled students affected by Department of Education cuts. As is proclaimed in chapter 49, verse 13 of the Quran, we as humankind were put on this Earth to know and love one another. Religious practice has been shown throughout history to be a powerful force for progressive societal change in norms, relationships, and policies. We must now use it.
Sophia Ibrahim ‘27 studies in the College of Arts & Sciences. She can be reached at i.sophia@wustl.edu.