Evangelicals and the cost of silence in America | The Seattle Times

For more than 60 years, I have been an evangelical Christian. I have never seen our moral credibility thinner — or our silence more consequential — than it is now.

I am a retired evangelical pastor who, with my wife, founded Washington Cathedral in Redmond in 1984. (Pastor Mark Nsimbi now leads the church, and the views expressed here are mine alone.)

For most of my pastoral life, I believed it was not my role to tell people how to vote. Full disclosure: I have not voted for President Donald Trump, though I rarely said so publicly. I was formed in a time when political disagreement did not automatically imply moral condemnation. Voting against a candidate did not mean withdrawing support for that person as president. Our democratic republic endured because disagreement was governed by respect, conversation and civic restraint.

I also want to say this plainly: I understand why many of my MAGA friends felt unheard and dismissed. They were reacting to real problems — economic dislocation, cultural condescension and political blind spots on the left — that deserved serious attention. Many sensed a system tilted toward concentrated wealth at the expense of middle-class stability. Supporting a billionaire was often less an endorsement of wealth than a rejection of a political order they felt no longer listened. Those frustrations were real, and ignoring them only deepened political resentment.

At the same time, it is only through voices within that movement — friends, pastors and leaders — speaking honestly and courageously that President Trump’s leadership can be drawn back toward truth, restraint and democratic responsibility. No lasting correction comes from mockery or exclusion. It comes when those near power insist on better.

In the 2024 election, roughly eight in 10 white evangelical Protestants supported President Trump, with subsequent surveys showing continued approval. These numbers matter — not as partisan scorekeeping, but because sustained political loyalty carries moral responsibility. When a movement offers overwhelming support to a leader, it cannot then claim neutrality when that leader’s conduct undermines truth, dignity or democratic norms. Moral responsibility does not disappear at the ballot box; it deepens when loyalty becomes habitual and correction is no longer welcome.

Truthfulness is where the line must be drawn. I say that with humility. I have exaggerated myself — claiming there are “a million fish” in a spot when the truth is closer to 43. I have misspoken at important moments too, once beginning a wedding by welcoming everyone as the “dirty beloved” instead of the “dearly beloved.”

That is human error. What corrodes trust is refusing correction — denying plain facts or doubling down when the record is clear. Over time, President Trump has crossed that line repeatedly. This is not about a single false statement, but a pattern: twisting the truth, attacking former allies, indulging vanity and vulgarity, and refusing to acknowledge error even when facts are settled.

Character also shows in how power is exercised toward the vulnerable. President Trump’s civil convictions involving women, the long list of allegations against him and his association with Jeffrey Epstein raise serious moral questions. These concerns go to the heart of whether power is restrained by conscience — or excused by loyalty.

Immigration raises a similar test. A nation has the right to secure its borders. But border security and human dignity are not opposing values. Policies that treat families and children as bargaining chips, or normalize cruelty as deterrence, do lasting damage; not only to those who suffer them, but to the moral character of the nation that enacts them.

Foreign policy reveals another pattern. President Trump has undermined democratic alliances while expressing admiration for authoritarian strongmen and deference toward Russian President Vladimir Putin. Most concerning is his fascination with monarchy and “presidents for life,” paired with actions: refusing to accept the results of the 2020 election and stoking the anger that culminated in the Jan. 6 U.S. Capitol riot. A democratic republic cannot endure if elections are treated as valid only when one side wins.

This is where evangelical responsibility becomes unavoidable. Franklin Graham has publicly endorsed President Trump. That endorsement is especially sobering given that his father, the Rev. Billy Graham, later said endorsing President Richard Nixon was the greatest regret of his public life. History is trying to teach us something here. Many younger believers are listening, and many are leaving evangelicalism, not because faith has failed them, but because they no longer recognize it in our silence or our loyalty.

This moment does not require evangelicals to agree politically. It asks for honesty, humility and the courage to speak when silence becomes complicity. When truth is traded for loyalty, democracy weakens, cruelty hardens and the damage does not stop with politics; it shapes the nation our children will inherit.