Indiana’s HR 53 Is A Symptom Of A National Disease We Need To Eradicate

Okay, let’s talk about this bullshit. Again.

Another legislative session, another performative exercise in trying to plaster Jesus onto the Statehouse walls like cheap wallpaper. This time it’s Indiana House Resolution 53, penned by Rep. Joanna King and co-signed by a flock of colleagues (including, bafflingly, one Democrat), asking the state’s House to “humbly submit its ways to the Lord, Jesus Christ” and conduct business according to “biblical principles.” It trots out the same tired, historically bankrupt invocation of the Founding Fathers, supposedly grounding this nation solely on their interpretation of God’s will.

The immediate defense, of course, is that it’s “just a resolution.” It’s non-binding. It doesn’t legally establish Christianity as the state religion, so pipe down, you secular heathens and overly sensitive snowflakes. It’s merely, as one political scientist put it, legislators “expressing views and values,” no different than a campaign speech or a post on whatever social media hellscape is currently trending.

That defense is convenient, cowardly, and utterly misses the goddamn point. Arguing about whether HR 53 technically violates the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment or Indiana’s own constitutional ban on religious preference is like debating the thread count of the Emperor’s new clothes. The problem isn’t just the potential illegality; it’s the profound wrongness, the inherent arrogance, and the deeply un-American spirit pulsing behind gestures like this. It’s a symptom of a creeping Christian nationalism that seeks not to persuade hearts and minds, but to conquer the public square and declare everyone else a second-class citizen.

Let’s first dispense with the historical garbage these resolutions always lean on. The idea that the United States was founded explicitly as a Christian nation is a pernicious myth, deliberately cultivated to provide cover for contemporary power grabs. Yes, many founders were religious, operating within a broadly Christian cultural context. But the genius of the American experiment, the truly revolutionary part, was its explicit rejection of establishing a national religion. Men like Thomas Jefferson, author of the Declaration, and James Madison, the primary architect of the Constitution and Bill of Rights, were crystal clear. They fought against attempts to intertwine church and state, understanding the dangers from bloody European history. Jefferson spoke of a “wall of separation.” Madison, in his powerful “Memorial and Remonstrance Against Religious Assessments,” argued that compelling citizens to support any religion, even one they believed in, was a violation of conscience and detrimental to both government and faith itself. The Treaty of Tripoli, ratified unanimously by the Senate in 1797, bluntly stated the government of the United States “is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion.” To invoke the founders as support for submitting the government to Jesus Christ is either profound ignorance or intentional deceit.

But the fallacy runs deeper than historical malpractice. It strikes at the very soul of what America aspires to be, and frankly, it often spits in the face of the very faith it purports to uphold.

This nation’s motto, E Pluribus Unum – “Out of many, one” – is supposed to signify strength in diversity, including diversity of belief and non-belief. Resolutions like HR 53 fundamentally betray that promise. They send an unmistakable message to Jewish Hoosiers, Muslim Hoosiers, Hindu, Buddhist, Sikh, atheist, agnostic, and humanist Hoosiers – not to mention countless Christians who don’t subscribe to this specific political theology – that their government sees them as ‘other.’ That their beliefs, their values, their very identities are somehow less legitimate, less American, less worthy of official acknowledgment than those of the legislators demanding submission to their Lord. It’s an act of profound disrespect disguised as piety.

Furthermore, this relentless drive to seek state endorsement arguably corrupts the very faith it claims to champion. Did Jesus Christ wander Judea seeking Roman imperial resolutions endorsing his ministry? Or did he preach personal transformation, service to the poor, love for enemies, and caution against the corrupting influence of worldly power (“Render unto Caesar…”)? History is littered with examples of what happens when religious institutions get too cozy with state power. Think of the power struggles and corruption following Constantine’s conversion, or the centuries of brutal religious wars in Europe fueled by monarchs and prelates demanding conformity. Entangling faith with political power rarely elevates the state; it almost invariably debases the faith, turning spiritual conviction into a tool for social control and political advantage. True faith, one might argue, finds its strength in voluntary belief and authentic practice, not in government resolutions demanding fealty.

And the sheer arrogance! To stand in a public body, representing all constituents, and declare that your specific interpretation of your specific religion’s principles should guide the corporate actions of the state requires a level of hubris that stands in stark contrast to the humility often preached from the pulpits these legislators likely attend. It implies a certainty and a right to impose that is breathtakingly dismissive of anyone who walks a different path.

Don’t be fooled by the “non-binding” nature. These resolutions are trial balloons. They are normalization efforts. They soften the ground for tangible, harmful legislation that does have legal teeth – mandating the Ten Commandments in public schools (forcing Jewish students to confront a Christianized version of their own law), installing Christian chaplains to minister to diverse student bodies, and funding explicitly religious charter schools with public tax dollars, like the case currently before the Supreme Court regarding Oklahoma. HR 53 isn’t an isolated expression of values; it’s part of a coordinated strategy to dismantle the wall of separation brick by brick, starting with symbolic declarations and moving towards substantive entanglement.

So, if you find yourself nodding along with HR 53 or tempted to dismiss the concerns as overblown, perhaps it’s time for a moment of genuine reflection, maybe even guilt. Ask yourself: Is this the America you truly want? One where the government you fund tells your neighbors – people you work with, live beside, maybe even love – that their deepest beliefs aren’t quite right, aren’t fully welcome in the public sphere? How would you feel if the Indiana House resolved to submit its ways to Allah? Or Shiva? Or declared its adherence to Humanist principles above all others? Does applying the Golden Rule suddenly make the picture clearer?

Look deeper. Is this push for state submission really about honoring God, or is it about consolidating cultural power for one particular group? Is it about spreading love, or enforcing conformity? Does making someone feel like an outsider truly reflect the highest ideals of your faith, or the highest ideals of this nation?

Rejecting Christian nationalism isn’t an attack on Christianity; it’s a defense of both authentic faith (free from state coercion) and authentic American pluralism. It’s upholding the revolutionary promise that this nation belongs to everyone, regardless of their creed or lack thereof. Standing up for the separation of church and state isn’t hostility towards religion; it’s the necessary condition for genuine religious freedom to flourish for all. It’s time we stopped tolerating these symbolic encroachments and recognized them for the dangerous fallacies they are – corrosive to our democracy and a disservice to any faith worth its name.

Got it this time?