The Christian Church in America Is NOT Well: A Crisis of Conscience, A Cult of Power

The Christian church in America is not merely struggling; it is actively unraveling. For those of us who grew up within its embrace, who saw its potential for genuine spiritual guidance, the current landscape is profoundly troubling. My own father, a humble Southern Baptist pastor for over 42 years, a man whose quiet word carried immense weight across the state, was already expressing deep concerns about the church’s direction before his passing two decades ago. If he were to see the church now, I’m not sure he’d recognize it. I AM sure he wouldn’t like it. And the truth is, neither do I.

I’ve been agnostic for a long time, and the more I’ve observed the modern church, Christianity, and other faiths, the more it has become painfully clear: they are all worshiping mythologies. There is no real difference between today’s church and the temples of ancient Rome, both serving worldly ends under the guise of spiritual authority. The Christian church in America, particularly its evangelical wing, is poisoned by culture-war politics, consumed by cynical power grabs, and actively betraying its purported spiritual mission for temporal influence, revealing itself as an institution adrift in its own manufactured mythologies.

The Rot Within: Political Poisoning and the Perversion of “Revival”

The internal rot is undeniable. Younger evangelicals are expressing palpable despair and cynicism about the Church’s future. They struggle to relate to parents and mentors who are obsessed with “culture-war politics and internet conspiracy theories” instead of prayer or the Bible. Many are abandoning the “evangelical” label altogether, now that it’s inextricably confused with partisan political categories. As one pastor lamented, “Does no one see that the Church is in crisis?”

Indeed, it is. Congregations across the nation are universally “divided—or in an adrenal stance of tension about the imminence of division—over the turmoil of the political moment.” This fragmentation is not an accident; it is a direct consequence of a deeper institutional rot, accelerated by the collapse of mediating institutions and the toxic growth of a social-media ecosystem that thrives on division.

The very concept of “revival,” once a beacon of spiritual renewal, has been cynically perverted. It is now “riddled with cynicism” and associated with the “worst aspects of American evangelicalism.” What was meant to be a resurrection of faith has become a “programmatic structure” built by “entrepreneurial American evangelicalism”—a market-driven spectacle of massive stadium events and meticulously scheduled meetings. As The Guardian observed, “In the end, a market-driven religion gives rise to a market-driven approach to truth, and this development ultimately eviscerated conservative Christianity in the US and left it in the possession of hypocrites and hucksters.” This isn’t a spiritual awakening; it’s a performance for profit and political mobilization.

This perversion is deeply rooted in a dangerous nostalgia. “Revival” is confused with a mythical “golden age” of 1950s America, a past where even the pretense of addressing sexism and racism is now evaporating. Disturbingly, surveys show that white evangelicals are statistically the most susceptible to white-nationalist tropes like the “Great Replacement” theory. Their institutions brazenly caricature fundamental commitments to racial justice as “critical race theory,” exposing a deep-seated racial bias that contradicts any genuine claim to universal love. This “confusion of revival with nostalgia” is not just illusory; it’s a harmful delusion, akin to unaddressed trauma that will inevitably be “repeated.” As the evangelical preacher A. W. Tozer warned decades ago, a widespread revival of the Christianity he knew “might prove to be a moral tragedy from which we would not recover in a hundred years.” He understood that what is not repaired is repeated.

The Cruelty of Dogma: Institutional Hypocrisy and Dehumanization

Nowhere is the institutional hypocrisy and dehumanization more stark than in the church’s relentless crusade against LGBTQ+ rights. A decade after the Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage in Obergefell v. Hodges, the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) remains defiantly committed to overturning it. Their recent resolution, “On Restoring Moral Clarity Through God’s Design for Gender, Marriage, and the Family,” is not merely a theological stance; it is a political weapon. It defines marriage as an exclusively heterosexual covenant and flatly labels same-sex partnerships as “lying” and “destructive.” This is their twisted interpretation of “love for our neighbor”—a “moral duty” to impose a narrow, biblically literalist sexual ethic as the law of the land. The cruelty is laid bare by a professor’s chilling assertion that being born gay is akin to having “cancer of the soul.”

SBC leaders have long propagated fear-mongering narratives, predicting Christian persecution and church dismantling if they refuse to perform gay marriages. Yet, these dire predictions have not materialized. The “religious liberty” cry, far from protecting a vulnerable faith, serves as a potent rhetorical tool for legal discrimination, conveniently ignoring the actual freedom churches retain to refuse services while simultaneously demanding the right to exclude. The institutional priorities are perverse. These denominations are “glacially slow to recognize documented sexual-abuse cover-ups” but “lightning quick to expel congregations they find to be too affirming of women’s leadership.”

The concept of “the cross” is weaponized against gay Christians, framing their immense suffering (including increased suicidality) as a “godly sacrifice” leading to “human flourishing”—a cruel presupposition untouched by real-world despair. One’s own journey out of this system is a testament to its profound personal toll. What was framed as “one simple sacrifice”—lifelong celibacy—was, in reality, “the total subjugation of one’s ability to give and receive love, an all-encompassing demand of fealty to the authority of my Church.” One’s crisis of faith led to the agonizing realization that the choice was not between God and one’s sexuality, but between a rigid, oppressive church community and one’s own integrity. One finds deeper love for God after leaving.

A Glimmer of Dissent, or Just a Different Mythology?

Amidst this landscape of decline and moral compromise, a different voice emerges, though it begs the question of whether it represents true change or merely a different interpretation of the same underlying mythology. The United Church of Christ (UCC), for instance, at its recent General Synod, overwhelmingly passed a resolution denouncing U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) actions as “domestic terrorism.” They specifically criticized ICE’s tactics and called for divestment from for-profit private detention businesses. This reflects a principled, action-oriented stand for immigrants, rooted in “love for our neighbor” and a willingness to “speak prophetically” even when it risks their own safety and financial stability.

This principled dissent from the UCC highlights that not all parts of the Christian church are silent or complicit. It offers a counter-narrative to the dominant political capture. Yet, even in this commendable stance, the underlying framework remains rooted in a specific theological interpretation. While leading to more humane outcomes, it still operates within a faith-based paradigm, leaving the broader question of the church’s fundamental nature and its reliance on “mythologies” unaddressed. Is this a genuine shift in conscience, or simply a different, more palatable set of dogmas?

The Reckoning: Beyond Power, Towards Authenticity

The Christian church in America is deeply unwell. It is consumed by culture wars, obsessed with political power, and trapped in a dangerous nostalgia that distorts its core message. It has become a tool for “worldly ends,” leaving a gaping spiritual void that younger generations are increasingly unwilling to fill. This isn’t just about bad leadership; it’s about institutions clinging to self-serving mythologies, rather than confronting uncomfortable truths or embracing genuine spiritual transformation.

The path forward, if one exists, demands a radical departure. It requires abandoning the “frantic rhetoric” and “desperate lack of confidence” that desperately seeks to preserve a past “Bible Belt” that never truly existed as imagined. It demands a refocus on personal faith and integrity, rather than “mining the Bible for passages to win arguments” or mobilizing voters for political gain. As C. S. Lewis wisely noted, our nostalgia for “golden moments in the past” can be nourishing only if we see them as memories, not blueprints. “Leave the bulbs alone, and the new flowers will come up. Grub them up and hope, by fondling and sniffing, to get last year’s blooms, and you will get nothing.”

If the church denies the depths of this crisis and simply opts for public relations to preserve the coalitions and power structures of yesteryear, it will lose a generation longing to see whether its “Gospel is real or just another means to mobilize voters or market to customers.” It will find itself in one more contest for worldly power, which, as always, will put it on the side of the crucifiers rather than on the side of the Crucified.

The choice is stark: continue clinging to a self-serving past, or genuinely seek a “different Kingdom to call home.” This is not a strategy; it is a profound, desperate prayer for authenticity, for a rebirth of conscience, and for a faith that truly serves humanity, not power.