So, the IRS said it's okay...

Churches can now endorse political candidates without risking their tax-exempt status. Some pastors are celebrating. Some public figures are lamenting.

But let’s ask a bigger question: Just because we can, should we?

This isn’t just a policy shift. It’s a test of allegiance. Because the moment we use the pulpit to promote a candidate, we’ve abandoned it as the place where Christ alone is exalted. And maybe that's the problem, we don't see the pulpit as a place connecting Heaven and Earth anymore. That thought is for another time.

For now, for all that is being shared in social spheres, this isn't a win for the Church. It’s a warning.

How Did We Get Here? A Brief History of the Johnson Amendment

In 1954, Senator Lyndon B. Johnson added an amendment to the U.S. tax code prohibiting nonprofit organizations, including churches, from endorsing or opposing political candidates. It wasn’t about silencing churches; it was retaliation against two nonprofits challenging his Senate seat.

The principle was simple: If you benefit from tax-exempt status as a public good, don’t use your platform to campaign.

Imperfect as it was, the Johnson Amendment upheld an important boundary: The pulpit was never meant to become a political podium.

The True Intent of Church–State Separation

The phrase “separation of church and state” doesn’t appear in the Constitution, but the concept is clear.  The Founders didn’t want to remove faith from public life; they wanted to protect it. They wanted to prevent the state from co-opting religion for power.

While the phrase “separation of church and state” originally served to protect the Church from government interference, its modern usage often reflects something very different: a cultural discomfort with the Church influencing government at all.

What began as a shield to safeguard religious freedom has, in many circles, become a sword used to silence the Church’s moral voice. The Founders, especially figures like Thomas Jefferson and Roger Williams (more on him in a moment), feared a government that could control religion, not a Church that spoke prophetically into public life. But over time, as pluralism, secularism, and religious scandals grew, cultural confidence in the Church as a moral compass weakened.

Today, the phrase is often invoked not to ensure freedom of religion, but to demand freedom from religion, particularly in politics and policymaking. This reflects a deeper cultural shift: a mistrust of faith’s role in public life, and a fear of religion becoming oppressive. But the Church was never meant to dominate government, it was meant to influence it. Like salt preserving what would otherwise decay, the Church’s voice is needed, not as a campaign arm, but as a conscience. Our task is not to control culture, but to convict it with truth, justice, and the radical love of Christ.

One of the earliest voices to champion this was Roger Williams, a Baptist pastor and founder of Rhode Island. He saw the Church as a "garden" and the state as a "wilderness." If the wilderness overgrew the garden, he warned, it would choke out the Gospel.

The Church has always spoken into public life, but not through partisan alignment, rather through prophetic courage.

Think of the Black Church during the Jim Crow South. Think of pastors who stood in pulpits and defied racism, injustice, and dehumanization; not to endorse candidates, but to proclaim truth. Think of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who didn’t tell people how to vote. He told them to rise.

They didn’t campaign. They confronted. They didn’t align with political parties. They challenged them all.

Because their mission wasn’t about winning elections. It was about calling a nation to repentance, justice, and dignity in the name of Jesus.

What Are We Actually Endorsing?

When a pastor stands behind a pulpit and says, “Vote for this person,” it’s not just a political act, but a theological one.

It implies:

• This person can deliver, save or redeem us.

• This platform is our hope.

• This party is aligned with God’s will.

  
  

But that’s not the Gospel. That’s idolatry dressed in campaign colors. Every time a church endorses a candidate, it risks saying: “Jesus might save your soul, but this person will save your country.”

And that, friends, is theological malpractice.

It trades the eternal for the temporary.

It swaps resurrection for reelection.

It confuses the Lion of Judah with the symbols of men.

Staying On Course

Imagine the same space being used not to endorse, but to confront:

• To call out injustice—no matter the party.

• To demand integrity—without pledging allegiance.

• To speak peace into a polarized world.

• To remind the Church that Caesar doesn’t get our loyalty—Jesus does.

  
  

Endorsing a candidate tells people what kind of nation we want. Preaching the Gospel tells people what kind of Kingdom is coming.

Only one of those has the real power to reclaim, redeem, renew, and restore.

Yes, the Gospel has political implications—it speaks to justice, poverty, dignity, and life. But it refuses to be co-opted by platforms that only tell part of the truth.

• When pulpits called for abolition, it was Gospel.

• When pastors marched for civil rights, it was Gospel.

• When churches stood for the dignity of refugees, the unborn, and the poor, it was Gospel.

  
  

But when churches endorse candidates, they risk trading prophetic power for political access. They stop preaching the cross and start parroting Caesar.