The Rise of Christian Nationalism: The Case of Wyoming, CASPER, Wyo. When Tim and I walked down the rope line

In Wyoming, CASPER, Wyo. Tim was running for Wyoming’s sole congressional seat and I saw it at a monster-truck rally as I was working the rope line. As Tim and I and our boys made our way down the line, shaking hands and passing out campaign material, a burly man wearing a God Bless America T-shirt and a cross around his neck said something like, “He’s got my vote if he keeps those [epithet] out of office,” using a racial slur. What followed was an uncomfortable master class in racism and xenophobia as the man decanted the reasons our country is going down the tubes. God bless America.

I have learned that the current of Christian nationalism has something to do with the ugliness I heard. It had been there all the time. The rope line rant was a mission statement for the disaffected, the overlooked, the frightened. It was an expression of support for someone who gave a name to an enemy; people who don’t look like us or share our beliefs. Immigrants are bringing their guns with them. They are bringing drugs. They are bringing crime. They are rapists. You are not protected inside your home. There is no religious freedom on the gallows. Let me know that you vote for me.

The messages were received. And in large part, it’s my faith community, white, rural and conservative, that got them there. I am a white conservative woman in rural America. I found my faith grew after I married and joined an evangelical church. My faith grew as did my political career, which Tim served in the Wyoming Legislature from 2008 to 2017). I’ve straddled both worlds, faith and politics, my entire adult life. There was usually little daylight between the two.

The rise of Christian nationalism is described in Paul D. Miller’s book as the belief that America is a Christian nation and that the government should keep it that way. Gone are the days where a lawmaker might be circumspect about using his or her faith as a vehicle to garner votes. It’s been a drastic — and destructive — departure from the boring, substantive lawmaking to which I was accustomed. Christian nationalists have hijacked both my Republican Party and my faith community by blurring the lines between church and government and in the process rebranding our state’s identity.