With a lifelong engagement in Adventist faith and tradition, I could not resist sharing this insightful analysis of recent developments by my friend and colleague Michael Peabody. Things are moving fast in today’s world.
I encourage you to become a subscriber to Peabody’s blog at ReligiousLiberty.tv. If you would like to write him, his mailing address is at the bottom of this essay.
The President Who Told the Pope to Shut Up (And the King Who Tried It 500 Years Ago)
Henry VIII wanted a church that would bless his decisions. Trump appears to want the same arrangement, without the bureaucratic paperwork. Pope Leo XIV’s response was unambiguous: “I have no fear of the Trump administration.”  Donald Trump issued a 334-word broadside on Truth Social attacking Pope Leo XIV as “WEAK on Crime, and terrible for Foreign Policy,” claimed credit for the pope’s election, and posted an AI-generated image depicting himself as Jesus Christ.  That last part he eventually deleted, but without apology.
JD Vance, a Catholic convert, was dispatched to Fox News to manage the fallout. His answer was remarkable for its candor: “In some cases it would be best for the Vatican to stick to matters of morality… and let the president of the United States stick to dictating American public policy.”  What Vance was really doing was drawing a jurisdictional line between the spiritual and the temporal, with Washington on top. It is a very old argument, and it has a very old precedent. Henry VIII made precisely this case in 1534 when Parliament passed the Act of Supremacy, declaring the English Crown the “Supreme Head of the Church of England.” Henry had a matrimonial dispute Rome would not accommodate, and his solution was institutional: if the pope won’t cooperate, rewrite the chain of command.
The parallels are not perfect, but they are instructive. Henry did not destroy Christian faith in England; he nationalized it. He kept the liturgy, the bishops, the vestments. What he eliminated was the one thing he could not control: an external spiritual authority with the standing to say no. Trump has no Act of Supremacy, and the Catholic Church is not subject to American statute. But the impulse is identical. The pope drew Trump’s anger by speaking about the war in the Middle East and the treatment of immigrants. Vance’s argument that these fall outside the Vatican’s proper domain collapses on inspection: by any reasonable definition, they are precisely matters of morality. 
This is where Trump’s instincts reveal a fundamental misreading of what the separation of church and state was designed to do. The Founders of the United States had watched European history closely enough to know that state entanglement with religion produced persecution, coercion, and the weaponization of faith for political ends. The wall Jefferson described in his 1802 letter to the Danbury Baptists was erected precisely so that no president could tell a religious body what subjects were and were not permissible topics for moral instruction. Trump has inverted the principle entirely, treating the Vatican’s prophetic voice as an intrusion into his jurisdiction rather than recognizing that his jurisdiction ends where conscience begins.
To be precise: the United States government cannot silence the pope, and it cannot silence any other religious leader. The First Amendment remains intact, and Leo XIV is an independent sovereign head of state beyond any American legal reach. But the attempt to delegitimize religious moral authority, to draw a government-issued map of what faith may and may not address, is its own kind of pressure. Normalized over time, it shapes what religious leaders feel free to say, what congregations expect to hear, and what churches are willing to risk. The danger is not a single executive order. It is the gradual redefinition of religious liberty from a right that protects prophetic speech into a privilege that requires political permission.
Many Protestant evangelicals have cheered this confrontation from the sidelines, pleased to see a pope put in his place by a president they regard as their champion. That comfort is badly misplaced. The principle Vance articulated does not stop at the Tiber. If the state claims authority to define which religious pronouncements count as legitimate “matters of morality” and which constitute improper interference in public policy, every church is subject to that same standard. The Southern Baptist pastor who preaches on immigration, the Pentecostal bishop who speaks to criminal justice, the evangelical college that declines to comply with federal mandates on grounds of conscience: all of them are vulnerable to the same logic Vance just supplied to Washington.
Henry VIII’s Protestant heirs learned this slowly and painfully. The Church of England became a state instrument not because England abandoned Christianity, but because it handed the Crown a veto over Christian witness. Nonconformists, Baptists, and Quakers spent the next two centuries paying the price for that arrangement in fines, imprisonment, and exile. Five centuries ago, Thomas More went to the scaffold rather than sign a loyalty oath to a king who had decided he outranked the pope. The question now is a quieter one, but not entirely different: who holds the final word on what belongs to Caesar, and what does not? Protestants who think that question only concerns Catholics have not read enough history.
This article presented with appreciation to Michael Peabody, who provides amazing insight into current events.
Another essay from Michael Peabody, balanced the political perspective in his last essay. I find his work very relevant and balanced. I share for the benefit of readers who value my opinion.
The Art of the Ultimatum: Trump, Iran, and the Importance of Being Presidential ReligiousLiberty.TV
Apr 7
This essay does not exist to defend what is happening in Iran. The human cost is staggering, the legal questions are serious, and anyone who writes about strategy from the safety of a desk owes at least that admission before proceeding. What follows is an attempt to understand the strategic logic at work and to acknowledge honestly that no one yet knows whether it will succeed.
With that said: the foreign policy establishment’s instinct to frame Trump’s approach as chaos and nothing more reflects a failure of historical imagination. Henry Kissinger, who understood power more rigorously than perhaps any American statesman of the twentieth century, helped develop what became known as the madman theory of diplomacy. The strategy involved a leader pushing so many chips into the pot that the other side would think he might be crazy and might really go much further.  The premise was that a rational actor making threats is less credible than one who seems ungoverned by ordinary self-interest. The appearance of irrationality makes otherwise non-credible threats seem credible, since threats by a rational leader to escalate a dispute may seem suicidal and thus easily dismissible by adversaries.  This was not fringe theorizing. It was Kissinger’s Harvard seminar. It shaped American foreign policy during some of its most consequential decades.
Whether Trump is consciously running this playbook or arriving at similar territory by instinct is a question worth leaving open. The outcome, so far, bears some resemblance to the theory in action. Since protests subsided in early 2026, Trump has used American military deployments to add leverage to his efforts to compel the beleaguered Iranian regime to agree to concessions ending the broad range of strategic threats it poses.  Each deployment was a bargaining chip. Each deadline extended and then hardened was another. By late March, Trump was telling reporters that Iran had agreed to never pursue a nuclear weapon and to forgo uranium enrichment, demands that had gone unmet for decades of quieter diplomacy.  Compare this with what the Obama administration achieved through the approach it considered more measured and responsible. Barack Obama and Secretary of State John Kerry negotiated the 2015 JCPOA across multiple countries and years, with Kerry and his Iranian counterpart meeting on eighteen different dates, sometimes more than once per day, across eleven different cities.  The deal produced real constraints. It also produced, by its critics’ accounting, something more troubling: more than $115 billion in sanctions relief to the Iranian regime, cash the mullahs used to develop their nuclear program, fund their military, and finance their international terrorist network.  The agreement contained sunset clauses, meaning its restrictions were always temporary. Critics argued that once the JCPOA expired, Iran would be able to sprint to develop a nuclear weapon, meaning the agreement was not a lasting solution but simply kicked the can down the road.  Iran was, by early 2024, assessed to have enough highly enriched uranium for multiple weapons.
Trump’s approach has been built on a different premise: that Iran responds to existential pressure and nothing else. The evidence from the current moment supports this at least partially. By late March 2026, Iran’s leadership was described as paralyzed, with severely disrupted decision-making and internal power struggles fed by damaged communications infrastructure.  That is not the posture of a regime negotiating from a position of strength. It is the posture of an institution fighting for survival.
But here is where the war game assumptions most Western analysts use break down entirely, and where the comparison to past crises becomes inadequate. The regime in Tehran has never been primarily a geopolitical actor operating within a cost-benefit framework that resembles anything the State Department models. The Iranian regime considers their nation chosen by Allah to prepare the world for the coming of their messiah, the Twelfth Imam, the Mahdi, who will establish justice in the world. They believe that catastrophic world chaos and the defeat of their enemies, especially Israel, are prerequisites for this event.  Some factions within Iran’s clerical leadership believe the Mahdi’s return will be hastened by global destruction and war, meaning that if Iran’s leaders believe nuclear war would hasten the return of this prophesied figure, they would actually be motivated to start such a war regardless of the consequences.  This is a variable that no war game adequately accounts for, because no war game is designed to model actors who interpret national annihilation as a possible precondition for divine fulfillment. Western policymakers often rely on a rationalist model of deterrence, in which mutual vulnerability ensures restraint, but that model presumes survival is the highest good. In regimes where martyrdom and apocalyptic expectation are interwoven with state ideology, that assumption becomes fragile.  Iran has not been afraid to use suicidal techniques before. The Iran-Iraq war consumed a generation of Iranian youth sent to the front in human waves, with children given plastic keys said to unlock the gates of paradise. As the Iran-Iraq war demonstrated, if this struggle results in mass martyrdom, this is thought only to hasten the coming of the Imam Mahdi. 
This theological framework is also why the human shield strategy carries a logic beyond simple military calculation. Iranian officials called on all young people, athletes, artists, students, and university students and their professors to form human chains around power plants as Trump’s deadline for reopening the Strait of Hormuz drew closer.  The regime understands, with precision, that the United States values Iranian civilian lives more than the Iranian government does. That asymmetry is a weapon.
To be presidential in this environment cannot mean performing the grammar of presidential behavior for audiences who will never be satisfied. It means perceiving clearly what kind of adversary one is actually facing, what its internal logic is, and what it will and will not respond to. The JCPOA’s most fundamental problem was that it assumed a negotiating partner operating within a recognizable framework of national interest. The assumption may have been wrong from the start.
Whether Trump’s approach will ultimately succeed remains genuinely unknown. If Iran doesn’t budge, the worst outcome for Washington would be a symbolic or limited strike, a disadvantageous deal dressed as victory, something that would torpedo American credibility and embolden the regime like never before.  And the outcome of that collision has not yet been written.
I do not usually expound on political matters knowing that anything I say on the subject will polarize my audience and distract from the biblical/theological focus of the blog site. But the following essay rings too true biblically to ignore. And for those who like Trump Michael Peabody shortly after offered a counter-balancing perspective. Good stuff. Will share both here.
Jon
“Glory Be to God”: Trump’s Religious Framing of the Iran War and What It Reveals Inside a 24-hour window that also included an excluded Catholic service at the Pentagon. ReligiousLiberty.TV
Donald Trump posted three words on Truth Social this morning that deserve more attention than they are likely to receive: “Glory be to God.” The full post, published Saturday, reads: “Remember when I gave Iran ten days to MAKE A DEAL or OPEN UP THE HORMUZ STRAIT. Time is running out – 48 hours before all Hell will reign down on them. Glory be to GOD!” CBS News Trump issued this ultimatum the day before Easter Sunday. Bloomberg An American president, on Holy Saturday, threatening what could be a catastrophic new military escalation, closed his message with a doxology. The glory of God invoked in the same breath as hell raining down on tens of millions of people.
Iran’s central military command rejected the threat within hours. Gen. Ali Abdollahi Aliabadi called it “a helpless, nervous, unbalanced and stupid action” and, echoing Trump’s own language, warned that “the simple meaning of this message is that the gates of hell will open for you.” CBS News Two governments, each reaching for the language of divine wrath on the holiest weekend of the Christian calendar. This is not incidental. It is a pattern. And for those of us who track what happens when state power fuses with sacred language, it is accelerating faster than most Americans realize.
The Rhetoric Stacks Up We have been tracking this pattern at ReligiousLiberty.tv since before the bombs started falling. When the U.S. and Israel launched Operation Epic Fury on February 28, the religious framing was already baked in. During a press briefing on the Iran war, Defense Secretary Hegseth told Americans they should take a knee and pray for victory “in the name of Jesus Christ,” and elaborated separately: “Our capabilities are better. Our will is better. Our troops are better. The providence of our almighty God is there protecting those troops, and we’re committed to this mission.” Prism News
Then came the March 26 prayer service at the Pentagon. Hegseth recited what he described as the “premission reading” given by a chaplain to troops involved in the capture of Venezuela’s then-president, reading from the Book of Psalms: “I pursued my enemies and overtook them. I did not turn back til they were consumed. I thrust them through so that they were not able to rise. They fell under my feet.” Military Times He continued: “Give them wisdom in every decision, endurance for the trial ahead, unbreakable unity, and overwhelming violence of action against those who deserve no mercy. Preserve their lives, sharpen their resolve, and let justice be executed swiftly and without remorse that evil may be driven back and wicked souls delivered to the eternal damnation prepared for them.” He closed “in the mighty and powerful name of Jesus Christ, King over all kings.” The Nation This was not a private prayer. It was delivered at a government-organized worship service inside the Pentagon, during an active war, to officials in the chain of command of the world’s most powerful military.
The language has filtered downward. According to a complaint from a noncommissioned officer, U.S. forces were told that President Trump had been “anointed by Jesus” to spark events leading to Armageddon. The Guardian cited 200 further complaints received by the Military Religious Freedom Foundation that commanders were invoking Christian “end times” rhetoric in relation to the conflict. One said the operation had been framed as “God’s divine plan,” with references to the book of Revelation and the imminent return of Christ. Premier Christianity NPR’s Quil Lawrence also noted that Hegseth has used the phrase “no quarter” in connection with the conflict. That phrase has a precise legal meaning: it is illegal not to give quarter, not to take prisoners. That is a war crime. NPR When that phrase travels inside explicitly Christian prayer, the implications are not theological. They are operational.
The Pentagon Chapel and the Catholic Question Into this already volatile climate came the Good Friday episode, which unfolded on the same day as Trump’s Saturday ultimatum. Hegseth’s Pentagon held a Protestant-only Good Friday service at its in-house chapel, with no Catholic Mass scheduled. The setup drew frustration from at least one Pentagon employee after an internal email made the arrangement explicit: “Just a friendly reminder: There will be a Protestant Service (No Catholic Mass) for Good Friday today at the Pentagon Chapel.” Mediaite
There is a legitimate liturgical footnote. Catholics do not celebrate traditional Mass on Good Friday. The Church observes instead a Liturgy of the Lord’s Passion. A Defense Department official later explained that the chaplain office’s priest was not in town, and that no Catholic Good Friday service had been arranged as a result. Yahoo! Some of the initial criticism overstated the canonical significance. But the liturgical detail does not resolve the larger concern. In February, Hegseth invited Pastor Doug Wilson to lead prayer at the Pentagon. Wilson has advocated for a vision of Christian governance that would ban public Catholic rituals, including Masses, Marian processions, and Corpus Christi devotions. Roughly a quarter of the U.S. military identifies as Catholic. Mediaite
The Washington Post reported that Hegseth has been hosting monthly evangelical Christian prayer services in the building. Last May, he brought Brooks Potteiger, his Tennessee pastor and spiritual advisor, to lead one such gathering, during which Potteiger described President Donald Trump as a divinely appointed leader. Hegseth said at the time he wanted to make the monthly services a permanent tradition. Prism News Hegseth also announced he was reducing the number of faith codes used in the military from 200 to 31, saying the move addressed “political correctness and secular humanism” in the Chaplain Corps. The Daily Beast A Pentagon employee who has worked there since 1980 said this was the first time in their tenure that a Catholic Good Friday observance had not been offered. Thelettersfromleo The cumulative picture is not one of religious liberty. It is one of religious preference institutionalized at the top of the chain of command, during a war.
The Archbishop Speaks The most significant development of this week may have come from an unexpected corner. Archbishop Timothy Broglio, head of the Archdiocese for the Military Services and the senior Catholic leader overseeing spiritual care for all U.S. military personnel, told CBS that Hegseth’s invocation of Jesus Christ to justify the conflict is “problematic,” and advised Catholic service members to “do as little harm as you can, and to try and preserve innocent lives.” Inquisitr Broglio is not a progressive critic. He is a conservative archbishop. As recently as January 28 of this year, he praised Hegseth at the Catholic Information Center in Washington, saying Hegseth “definitely wants to return the chaplaincy to responsibility for religious services, religious instruction, and advising the commanders.” That earlier alignment makes his public break all the more significant as a signal that the rhetorical line between faith-informed leadership and sectarian war justification has, in his judgment, been crossed. Prism News
Pope Leo XIV condemned war during a Palm Sunday Mass, saying Jesus “rejects war, whom no one can use to justify war” and “does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war, but rejects them.” The Nation The pope was not speaking abstractly. He was responding to a specific, named situation.
A Historical Pattern, With a Critical Difference Presidents have long reached for religious language in wartime. Lincoln invoked the will of God throughout the Civil War while carefully refusing to claim God was on the Union’s side alone. His Second Inaugural is a model of theological humility under pressure. FDR led the nation in prayer on D-Day, asking God to protect the troops and grant them endurance. George W. Bush used the word “crusade” after September 11 before advisors persuaded him the word was diplomatically catastrophic. Even Obama invoked the protection of the Almighty for fallen troops and their families. None of that is equivalent to what is happening now. Historian Ronit Stahl, a scholar of the military chaplaincy, said it is “rarely” the case that “an American military leader justified killing by declaring that God has sanctioned violence as an ultimate, higher good,” and that it is “highly unusual for high-ranking officers or civilian military leaders to relish killing and violence in God’s name as a religious duty.” The New Republic What American leaders have historically done is invoke God as a source of protection and moral accountability. What Hegseth is doing is different: he is invoking God as the sanctioning authority for maximum lethal force, while simultaneously reshaping the institutional religion of the military to reflect one narrow branch of evangelical Protestantism, and while troops on the ground are reportedly being told their deployment is part of a biblical plan for the end of the world.
The Armageddon Question We have to say plainly what some of our readers are already thinking, because it needs to be said with precision rather than left to fever-swamp speculation. There are people inside this administration, and within the network of evangelical advisors surrounding it, who believe the current conflict in the Middle East may be connected to biblical end-times prophecy. Figures in this network have publicly described Middle East wars as signs of the “last days,” argued that geopolitical upheaval fulfills biblical prophecy, and framed American military action in explicitly dispensationalist terms. The Intercept Paula White-Cain, head of the White House Faith Office, operates within a theological tradition that reads current events through what is called dispensationalist eschatology: a system that divides history into eras, assigns a special prophetic role to the modern state of Israel, and anticipates a final global conflict before the return of Christ.
Certain evangelical voices have explicitly linked the Iran conflict to passages in Ezekiel 38-39, which describe a coalition including “Persia” (modern Iran) rising against Israel in the last days. One such commentator wrote: “I believe the Bible clearly foretold that Israel would be scattered and regathered, fulfilled on May 14, 1948, and that’s when the prophetic time clock began to tick.” Harvest
We want to be careful here, and precise. The vast majority of people who hold these theological views are sincere Christians interpreting ancient texts as best they can. Belief in the second coming of Christ is not fringe. It is held by hundreds of millions of people across the globe, including many of our own readers. The Adventist tradition has its own rich, carefully developed theology of last-day events, and we will address that directly below. The problem is not that people in government believe in the end times. The problem is when those beliefs shape the prosecution of an actual war, in real time, in ways that close off diplomatic options, license extraordinary violence, and tell soldiers that their deaths are part of God’s cosmic plan. U.S. forces were reportedly told that President Trump was “anointed by Jesus” to “light the signal fire in Iran to cause Armageddon.” Premier Christianity That is not private theology. That is command-level religious instruction during an active combat deployment. And it has no place in a constitutional republic whose military swears an oath to a secular document, not a denominational creed.
When a government begins believing its own war is divinely ordained and prophetically necessary, it loses the flexibility that peace requires. You cannot negotiate your way out of Armageddon. You cannot accept a ceasefire if the bombs are God’s plan. This is precisely why the fusion of prophetic end-times theology with military command authority is among the most dangerous things that can happen in a nuclear-armed state.
The Adventist Perspective: A History That Has Been Waiting for This Moment Seventh-day Adventists have been watching what is happening in Washington with a particular quality of attention. For the broader public, the events of the past several weeks are alarming but novel. For Adventists, they are alarming and deeply familiar. The Adventist Church was born, in large part, out of precisely this concern. The church emerged from the Millerite movement following the Great Disappointment of 1844, and its founders almost immediately turned their attention to the question of church and state. They saw in Revelation 13 a prophetic outline of how religious coercion would return to the earth in the last days: a great power, initially characterized by religious liberty and republican government, would eventually unite church and state, use civil authority to enforce religious observance, and persecute those who refused to comply. They identified that power as the United States of America.
This was not a peripheral concern. It was central to Adventist identity. As early as 1851, the denomination began to preach that the second great prophetic symbol of Revelation 13 represented the United States. By the late 1880s, when Sunday law legislation was moving through Congress, Adventists collected 250,000 signatures against it, organized what became the International Religious Liberty Association, and made religious freedom for all people, not just for themselves, a defining institutional commitment. Ellen G. White Writings Ellen G. White, the church’s most influential early writer, articulated the theological stakes with precision. She wrote: “The union of the church with the state, be the degree never so slight, while it may appear to bring the world nearer to the church, does in reality but bring the church nearer to the world.” General Conference of Seventh-day Adventists Her concern was not merely institutional. It was eschatological. She believed that when the United States, the nation she saw as history’s great experiment in religious freedom, began to use government power to enforce religious observance, it would signal the approach of the final crisis of earth’s history. White’s prophetic concern was not that the U.S. would become too secular, but that it would lose its Protestant commitment to religious liberty through church-state union and coercive religious laws. Her ideal America was not a state enforcing Christian belief, but a nation protecting freedom of conscience for all. Spectrum Magazine
The Adventist Church’s official position has consistently held that government enforcement of religious observances is incompatible with biblical and constitutional principles, and that “God desires from all His creatures the service of love, service that springs from an appreciation of His character. He takes no pleasure in a forced obedience; and to all He grants freedom of will, that they may render Him voluntary service.” Adventistliberty This is why Adventists have historically been among the most vigilant, and most principled, defenders of First Amendment religious liberty, not only for themselves but for everyone. The church stated explicitly: “We would be as earnest against a law compelling people to keep Saturday as a law forcing all to cease from labor on Sunday. We want freedom for all. We regard religious liberty as the cornerstone of all true freedom.” Ellen G. White Writings Now consider what Adventists are watching in 2026. They see a Defense Secretary with Crusader cross tattoos hosting mandatory-adjacent evangelical worship services inside the Pentagon. They see the number of recognized military faith codes cut from 200 to 31. They see a Protestant-only Good Friday service in a chapel that serves a military force that is one-quarter Catholic. They see active-duty troops being told their war is part of God’s plan to trigger Armageddon. They see a president closing military ultimatums with “Glory be to God” on the day before Easter. They see the White House Faith Office populated by dispensationalist end-times theologians. They see Project 2025’s proposal for a uniform Sunday rest law moving through policy discussions. The North American Division of Seventh-day Adventists formally stated that the Sunday rest proposal “represents a dangerous desire to use state power to advance religious objectives” and is “irreconcilable with America’s rich heritage of protecting the religious freedom of all its citizens.” North American Division of Seventh-day Adventists
The day the United States and Israel bombed Iran, one Adventist writer received a message from a friend that said simply: “Jesus is coming soon.” Adventist Today That writer went on to reflect, thoughtfully, on what it means to deploy prophetic language responsibly, and on the danger of crying end-times so often that the warning loses its force. It is a fair caution. Adventists have been saying “Jesus is coming soon” through every major crisis of the last 180 years. The church has learned, sometimes painfully, that date-setting and event-mapping are spiritually and intellectually treacherous. Some within Adventism have argued that the church’s “watertight non-negotiable chronology of events leading up to the second coming” has become its own Maginot Line: a defense built for a war that arrives from an unexpected direction. Spectrum Magazine
But responsible caution about prophetic speculation is different from failing to name what is plainly visible. What Ellen White warned about was not an abstraction. She described, with remarkable specificity, a scenario in which the government of the United States would use religious rhetoric and official state power to privilege one form of Christianity, marginalize dissenters, and frame its military and political ambitions in the language of divine mandate. She warned that this process would begin gradually, that it would seem reasonable and even pious to many observers, and that its early stages would be dismissed as alarmist by people of good will. The Adventist tradition does not claim to know the day or the hour. It does not know whether the Iran war is the beginning of Armageddon, or one more chapter in the long, terrible history of human conflict dressed in religious clothing. What it does know, with 180 years of institutional clarity, is what the early warning signs look like. And it knows that silence, when those signs appear, is not wisdom. It is abdication. Ellen White wrote: “We are not doing the will of God if we sit in quietude, doing nothing to preserve liberty of conscience.” General Conference of Seventh-day Adventists This is not quietude.
What Religious Liberty Actually Requires One source told the Washington Post: “I don’t approve of cramming your religious faith down people’s throats, and when the top of the chain couches these operations in this hyper-Christian tone, it flies in the face of the freedom of religion that the Constitution enshrines and that our men and women in uniform sign up to defend.” The Daily Beast The military context makes this uniquely urgent. Civilians can walk away from a boss who proselytizes. Service members cannot walk away from a chain of command. When the Defense Secretary organizes monthly Christian worship services inside the Pentagon, reduces the military’s faith codes by 84 percent, marginalizes chaplains who do not share his theology, and prays in the name of Jesus Christ for overwhelming violence against the nation’s enemies, the constitutional concern is not abstract. It lands on real human beings who are already being asked to risk their lives. Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America put it well: “The idea behind faith in the military, whatever your faith is, is really useful in combat. However, being weaponized is the opposite of what the original intention is. People tune out, and that is really, really dangerous.” The Daily Beast
Iran’s general, responding to Trump’s Saturday ultimatum, reached for his own divine framing. The “gates of hell will open for you,” he wrote, echoing Trump’s language back at him. Two nuclear-adjacent powers, trading the language of holy wrath across an international crisis. The mirroring is not coincidental. It is precisely what happens when the leader of a nominally secular republic begins framing military action in the language of cosmic religious conflict. It licenses the same framing on the other side. It narrows the space for diplomacy. It raises the cost of backing down. And it tells everyone who might be persuaded toward peace that to stop fighting would be to defy God. The archbishop of the military services said the war is hard to view “as something that would be sponsored by the Lord.” The pope said God does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war. Ellen White said the union of church and state, be the degree never so slight, brings the church nearer to the world. On Saturday, the president closed a military ultimatum with a doxology. The theological tradition these leaders claim to represent has a word for that. It is not “glory.” ________________________________________ ReligiousLiberty.tv is reader-supported and carries no advertising. Subscriptions fund original reporting and analysis on faith, freedom, and the First Amendment. If this work matters to you, please consider supporting it. Share ReligiousLiberty.TV
