🚨Trump’s Sunday Just BLEW UP As Pastors Everywhere REVOLT!

WASHINGTON — For years, Donald Trump has relied on strong support from conservative religious voters, particularly white evangelical Christians, who helped form a core pillar of his political coalition. But nearly a year into his second term, a growing number of pastors and religious leaders across denominations are publicly questioning that alliance, arguing that the fusion of faith and politics under the banner of “MAGA Christianity” has distorted Christian teaching and divided congregations.

The criticism has come not from secular activists but from within the church itself — Catholic bishops, mainline Protestant ministers and even some evangelical voters who once backed Mr. Trump enthusiastically. Their objections are not primarily theological abstractions, they say, but concerns rooted in immigration policy, rhetoric toward minorities and the use of Christianity as a political identity rather than a moral framework.

In recent months, sermons, op-eds and interviews have reflected a widening discomfort among non-evangelical Christians. Data suggests the divide has long existed, but it is becoming more visible. According to surveys by Pew Research Center, Mr. Trump’s approval among white evangelical Protestants remains high, approaching 80 percent. Yet support drops sharply among other Christian groups: about half of non-evangelical white Christians approve of his leadership, while support among Catholics hovers in the low 40s. Among Black Protestants, approval falls into the single digits.

That divergence has increasingly translated into public dissent. In December, two mainline Protestant ministers, the Rev. Doug Pagitt and the Rev. Lorie Watkins, published an opinion essay in The Guardian criticizing what they described as the rise of “MAGA Christianity,” which they defined as a politicized version of the faith that elevates power, grievance and exclusion over compassion and humility.

“MAGA Christianity represents a self-serving, commercialized version of the Christian faith,” the authors wrote, arguing that it prioritizes political dominance over service to the vulnerable. They warned that government initiatives framed as defending Christianity risk marginalizing religious minorities and transforming belief into an instrument of state power.

Their critique came amid a series of moves by the Trump administration that have been welcomed by some conservative religious groups but alarmed others. Mr. Trump has announced plans to strengthen protections for prayer in schools, established a task force led by Attorney General Pam Bondi to investigate alleged anti-Christian bias, and issued statements framing anti-Christian sentiment as a potential national security concern.

Supporters argue these measures correct years of cultural hostility toward religious expression. Critics counter that they blur constitutional lines and conflate Christianity with partisan loyalty.

“This is not about defending faith,” said one Methodist pastor in the Midwest who asked not to be named to avoid backlash within his congregation. “It’s about using faith as a badge of belonging — and that’s deeply troubling for many of us.”

Some of the most striking criticism has come from voters who once counted themselves among Mr. Trump’s religious supporters. In interviews circulating online, self-identified evangelical Christians have expressed regret, saying they felt misled by promises that a Trump presidency would restore moral leadership.

Others point to moments that symbolized, for them, a gap between religious imagery and conduct. Mr. Trump’s 2020 photo opportunity outside a Washington church, during which he held up a Bible after federal officers cleared protesters from the area, remains a touchstone for critics who see it as emblematic of performative faith.

Religious scholars say the current moment reflects a broader reckoning within American Christianity.

“What we are seeing is not a sudden collapse of evangelical support,” said a professor of religion and politics at a major university. “It’s a reassertion by other Christian traditions that they do not recognize themselves in this version of political Christianity.”

For Black churches, Latino Catholics and many mainline Protestant congregations, concerns extend beyond rhetoric to policy outcomes — particularly immigration enforcement, LGBTQ rights and social welfare programs. Pastors in those communities argue that Christian teaching demands solidarity with the marginalized, not suspicion of them.

Still, Mr. Trump’s relationship with the religious right remains formidable. White evangelical leaders continue to defend him as a flawed but effective instrument for advancing conservative judicial appointments and opposing abortion. In that sense, the fracture is less about numbers than about voice: who speaks for Christianity in the public square.

As the 2026 midterm elections approach, that question may carry political consequences. While Mr. Trump is unlikely to lose his evangelical base, erosion among Catholics, suburban Christians and younger believers could complicate efforts to expand his coalition.

For now, the revolt among pastors is less an organized movement than a moral protest — a reminder that American Christianity is not monolithic, and that for many believers, faith cannot be reduced to a campaign slogan or a voting bloc.

Whether those voices reshape the political landscape remains uncertain. But their emergence signals that the conversation about religion and power in the Trump era is far from settled.