Why Christians Should Weigh Both a Politician’s Character and Ideas

In a previous column, I asked why God allows wicked people to win elections. One reader pushed back: Why ask that when James Talarico wins, but not when Donald Trump does? He pointed to what he sees as Trump’s moral failings. It was a fair challenge, though it moved the discussion from political ideas to a leader’s personal character.

The issue came into sharper focus when Ross Douthat asked Trump whether he could forgive his enemies. Trump said he probably could not, adding that he hated some of them and always would. His comments at Charlie Kirk’s memorial had hinted at a similar attitude. Christians shouldn’t wave away an answer like that. Still, does it settle how they should evaluate political leaders?

Some forms of evil are more serious than others. That distinction matters.

People have different kinds of love for those closest to them than they do for strangers far away. JD Vance drew criticism for making a similar point about an order of love: affection often extends outward in circles, with family and neighbors near the center.

There is, in a related sense, an order of evil. Christian teaching holds that every sin is deserving of God’s judgment, but it does not treat every sin as equally grave. The Westminster Shorter Catechism says that some sins are more heinous because of their nature and the circumstances around them.

The Westminster Larger Catechism points to factors such as who commits a sin, who is harmed, and what consequences follow. It gives particular weight to sins against Christ and his grace, and to wrongdoing by people who teach or lead others. A false teacher who draws many people away from Christianity can cause harm well beyond the bounds of his private life.

Think of Christianity, and the culture shaped by it, as a building. Some beliefs are part of its foundation. Attack those, and the damage may reach the whole structure, including the people who depend on it.

Love aims at another person’s good. But if we misunderstand what is truly good, we can lead someone in the wrong direction, even while meaning well. Good intentions, as the saying goes, can pave a road to hell.

If love begins with what is central to our lives, then evil can be understood by how it attacks what is most central. The Shorter Catechism opens by asking about humanity’s chief purpose. Its answer is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. The starting point matters because, in this view, everything else depends on knowing the highest good.

Augustine offered a related account of evil: it has no independent substance of its own, but is instead a corruption or absence of good. A counterfeit draws its appeal from resembling something real while lacking its value. Evil can work that way, too. It may not present itself as evil at all.

Sometimes the attack is direct, aimed openly at Christ or the Bible. But more often, something good is reshaped into a counterfeit. Politicians may appeal to marriage, family, care for neighbors, education, or fairness while separating those goods from any higher moral standard and making them serve changing human desires. A pledge of fairness, by itself, tells us very little. We still need to ask whose claims will be accepted, whose will be rejected, and on what grounds.

To recognize this kind of distortion, Christians need to make moral judgments. Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:1 are often treated as a ban on judging at all. Yet later in that chapter, he warns his followers to watch for false prophets who appear harmless but are dangerous within. The warning assumes that people must learn to distinguish truth from falsehood.

In politics, that means asking whether a candidate understands what is good for the country, whether his promises actually serve that good, and whether an appealing proposal is a counterfeit. It also means looking at the beliefs beneath political claims and considering whether the proposed means can reasonably achieve the stated ends.

James Talarico, speaking on the Texas House floor in 2021, said that “God is nonbinary.” In a later CBS interview, he described the remark as deliberately provocative and called some of his earlier statements embarrassing. He nevertheless defended the broader idea that God cannot be confined to human categories, citing the passage in Galatians that says believers are one in Christ regardless of distinctions such as being Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female.

But the Bible also uses human language to describe God as Father. Talarico’s interpretation uses Scripture to challenge what Scripture says about God and humanity. He has also drawn on the Bible to argue for government policy, even though people on the left often object when conservatives do the same.

None of this means a ruler’s personal sins should be ignored. Trump’s stated unwillingness to forgive his enemies deserves moral scrutiny. But personal conduct is not the only thing Christians should examine. They also have to consider the principles a politician promotes and what could happen if those principles become policy. Both questions matter.

Jesus’ warning about false prophets carries particular weight when someone claiming religious authority leads others astray. James 3:1 says teachers will face stricter judgment. The greater a teacher’s influence, the wider the potential harm when that influence is used to undermine the gospel. A teaching that challenges Christianity’s foundations is not merely a private failing.

Some evils are worse than others. Christians should be careful to recognize the difference.