Christian nationalism: The mirror image of progressive Christianity?

As mass demonstrations blend Christian imagery with nationalist politics, questions are growing about how Christians should respond to Christian nationalism.

Many Christians are uneasy about the ways faith and politics are increasingly intertwined.

Progressive Christianity seems, to some, to hollow out Biblical teaching in the name of inclusion. Christian nationalism, by contrast, appears to harden faith into a cultural or national identity.

Despite their differences, both raise a serious concern: What happens when Christianity is shaped more by contemporary politics than by the gospel itself?

'Progressive' Christianity

Progressive Christianity emerged, at least in part, from commendable instincts. It sought to challenge historic injustices, address the legacy of patriarchy and colonialism, and emphasise equality and care for the marginalised.

Many Christians rightly recognised the need for repentance and reform.

Yet in practice, progressive Christianity often travelled far beyond critique. In the name of inclusion, it came to affirm abortion, same-sex marriage, and considerable sexual autonomy.

Biblical authority is rarely rejected outright but steadily displaced by personal experience and contemporary moral intuition.

Scripture is reinterpreted until it rarely contradicts the prevailing cultural mood.

'Christian nationalism'

Christian nationalism begins from different concerns.

It reacts against moral chaos, cultural fragmentation, and the erosion of shared values.

It speaks about the importance of law, order, national borders, and the Christian inheritance of Western societies.

These instincts are not groundless. Christians should care about the common good and the moral foundations of public life.

But concern can slide into confusion. Christian nationalism often drifts towards calls for preferential treatment, nostalgia for a supposedly Christian past, and sometimes an ethnic or cultural nationalism thinly disguised in religious language. The cross becomes entangled with the flag, and the Kingdom of God confused with the fortunes of a particular nation.

Similarities

At this point, the similarities become harder to ignore. Both movements practise identity politics. One waves rainbow flags, the other national flags. One centres marginalised sexual identities; the other elevates national or ethnic identity. In both cases, faith risks becoming a badge of belonging rather than a call to repentance and discipleship.

Both struggle with truth when it threatens the narrative.

Progressive Christianity finds it difficult to maintain moral and biological clarity under cultural pressure. Appeals to “lived experience” and personal authenticity are allowed to outweigh empirical reality and Christian teaching, particularly on questions of sex, the body, and the unborn.

Christian nationalism can fall into similar distortions. The Christian character of Britain is often overstated, while colonial history is selectively remembered and claims about popular support exaggerated. Underlying these moves is a fearful approach to belonging, in which questions about who truly belongs are answered in a defensive and exclusionary way.

A deeper problem, and the solution

The deeper problem is theological.

In both movements, culture and politics begin to lead, and Scripture is then used to support conclusions already reached. Progressive Christianity allows secular moral instincts to shape how the Bible is read. Christian nationalism allows cultural fears and tribal loyalties to do the same.

In different ways, both end up shrinking the gospel. Progressive Christianity empties it of moral challenge, offering affirmation without repentance. Christian nationalism narrows its scope, tethering the good news to a particular people, place, or past.

The gospel resists both distortions.

The gospel calls us to love our neighbour—including the immigrant, the stranger, and the vulnerable—without abandoning moral clarity.

The gospel affirms the goodness of nationhood and culture without idolising them.

The gospel offers belonging not through identity politics but through the cross, where Christ makes one new humanity from every tribe and tongue.

The real danger for the church is not that one side will win the culture war, but that in fighting it we forget who we are. When Christian thinking is shaped more by party politics than by the gospel, we should not be surprised if distorted reflections of Christianity — progressive or nationalist — stare back at us.