Recently, a Christian friend dismissively sputtered of the upcoming election, “Regardless of who wins, we’ll survive just fine.”

On the one hand, I do think we will survive. But on the other, is the meager aim of survival an acceptable position for believers to take, particularly those who desire to be preserving salt, piercing light, and the aroma of Christ in a darkening world, as the Bible tells us we should be?

This week, I heard a pastor preach a sermon in which she said, “If Jesus were here today, He would be an abortion clinic escort, distracting women from the hatred of the protestors.” She went on to reimagine Jesus’s Beatitudes by adding, “Blessed are those who end pregnancies, for they will be known for their loving kindness.”

It reminds me of the uncountable church leaders who chided us, “If Jesus were here today, He would take the vaccine.” Or, “If Jesus were here today, He would march with the university students.” Of course, these are the same preposterous prophets who conveniently forget that Jesus was a Jew.

This leads me to this time-proven axiom: Whenever you hear a progressive person introduce a statement with, “If Jesus were here today, He would . . .”, assume the crash position and brace for impact.

Speaking Without First Listening

This is why I never subscribed to the rubber-banded bracelet brigades of “What Would Jesus Do?” in the late 1990s. The biblical, spiritual, and eternal reality is this: Jesus is here now. He is Emmanuel with us and the promised Spirit within us. There is no need to pose as His press secretary, particularly like the ones with microphones who have clearly had no recent audience with The King.

Those who seldom bend the knee ask the rest of us, “What would Jesus do?” The better question is, “What is Jesus doing?” And best yet, “What is Jesus saying?”

So in these moments when I catch Christians making careless claims on Christ’s behalf, I’ve trained myself to pause, set my affections upward, and listen. I listen to hear if Heaven concurs with an echo or resounds with a rebuke. Do I hear, “It seemed good to the Holy Spirit …” (Acts 15:28) or, “The Spirit of Jesus would not allow …” (Act 16:7)?

When watching a roundtable discussion, a debate, or a conference, dare to gaze beyond the screens and the podiums and imagine what is transpiring off camera in the unseen realms. Is the great cloud of witnesses cheering, or is a dirty mob of demons jeering? Have angels gathered to behold man touching glory, or have Hell’s guard assembled to witness something thing gory? Is the Kingdom of Light beaming upon onlookers, or is the Kingdom of Darkness casting shadows on lurkers?

There is nothing nuanced when comparing light with dark, good with evil, or truth with deception. But because we are embattled by an enemy who poses as anything other than his nature, the Lord has given us the gift and ability to “distinguish between spirits” (1 Corinthians 12:10). We have never needed this gift more than we do today.

The After Party

I was recently asked to write a review of Megan Basham’s new book, Shepherds for Sale. In it, she masterfully exposes how leftist interests and dark money have flooded into the evangelical church in America, causing pastors to exchange long-held biblical positions for en vogue cultural causes. The result in these churches? Sacred transcendence is rare, flesh-driven energy is plentiful, and congregants are left confused and ill-equipped to discern the times in which we are living.

With a monumentally consequential election just weeks away, I am gobsmacked by how many preachers avoid the topic entirely. One obvious explanation might be the fear of losing congregants. But as I read the gospels, it seems that when the crowds following Jesus reached a zenith, He almost purposely said or did something to slough off a large contingent of them.

Another apparent reason is that senior leadership teams often cannot reach unity on core issues and, therefore, lack a unified message to deliver to the congregation. Therefore, their private division manifests as public silence. As my beloved pastor of many years ago would say, “If church leadership is divided, it means only one of two things. Either some have not heard from the Lord, or none have heard from the Lord.”

Basham pulls the curtain back on a nationally distributed Bible study curriculum designed to shape how believers think about political identity. Named The After Party, it is a partnership of Trinity Forum, New York Times religious opinion columnist David French, Duke Divinity Professor Curtis Chang, and Christianity Today Editor-in-Chief Russell Moore.

For those not familiar with the work of these individuals, a first glance might instill hope for a biblically balanced treatment of political viewpoints. However, this is far from the case. These three pundits’ public aim is to dissuade believers from voting for Donald Trump.

From the course’s promotional materials:

As nationally trusted evangelical voices, local leaders do not have to take all the fire by themselves. They only need to sponsor this curriculum into their small group communities and let us make the case.

Precisely which case do they make, and why, with such self-adulation and aggrandizement, are they overruling the local leaders who know their congregations best?

Chang equates abortion with redemption; Moore has been pushing progressive ideology since the Obama administration; and French believes that in order to save conservatism, we must vote for Kamala Harris.

Basham describes, in great detail, that the funding for The After Party came from far-left benefactors like Rockefeller Philanthropy Advisors, the Hewlett Foundation, and The One America Movement — all devoted donors to anti-Christian initiatives like Planned Parenthood, gender mutilation for children, and Black Lives Matter, etc.

What Do You Really Hear?

As I watched the launch event for this curriculum, I heard many words, philosophies, and opinions being shared, yet there was very little language of the Kingdom. When wo or more believers gather, Scripture promises that Jesus is present with them. Yet, as these three winsome amigos ruminated over their pseudo-intellectual musings, little acknowledgment was made nor was deference given to the Honored Guest.

Tragically, few pastors have delved into the origin story of these prepackaged propaganda classes, and as a result, churches across the country have adopted this material. I’ve experienced this sloppy style of de-cipleship firsthand — but I was able to instantly detect the stranger’s voice and not the voice of The Shepherd, so it didn’t affect me. But when pastors send their untrained flocks into this type of setting, it’s akin to tossing sheep into Class 5.0 rapids armed only with a binky and water wings.

I still contend that these congregants are without excuse. We will not be judged before the Great White Throne for what our leaders did or did not do; the Righteous Judge gave us the Holy Spirit so that we can distinguish, decipher, and discern good from evil, light from dark, and error from truth for ourselves — and then behave accordingly.

It is baffling that so many believers insist that Christians should not be political. That’s as silly as saying Christians shouldn’t be athletic. Scripture is silent on whether Jesus ever played Little League, so we should let unbelievers dominate baseball, right?

Next time you hear someone making the case that Christians should not be political, pause and listen closely to who is cheering in agreement. Particularly today, when so many cultural movements have cult-like adherence.

Abortion has become a sacrament to the left, anti-racism has become a religious ordination, LGBTQ has become religious devotion, vaccines have become an unholy eucharist, and climate care has become religious abstinence.

Maybe religious people will stop being political when political people stop being religious.

The Lord is always speaking, He is constantly moving, and He has unimaginably invited us into this sacred dance of love: Father, Son, Spirit. As long as we live in the finite confines of this fear-obsessed world, may we act as those who bring the eternal world to this one.

May the posture of our heart in worship be: Sing less and listen more. May the posture of our spirit in prayer be: Speak less and listen more. May the posture of our mind when watching the news be: Set our gaze beyond to see who is cheering.

A version of this article originally appeared at Intercessors for America.

Keith Guinta is, in reverse order of importance, a mountaineer, standup comic, Ironman marathoner, coach, church planter, small business owner, coffee roaster, rookie blogger, worship leader, father, husband, and younger brother of Christ. Read his thoughts on his blog, The Wine Patch.