The return of the religious Left
Progressive Christians are turning doubts over Republicans’ moral credentials into electoral gains
Poppy Wood US Correspondent, in Austin, Texas
Published 08 November 2026 11:58am GMT
When James Talarico took to the stage as Texas’s first Democratic senator since 1988, he asked his audience to remember “that story from scripture of a shepherd boy who goes up against a giant”.
The trainee pastor, who swept to victory on Tuesday night, said Americans could also learn a few lessons from “a barefoot rabbi” who lived 2,000 years ago. Staff members congregating around him on stage waved signs saying: “Love thy neighbour.”
Faith will move mountains, so the Bible says. And, as it turns out, it will also move the electorate.
For decades, religion in the US has been seen as the preserve of the Right, with Republicans traditionally viewed as the party of Christian values – particularly among evangelicals. But a suite of significant wins for religious Democrats in this year’s midterms suggests that may be about to change.
Five clergy members and pastors-in-training were elected to Congress for the Democrats on Tuesday. Alongside Mr Talarico were Adam Hamilton, a Methodist mega church pastor elected as senator of Kansas, and Sarah Trone Garriott, a Lutheran minister voted in as a congresswoman in Iowa.
Democrat James Talarico, a trainee pastor, flipped the Senate seat in Texas Credit: Getty /Brandon Bell
Democrats are hopeful that those successes mark an electoral breakthrough in the US, and could end the Republican monopoly on religious politics.
Strategists believe widespread feelings of corruption were integral to the rise of this new Christian Left. An astonishing 90 per cent of voters in this year’s midterms said corruption in government was a major factor in their vote, according to NBC exit polls. It matched their frustration over the cost of living crisis, fuelled by the war in Iran.
“The Republican claims of being the party of values, for family values. [That held] until they nominated Donald Trump,” said Michael Wear, who served as head of religious outreach for Barack Obama’s administration. “I think there was this genuine sort of [feeling of] ‘my faith can’t be represented by this man in public life’.”
Mr Trump’s approval rating among white evangelical Protestants declined to 58 per cent before the midterms, according to the Pew Research Centre, compared with 78 per cent at the beginning of his second term.
Both Mr Talarico and Mr Hamilton leant on their faith to promise a return to moral decency that they suggested was lacking in the current administration, and among their opponents.
Mr Talarico took aim at Ken Paxton, his Republican rival and the Texas attorney general, whose campaign was blighted by a series of resurfaced scandals. Mr Paxton, who benefited from $212m in donations from Elon Musk, was impeached by his own party in 2023 on corruption allegations, and his wife later said she was divorcing him on “biblical grounds”.
Mr Talarico claimed his opponent had “failed the character test”, was “morally unfit for office”, and argued the midterms were a choice between “a career criminal and a servant leader”.
In Kansas, meanwhile, Mr Hamilton tapped into the Republican incumbent’s debt-collecting past. Roger Marshall, a former obstetrician, was accused of preying on low-income families by hitting patients with lawsuits over unpaid bills. The New York Times reported that he and his practice sued more than 700 patients, and that 81 cases resulted in arrests after missed court appearances.
Strategists believe widespread feelings of corruption were integral to the rise of this new Christian Left. An astonishing 90 per cent of voters in this year’s midterms said corruption in government was a major factor in their vote, according to NBC exit polls. It matched their frustration over the cost of living crisis, fuelled by the war in Iran.
“The Republican claims of being the party of values, for family values. [That held] until they nominated Donald Trump,” said Michael Wear, who served as head of religious outreach for Barack Obama’s administration. “I think there was this genuine sort of [feeling of] ‘my faith can’t be represented by this man in public life’.”
Mr Trump’s approval rating among white evangelical Protestants declined to 58 per cent before the midterms, according to the Pew Research Centre, compared with 78 per cent at the beginning of his second term.
Both Mr Talarico and Mr Hamilton leant on their faith to promise a return to moral decency that they suggested was lacking in the current administration, and among their opponents.
Mr Talarico took aim at Ken Paxton, his Republican rival and the Texas attorney general, whose campaign was blighted by a series of resurfaced scandals. Mr Paxton, who benefited from $212m in donations from Elon Musk, was impeached by his own party in 2023 on corruption allegations, and his wife later said she was divorcing him on “biblical grounds”.
Mr Talarico claimed his opponent had “failed the character test”, was “morally unfit for office”, and argued the midterms were a choice between “a career criminal and a servant leader”.
In Kansas, meanwhile, Mr Hamilton tapped into the Republican incumbent’s debt-collecting past. Roger Marshall, a former obstetrician, was accused of preying on low-income families by hitting patients with lawsuits over unpaid bills. The New York Times reported that he and his practice sued more than 700 patients, and that 81 cases resulted in arrests after missed court appearances.
Adam Hamilton, a Methodist pastor, drew on his faith during his campaign for the Kansas Senate seat Credit: AFP/Getty Images/Austin Johnson
Mr Hamilton’s campaign ran an attack advert featuring one of Mr Marshall’s female patients who described being handcuffed in front of her young daughter while eight months pregnant following a dispute over a medical debt.
In response, Mr Marshall and Mr Paxton embarked on a crusade to prove their opponents were insufficiently religious. Both traditional Christians themselves, they painted their rivals’ faith as too progressive for American voters.
Mr Marshall attacked the Democratic candidate’s church for discussing climate change in sermons and for supporting Pridefest, an LGBT festival. At an August press conference, the Republican senator said his opponent was a “mega church pastor that’s too woke for Kansas”.
The Trump administration similarly went hell for leather on what it regarded as Mr Talarico’s own “wokery”. Describing him as “Talafreako”, the US president and his allies sought to paint the Democratic challenger as a liberal oddball out of touch with traditional Texan values.
They mocked him as a vegan, heavily insinuated he was gay, and suggested he had an unhealthy interest in transgender children – none of which is true. But Mr Talarico’s past comments did come back to bite him. An AI-generated attack ad for the Republicans summed it up: a fictional Mr Talarico was seen annotating a copy of the Bible with his previous remark that God is “nonbinary”.
In Michigan, the Trump administration also suggested Abdul El-Sayed’s comments about his Muslim faith meant he was a “jihadist”.
Mr Hamilton’s campaign ran an attack advert featuring one of Mr Marshall’s female patients who described being handcuffed in front of her young daughter while eight months pregnant following a dispute over a medical debt.
In response, Mr Marshall and Mr Paxton embarked on a crusade to prove their opponents were insufficiently religious. Both traditional Christians themselves, they painted their rivals’ faith as too progressive for American voters.
Mr Marshall attacked the Democratic candidate’s church for discussing climate change in sermons and for supporting Pridefest, an LGBT festival. At an August press conference, the Republican senator said his opponent was a “mega church pastor that’s too woke for Kansas”.
The Trump administration similarly went hell for leather on what it regarded as Mr Talarico’s own “wokery”. Describing him as “Talafreako”, the US president and his allies sought to paint the Democratic challenger as a liberal oddball out of touch with traditional Texan values.
They mocked him as a vegan, heavily insinuated he was gay, and suggested he had an unhealthy interest in transgender children – none of which is true. But Mr Talarico’s past comments did come back to bite him. An AI-generated attack ad for the Republicans summed it up: a fictional Mr Talarico was seen annotating a copy of the Bible with his previous remark that God is “nonbinary”.
In Michigan, the Trump administration also suggested Abdul El-Sayed’s comments about his Muslim faith meant he was a “jihadist”.
Michigan Democrat Abdul El-Sayed became the first Muslim elected to the US Senate Credit: AFP/Getty Images/Jeff Kowalsky
The tit-for-tat attacks saw congressional battles turn into effective squabbles over religious authenticity. Many viewed this as the “Charlie Kirk effect”, with recent data show young, predominantly white men in the US increasingly identifying with conservative Christianity.
But while Republicans fared well from the culture wars in 2024, it was not enough to convince voters this time around, as many struggled with their bills. In the end, Mr El-Sayed became the first Muslim senator in US history; Mr Talarico turned the US’s third-most religious state blue, and Mr Hamilton became Kansas’s first Democrat senator in 94 years. The last time Kansas had a Democrat in the Senate,
The tit-for-tat attacks saw congressional battles turn into effective squabbles over religious authenticity. Many viewed this as the “Charlie Kirk effect”, with recent data show young, predominantly white men in the US increasingly identifying with conservative Christianity.
But while Republicans fared well from the culture wars in 2024, it was not enough to convince voters this time around, as many struggled with their bills. In the end, Mr El-Sayed became the first Muslim senator in US history; Mr Talarico turned the US’s third-most religious state blue, and Mr Hamilton became Kansas’s first Democrat senator in 94 years. The last time Kansas had a Democrat in the Senate,
The Wizard of Oz was still showing in cinemas.
For religious voters, morality may have swung the vote. “I think to the extent that people looked inside of their own religio, their own sense of what is faithful, what is true, then yes, religion may have played a part,” said Dr Margaret Aymer, the head of academic affairs at the Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, where Mr Talarico received a master’s in theological studies.
Mr Talarico is still pursuing a master of divinity at Austin Seminary, with the aim of becoming a pastor, but has put his studies on hold to run for office. The campus in central Austin, which feels more like a university than a Bible camp, may offer some insights into how his brand of faith soared to electoral success. Wind chimes are slung from a large oak grove, and students mill about in normal clothes.
“We are not an assembly line for any kind of doctrine,” Dr José R Irizarry, the president of the Austin Seminary, told The Telegraph. “We are not a factory… I personally say there’s no Christian Right nor Left. There’s a right way to be a Christian, and there’s a Christianity left to its own tradition.”
Mr Talarico’s progressive church, which he has attended since he was a child, may also have allowed his version of Christianity to cast a wide net. That is especially true in Austin, which until recently was considered a blue anomaly in a ruby-red state.
The pastors at St Andrew’s church preach about Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). A sign outside the church – a plain building by the side of a motorway – says “no human is illegal”, with an image of barbed wire underneath it. Attendance saw an uptick when pastors spoke out after Roe v Wade was overturned in 2022, rendering abortion illegal in Texas and many other states.
“I think it’s nice for people to hear and learn that there are these different ways of being Christian, because I think the progressive voice has not been the dominant voice,” said Erica Knisely, an associate minister at St Andrew’s.
“I would like to think that morality matters to people, and that someone who’s able to articulate a sense of the common good – that’s going to appeal to a lot of people, religious or not.”
Social media has helped boost the church’s following, with viral sermons about political topics particularly popular among young people. It includes some Hindu and Muslim attendees, as well as Catholics – many of whom are Hispanic.
For religious voters, morality may have swung the vote. “I think to the extent that people looked inside of their own religio, their own sense of what is faithful, what is true, then yes, religion may have played a part,” said Dr Margaret Aymer, the head of academic affairs at the Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, where Mr Talarico received a master’s in theological studies.
Mr Talarico is still pursuing a master of divinity at Austin Seminary, with the aim of becoming a pastor, but has put his studies on hold to run for office. The campus in central Austin, which feels more like a university than a Bible camp, may offer some insights into how his brand of faith soared to electoral success. Wind chimes are slung from a large oak grove, and students mill about in normal clothes.
“We are not an assembly line for any kind of doctrine,” Dr José R Irizarry, the president of the Austin Seminary, told The Telegraph. “We are not a factory… I personally say there’s no Christian Right nor Left. There’s a right way to be a Christian, and there’s a Christianity left to its own tradition.”
Mr Talarico’s progressive church, which he has attended since he was a child, may also have allowed his version of Christianity to cast a wide net. That is especially true in Austin, which until recently was considered a blue anomaly in a ruby-red state.
The pastors at St Andrew’s church preach about Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). A sign outside the church – a plain building by the side of a motorway – says “no human is illegal”, with an image of barbed wire underneath it. Attendance saw an uptick when pastors spoke out after Roe v Wade was overturned in 2022, rendering abortion illegal in Texas and many other states.
“I think it’s nice for people to hear and learn that there are these different ways of being Christian, because I think the progressive voice has not been the dominant voice,” said Erica Knisely, an associate minister at St Andrew’s.
“I would like to think that morality matters to people, and that someone who’s able to articulate a sense of the common good – that’s going to appeal to a lot of people, religious or not.”
Social media has helped boost the church’s following, with viral sermons about political topics particularly popular among young people. It includes some Hindu and Muslim attendees, as well as Catholics – many of whom are Hispanic.
James Talarico’s supporters cheer him on at a midterm watch party in Austin Credit: Getty/Chip Somodevilla
Latino voters were crucial to the Democrats flipping Congress in this year’s midterms, many of whom turned on Mr Trump having voted decisively for him in 2024. Concerns over heavy-handed ICE raids are thought to have played a major role, alongside the economy.
In Texas, 70 per cent of Hispanic voters cast their ballot for Mr Talarico – a 42 percentage point swing from two years ago. While rising prices probably sealed the deal, faith-based talk of loving thy neighbour can hardly have hurt. Around 80 per cent of Latino adults in the US identify as Christian.
But whether or not the Democrats can cement their religious successes in this year’s midterms in their favour in 2028 remains to be seen. Unlike Joe Biden and Bill Clinton, who spoke loosely about their personal faith but did not connect it with their vision of the country, religious messaging worked for Mr Talarico and Mr Hamilton because they really meant it, Mr Wear told The Telegraph.
“If Democrats now think that anyone in any context can just pull out a scripture verse and that will win… no, what will happen is they’ll ruin it for the candidates who really mean it,” he said.
“That can sour really quickly. For a long time, the Democrats would talk about Republicans using faith as a weapon. I think there’s a danger that faith will be viewed as an effective way to attack Republicans.”
The path is set for religion to continue as a political battleground before the 2028 presidential election, in a country where nearly two-thirds of people identify as Christian.
JD Vance, the vice-president whom many believe will be the next Republican presidential candidate, has said people should love “our family first, then our neighbours, then love our community, then our country, and only then consider the interests of the world”. Others, including the Pope, have suggested that caring for the poor, sick and displaced is a truer vision of Christianity.
Many suspect that Mr Talarico may too have ambitions to bring his new “politics of love” to the White House. Others may view that sort of messaging as too wishy-washy to secure the ballot.
His church is not resting on its laurels. This Sunday’s sermon at St Andrew’s will take a stock check, said Ms Knisely. “We’re still working on it, but I think it will be like: ‘However wonderful you feel, we still have a lot of work to do.’”
Latino voters were crucial to the Democrats flipping Congress in this year’s midterms, many of whom turned on Mr Trump having voted decisively for him in 2024. Concerns over heavy-handed ICE raids are thought to have played a major role, alongside the economy.
In Texas, 70 per cent of Hispanic voters cast their ballot for Mr Talarico – a 42 percentage point swing from two years ago. While rising prices probably sealed the deal, faith-based talk of loving thy neighbour can hardly have hurt. Around 80 per cent of Latino adults in the US identify as Christian.
But whether or not the Democrats can cement their religious successes in this year’s midterms in their favour in 2028 remains to be seen. Unlike Joe Biden and Bill Clinton, who spoke loosely about their personal faith but did not connect it with their vision of the country, religious messaging worked for Mr Talarico and Mr Hamilton because they really meant it, Mr Wear told The Telegraph.
“If Democrats now think that anyone in any context can just pull out a scripture verse and that will win… no, what will happen is they’ll ruin it for the candidates who really mean it,” he said.
“That can sour really quickly. For a long time, the Democrats would talk about Republicans using faith as a weapon. I think there’s a danger that faith will be viewed as an effective way to attack Republicans.”
The path is set for religion to continue as a political battleground before the 2028 presidential election, in a country where nearly two-thirds of people identify as Christian.
JD Vance, the vice-president whom many believe will be the next Republican presidential candidate, has said people should love “our family first, then our neighbours, then love our community, then our country, and only then consider the interests of the world”. Others, including the Pope, have suggested that caring for the poor, sick and displaced is a truer vision of Christianity.
Many suspect that Mr Talarico may too have ambitions to bring his new “politics of love” to the White House. Others may view that sort of messaging as too wishy-washy to secure the ballot.
His church is not resting on its laurels. This Sunday’s sermon at St Andrew’s will take a stock check, said Ms Knisely. “We’re still working on it, but I think it will be like: ‘However wonderful you feel, we still have a lot of work to do.’”
No comments:
Post a Comment