American politics forces Evangelicals to grapple with the tension between political expediency and the integrity of their faith.
A review of Megan Basham’s Shepherds for Sale: How Evangelical Leaders Traded the Truth for a Leftist Agenda.
Shepherds for Sale: How Evangelical Leaders Traded the Truth for a Leftist Agenda, by Megan Basham (Broadside, 352 pages, $32.99)
I n chapter 8 of the Acts of the Apostles, we encounter Simon Magus, a sorcerer from Samaria who converts to Christianity after witnessing the apostles’ miracles. Astonished by the power of the Holy Spirit, Simon attempts to purchase this spiritual authority from the apostles, offering money in exchange. Peter sharply rebukes Simon, condemning his attempt to buy the gift of God. Unfortunately, not all Christian leaders have exhibited Peter’s resolve. From the corruption of the medieval Roman Catholic Church to the opulent lifestyles of modern prosperity preachers, the lure of money has persistently tempted and corrupted Christian leaders throughout history.
Likewise, the relationship between wealth and the church remains a significant area of study. Recently, numerous books have explored the intersection of evangelicalism, money, and politics, particularly focusing on the connections between Evangelical leaders and the Republican Party. Scholars such as Kevin M. Kruse in One Nation Under God: How Corporate America Invented Christian America often depict shadowy businessmen, secretive conservative think tanks, and their alliances with Evangelical networks in their lust for political power. These books, with their portrayal of an unholy alliance of money, religion, and politics mixed with a touch of conspiracy, certainly make for exciting reads. But as numerous historians have attested, they often exaggerate their claims and have no sympathy for their subjects, with the truth typically being much more mundane than the Christian version of All the President’s Men. Perhaps most concerning is that these narratives cater to a liberal market predisposed to blame the Christian Right for all political woes and failed cultural aspirations.
Megan Basham, in Shepherds for Sale: How Evangelical Leaders Traded the Truth for a Leftist Agenda, presents a similar critique but shifts the focus to the left side of the spectrum. Although she offers a thought-provoking and fresh perspective, the book shares many of the same limitations as its counterparts.
From the outset, it is important to clarify the specific Christian traditions that Basham examines. Although the subtitle’s reference to a “leftist agenda” might suggest a focus on liberal mainline denominations, Basham primarily scrutinizes theologically conservative groups such as the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC), the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA), and various other Evangelical denominations. Much of her attention is directed toward prominent Evangelical leaders, publications such as Christianity Today and the Gospel Coalition, and institutions such as the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary.
These various entities significantly influence the beliefs, practices, and cultural engagements of Evangelical Christians, often referred to as “Big Eva” or, more critically, the “Evangelical Industrial Complex.” Given their history and traditional anti-abortion positions, stances on marriage, and often complementarian views on gender roles in the church and at home, it may seem perplexing that these churches, publications, and organizations are accused by Basham of aligning with a leftist agenda. They are, according to Basham, targeted precisely because they represent some of the most formidable obstacles to the implementation of progressive policy goals in America.
The book is organized topically, addressing a range of contentious issues such as climate change, illegal immigration, abortion, Covid-19, critical race theory, Me Too, and LGBT affirmation. In each chapter, Basham strives to show how certain Evangelical leaders and institutions have, whether mistakenly or intentionally, promoted secular progressive ideology, often benefiting the Democratic Party. She contends that this promotion stems from poor judgment, flawed theology, or, more troublingly, a desire for financial gain and approval from secular influencers or power brokers.
Each topic could easily warrant its own book, making Basham’s concise yet comprehensive treatment all the more striking. She does not shy away from naming those she believes have failed or actively contributed to these developments. Her list includes prominent figures such as Timothy Keller, the late influential pastor and Christian writer; David French, a columnist and lawyer; Francis S. Collins, a former director of the National Institutes of Health, and Russell Moore, the editor in chief of Christianity Today and the former president of the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission of the SBC.
Readers may find some sections more relevant and compelling than others, depending on their denominational affiliation, personal experiences within their churches, or how engaged they are with online Evangelical discourse. This variability makes it difficult to predict which aspects might shock, alarm, or resonate with readers — or whether they will recognize the sinister elements highlighted by Basham and align with her theological positions. The result is a mixed bag of journalism, theological assessment, and investigative reporting. While some readers may appreciate her boldness in calling out perceived corruption and doctrinal compromise, others may find her conclusions less persuasive owing to a lack of balance or nuance in her approach as well as their not being in accord with Basham’s own Southern Baptist theology. But much of her narrative will likely resonate on some level with those who, in recent years, have closely followed the actions of the figures and institutions she critiques.
One of her most compelling themes throughout is how some progressives have co-opted the principle of “loving one’s neighbor” to advance policy agendas and cultural shifts. “No matter the issue,” as Basham details time and time again, “all are thrown into the basket of “Love your neighbor.” In an ironic twist, progressive Christians, who often criticize traditional believers for misusing Bible verses — “clobber passages” cited to condemn liberal viewpoints — employ similar tactics to promote their own causes. Basham convincingly argues that even the Greatest Commandment (Matt. 22:35–40, Mark 12:28–34) has become a “clobber passage.”
Another salient point she makes is that Evangelical Christians are primarily the ones admonished by more-moderate churchgoers or the mainstream media to separate faith from politics, accused of power-grabbing, or expected to do all the listening in dialogues. In contrast, theological liberals are rarely asked by these same voices, whether in the church or in the media, to put the kingdom above party lines. Neither are they typically criticized for their persistence in pursuing doctrinal changes or accused of betraying the gospel when supporting Democratic candidates. While Trump has been repeatedly criticized for his significant personal moral failings and arguably non-Christian policy preferences, many of the Evangelical figureheads she names have been conspicuously silent when it comes to the Democratic Party’s leaders and their non-Christian policies.
While such critiques do exist, it is fair to say they lack the media coverage and splashy publishing support enjoyed by the bulk of Evangelical media. This discrepancy, though unsurprising given the liberal bias of mainstream media, underscores the uneven treatment in public and even Christian discourse. Case in point: Basham’s book is just one voice and is still vastly overshadowed by the numerous publications that spotlight the plight of exvangelicals, criticize Christian Republicans in the Trump era, and amplify calls for racial, sexual, and gender reckonings within the Evangelical church. But in the face of all these pressures, Basham concludes with an urge for Christians, especially leaders, to mimic past heroes of the faith who “courageously called nonsense nonsense and heresy, heresy.”
Yet the mixed reception of the book further complicates matters. It has received widespread praise in many Evangelical corners for its candid discussion of difficult truths, but figures including Joseph Holmes at Religion Unplugged and Warren Cole Smith at the Dispatch have criticized it for perceived biases, omissions, and inaccuracies. Holy Post’s Phil Vischer, one of the co-creators of VeggieTales and one of Basham’s subjects when it comes to Covid and abortion, has also responded, claiming that the book misrepresents him. Christian leaders on X (formerly Twitter) have contributed to the ongoing debate. While Basham has responded to these concerns there, my primary concern lies with the book’s scope and the broadness of its claims. She portrays the liberal drift as pervasive and widespread, yet Shepherds for Sale relies heavily on anecdotal evidence, with a significant focus on the SBC and celebrity pastors.
Moreover, many of the figures she critiques hold power in their local contexts and online, but it is difficult to measure their actual influence, especially since many of the church and denominational examples she cites lack formal ecclesiastical structures and direct lines of authority — no dioceses or bishops. The absence of concrete data, such as polling results or survey questions, may leave readers questioning the true extent and impact of the trends she describes. In her conclusion, for example, she briefly mentions the failure of the New America Foundation to influence Evangelicals on climate change despite spending millions of dollars to do so. While significant cultural changes are occurring within Evangelical Christianity, the shifts are likely more complex than a matter of external moneyed forces making inroads into Evangelical leadership. Leading causes of the change that Basham bemoans include fear of social-media backlash, heightened visibility and scrutiny, and generational shifts in values and priorities in ministry.
Basham can also be criticized for her dismissal of “holistic pro-life” advocacy, which she characterizes as another liberal influence pushing the church in a more progressive direction. Policies associated with this strain of the pro-life cause have long been, it is true, championed by progressive Democrats but are now gaining traction among conservative voters and garnering support from some Republicans, who are embracing what some on the right are calling a “pro-life New Deal.” For instance, states like Alabama, Louisiana, Missouri, and Texas have recently made efforts to make childcare more accessible by aiding low-income families, creating tax credits for childcare providers, and offering childcare subsidies.
During Donald Trump’s administration, maternity leave for federal employees was expanded, and the child tax credit was doubled. Trump proposed six weeks of paid leave for new parents, although that initiative did not survive the negotiation process. Given that financial burdens are a significant reason that couples delay having children, it should come as no surprise that some Evangelical Christians, like other Republicans, are beginning to advocate for such policies in the name of the pro-life movement. This may be further evidence not so much of the influence of economically progressive forces outside the church but rather of the continued decline of old-school Reaganism among rank-and-file churchgoers, and it may pave the way for the elevation of different family policies among the New Right.
It’s impossible to overlook the tone of political score-settling that pervades certain sections of this book, particularly regarding Trump. In the chapter on abortion, Basham criticizes Never Trump Christian leaders who opposed him, arguing that Evangelicals were justified in their support, especially given his role in appointing the Supreme Court justices who overturned Roe v. Wade. While Basham rightly questions whether some Evangelical leaders, in their zeal to oppose Trump, have diluted or abandoned their values, she sidesteps a profound and troubling issue: How can some Christians so openly and enthusiastically support Trump despite his marital infidelity, derogatory rhetoric, and conspicuous lack of humility?
While Basham acknowledges that Christians can disagree and have “different views regarding solutions” to political issues such as climate change and gun control, Trump has consistently displayed hostility toward immigration, NATO, the transatlantic alliance, and Ukraine. It’s hard not to recall the isolationism of the America First movement in the 1930s and the Robert Taft wing of the Republican Party in the early post–World War II years. Although these positions may not be explicitly aligned with or against Christian orthodoxy, their consequences certainly warrant scrutiny. With these historical lessons in mind, one can’t help but wonder what Dietrich Bonhoeffer or Reinhold Niebuhr would say.
Unfortunately, such questions remain largely unaddressed, as Basham asserts that Trump’s moral character was not a relevant issue at the ballot box and does not address other critical voting concerns. But this is not just a matter of political strategy; it strikes at the heart of the moral and ethical standards that underpin evangelical beliefs, especially given their previous insistence that a candidate’s character is crucial. While it’s true that liberal Christians and Democrats should also “take the plank out of their own eye,” it is equally valid — and perhaps necessary — to question whether some evangelicals have compromised their deepest convictions in their unwavering support of a leader whose personal conduct starkly contrasts with the values they claim to uphold. Yet some of the figures mentioned by Basham, who have accused evangelicals of sucking up to Donald Trump, have now endorsed the Harris-Walz campaign, joining a new Evangelicals for Harris initiative, highlighting the deepening political rifts within American Evangelicalism.
The unfortunate reality is that the current state of American politics forces Evangelicals to grapple with the uncomfortable tension between political expediency and the integrity of their faith, regardless of their political allegiance. If Shepherds for Sale contributes to this discussion, it further underscores the political fracturing of American Christianity. While it provokes necessary discussions, it also mirrors the growing divisions within the church. For any student of American Christian history, this discussion is nothing new, but it remains painful, regardless of who is pulling the political strings. Although it’s easy to claim in times of political unrest that Christ’s kingdom is not of this world, this truth doesn’t make the political reality any easier or the choices any clearer.