Charlie Kirk’s funeral this week in a packed professional football stadium in suburban Phoenix drew somewhere between 200,000 and 300,000, a TV viewership of tens of millions, the inevitable controversy that comes not only with the assassination of a prominent activist, and the more particular controversy that comes the public meetings that wed Christianity and politics.
Few events in recent American political memory have combined politics and religion as openly, or as perhaps as seamlessly, as the funeral Turning Point USA provided ostensibly for the family and fans of Charlie Kirk. The event influenced political, religious, and social discourse in the United States, and there is no reason to believe the funeral will soon be forgotten. Affecting moments, from Evangelical cleric Frank Turek’s Christ-focused eulogy, to the sitting Secretary of State’s earnest declaration of the Christian Gospel, to the President of the United States’ cheerful but unabashed dismissal of the Christian command to love enemies, to most poignantly Erika Kirk’s public forgiveness of her husband’s killer, all became instant and striking soundbites and points of discussion for Americans who loved Charlie Kirk’s easy association of his faith with right wing politics.
Those same memorable moments from Kirk’s funeral—captured on video for posterity—inflamed the opinions of Americans who fear a religious and particularly Christian takeover of the American state. The day after the funeral, CNN columnist Zachary B. Wolf wrote that while Americans were “used to hearing about the tradition of separating church and state, but the two are increasingly fused in President Donald Trump’s administration.” Never in recent memory, said Wolf, had “Americans seen more top government officials speak so openly about Jesus Christ as they did at Charlie Kirk’s memorial, which Trump described as ‘an old-time revival’ rather than a funeral.”
Americans approach the relationship of religion and politics in various ways. Secularists believe that religion—usually Christianity—should be absented, even forcefully so, from politics. Others believe that religion, particularly religion rendered from the Abrahamic traditions, necessarily informs the American political order, and should therefore have a prominent rhetorical and intellectual place in the American political order. A very small rump of Roman Catholics and Protestants would subsume the state into an ecclesiastical order.
Charlie Kirk’s funeral was not, it might be noted, run by a church, nor was the event even a funeral in a traditional sense. It was a public meeting, held by a company—TPUSA—that included clerics and politicians speaking to fans and devotees in their capacity as friends of Charlie Kirk. It was, in one sense, a private event. But therein lies the potential rub. Do the president—and vice president, and cabinet officers—actually speak in any public capacity as merely private citizens, and can religious speech or actions done with the associated presence (but not necessarily endorsement) of the United States’ federal government be merely incidental? These are important questions, largely because the answer is not readily clear. There are no clear constitutional precepts that Charlie Kirk’s funeral abrogated. No laws were broken; no one was oppressed for their religion or lack thereof. But there were customs that were abridged, and it is perhaps those customs, rather than federal laws or the Constitution, that need to be revisited in 2025.
All of the United States’ presidents have identified as Christians, and a significant number of them have been actively pious. The same reality applies to the vice president, the cabinet, and congress. But throughout most of the American republic’s history, presidents maintained a customary aloofness from certain types of religious events, particularly events that might be seen as inappropriately uniting church and state, and events that might be deemed to be sectarian. Churchly funerals were avoided by presidents.
During the longue duree of the 20th Century, Protestant churches filled more and more social and political space. A national cathedral was created, wherein the Episcopal Church was treated as a de-facto state church of the American Union. Mainline Protestants, whose increasingly syncretic theology saw little in the way of threats to the liberal order from churches, never worried about their syncretism. It was popular, and widely accepted. The decline of the Protestant mainline in the 1960s, and the balkanization of American society in the aftermath of the Cold War, meant that the old mainline syncretism of early and midcentury America could no longer assume widespread societal support. The rise of Evangelicals in particular meant that a new religious demographic increasingly ruled the roost of political religion especially in conservative circles.
By 2025, Evangelicals outnumbered mainliners and represent the mainstream not merely of conservative Christianity, but of Protestant Christianity in general in the United States. They are generally conservative, and support Republican politics. Like their mainline cousins, they do not have a reflexive theology that separates politics from religion. Kirk’s funeral, far from being a deviation from the historic American mean, is evidence of a transfer of American religious syncretism from classically liberal mainliners to populist conservative Evangelicals. Politically conservative Evangelicals undoubtedly see this as a victory, but there is no reason to think that Evangelicals, like the mainliners, won’t lose their theological saltiness to a desire for political power in just the same way their mainline cousins did. Even now, Evangelicals are renegotiating long-standing beliefs in order to maintain their place at the Trumpian table. Perhaps this is what any politically influential group has to do. But there’s no reason to think that history has given Evangelicals clairvoyance that mainliners lacked. Evangelicals who concede this similarity and know about the historical consequences might be likely to be cautious in further mixing of politics and religion. The issue at present, however, is that too many Evangelicals think they won’t make the same mistakes as the mainline.








