The IRS says churches can endorse candidates from the pulpit. But just because they can doesn’t mean they should.
The IRS just handed churches what should feel like a win for those of us who enjoy a good political scrap. According to a recent court filing, the agency announced the long-standing ban on political endorsements by tax-exempt organizations shouldn’t apply to houses of worship, at least not when they're speaking to their own members from the pulpit.
However, this is far from good news, because the pulpit isn't the place for endorsements it’s the place for proclamation. And not just any proclamation, but the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ. To turn the pulpit into a campaign rally, even under the guise of religious freedom, is to betray the very office it holds.
The Pulpit Belongs to Christ
Let’s be clear: the pulpit doesn't belong to the preacher, the congregation, or the state, it belongs to Christ. And Christ did not send his preachers into the world to advance the cause of Caesar. He sent them to "preach the gospel to every creature" (Mark 16:15). Afterall, that gospel is the power of God unto salvation (Rom. 1:16), not unto better tax policy, social justice, or even immigration reform.
Political causes, even good ones, cannot save. They cannot forgive sins. They cannot reconcile sinners to a holy God. And they cannot raise the dead. They have no business taking center stage in the one place designed to give life and life abundantly (John 10:10).
The Necessity of Distinguishing between the Law and the Gospel
One of the most salient takeaways for me in Gerhard Forde’s Theology is for Proclamation is the reality that the preacher's job is not to entertain, not to moralize, and certainly not to politicize. Rather, the preacher’s job is to kill and make alive. That’s not a metaphor; it’s the spiritual surgery God performs through his two words: law and gospel.
The law does the killing. It condemns you. It names you as what you are: a sinner, dead in trespasses and incapable of climbing out of the hole (Eph. 2:1). You can’t be fixed; you must be put to death. The gospel does the resurrecting. It declares that Christ was crucified for you, that you are forgiven and made alive entirely apart from your doing.
When law and gospel are clearly proclaimed from the pulpit, there is no room left for endorsing anyone or anything but Christ crucified. It doesn’t matter whether a candidate aligns with your theology or ethics. The church’s task is not to win elections. Its calling is to proclaim the forgiveness of sins to people who are spiritually bankrupt, politically bewildered, and far too dead to save themselves.
The problem with political preaching isn't that it’s offensive. The problem is that it’s impotent.
My friend and noted theologian, Jim Nestingen, used to say, “People don’t need more advice, they need a resurrection.” And he was right. The problem with political preaching isn't that it’s offensive. The problem is that it’s impotent. It treats the gospel like seasoning rather than the meal. It tells people to vote better, live better, and fix the world when what they need is to hear, “It is finished” (John 19:30).
When politics creep into the pulpit, we’re thrown back under the law. Politics, at their core, are about what we must do, what others must do, and how we can fix the world through policy and power. That’s all law. And when law takes the microphone on Sunday morning, the distinction between law and gospel gets muddled. Suddenly, the hearer is left not with the finished work of Christ for sinners, but with marching orders and moral mandates. Christ is no longer the gift; he becomes an example, or worse, a mascot. The gospel disappears beneath a pile of what we ought to do, instead of standing boldly as the declaration of what Christ has already done.
Rod Rosenbladt once said, “The church is not the place for making people better. It’s the place for announcing that they’ve been declared righteous for Christ’s sake.” Start muddying that water with political talk and you’ll lose the one message that actually saves; you’ll lose the gospel! You’ll end up with a congregation of activists instead of sinners who cling to the cross of Christ alone.
Preach the Word, Not the Party Line
Paul warns Timothy, and every preacher after him, to “preach the word… in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching” (2 Timothy 4:2). That’s the job. And it doesn’t matter if the IRS is watching or not. Frankly, I’m less worried about what the government thinks than what the Lord of the Church has commanded.
Vote your conscience. Be engaged. Speak the truth in love. Live out your vocation as a citizen in this country and the world. But don’t confuse the church’s mission with your nation's destiny.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Christians shouldn’t care about politics. Vote your conscience. Be engaged. Speak the truth in love. Live out your vocation as a citizen in this country and the world. But don’t confuse the church’s mission with your nation's destiny. God’s kingdom is not of this world (John 18:36), and it doesn’t rise or fall with your candidate.
What happens when we forget that? The message of Christ gets sidelined. The cross becomes a backdrop. And before long, churches are no longer known for what they proclaim, but for what they promote, or worse yet, which sinner they endorse as the new hope.
That’s not freedom. That’s bondage. That’s losing the gospel.
So yes, the IRS says churches can endorse candidates from the pulpit. But just because they can doesn’t mean they should. Not if they want to remain faithful. Not if they want to do what only the church can do; proclaim the Word that raises the dead, Christ himself (John 1).
Let Caesar have his endorsements. Give Christ the pulpit.