Christian Philosophy of Political Stewardship: A Response to David Baggett

David Baggett has been one of the greatest influences on my philosophical development. In fact, it is because of his great work on objective morality, that I now must publicly stand against him.

Long before we found ourselves on opposite sides of America's political divide, I admired Dave as one of Christianity's foremost defenders of the Moral Argument for God's existence. I even featured him on my YouTube channel because his scholarship has helped countless people recognize that objective moral values and duties point beyond the natural world to God Himself. I continue to regard him as one of the leading philosophers working in this area today.

When my own book was published, I was deeply honored that David agreed to endorse it. He wrote the following:

“Among the moral phenomena in need of rich explanation is moral freedom, without which it would seem we cannot rightly be held deeply responsible for our actions—either accolades for doing well or blameworthiness for shirking our duties. Speaking as an advocate of the moral argument(s) for God, I applaud my friend Tim Stratton’s clear-headed and rigorous defense of the sort of robust libertarian freedom without which morality and many of its salient categories lose much of their distinctive import, prescriptive clout, and binding authority. Resonances between Stratton’s principled and clearly explicated views and my own considered convictions are legion, and I recommend with enthusiasm his work—not least his operative theology rife with the implications of God’s essential and perfect goodness, unspeakable love for everyone, and genuine gracious offer of salvation to all.”

His encouragement meant a great deal to me, and I remain grateful for the years we spent thinking and reasoning together. But it is the same “operative theology” that Dr. Baggett praised about me that has not changed. It is this exact operative theology that led to my former church—where I pastored for a decade and continued to serve for another eight years—to disfellowship me and my family. And it is that exact same operative theology that leads me to publicly oppose what has changed in David Baggett’s life.

With that said, our history and previous friendship makes this article difficult to write.

In his recent essay explaining why he and his wife Marybeth no longer identify as evangelicals, Baggett argues that American evangelicalism has become increasingly shaped by politics rather than by the gospel. He worries that many Christians have subordinated theology to partisan loyalties, excused profound moral failures in political leaders, and sacrificed Christian witness in pursuit of political victories.

I appreciate much of what Baggett says. Indeed, if Christians ever begin identifying the Kingdom of God with a certain political party, they have committed idolatry.

But this is not what has happened—Christians have properly identified the “Kingdom of Satan” with a certain political party. There is one party that seeks to advance objective evil. Consider this non-exhaustive list compiled by Dr. Robert A.J. Gagnon—one of Baggett’s closest friends:

• State-sponsored child abuse via chemical castration and surgical mutilation of confused minors.

• An unhindered death cult of abortion for all 9 months (including infanticide for babies who survive botched abortions).

• State abduction of your minor child if parents do not support the confused child’s “LGBTQ” identification to the state’s satisfaction.

• The scandal and harm to females of putting males in female private spaces (bathrooms, locker rooms, showers, shelters, prisons, and sports).

• Massive election cheating through illegal immigration that threatens to result in a one-Party state nationally (after the model of California).

• A radical reduction of free speech and free exercise of religion (including compelled speech) regarding any criticism of “LGBTQ+” immorality and abortion.

• The weaponization of the Justice Department to go after states that do not protect so-called “reproductive freedom” (abortion with zero limits).

• The legalization of school officials lying to parents about their child’s “trans” identification and use of cross-gender hormones.

• Using a parent’s non-support for their child’s “LGBTQ+” identification as a reason to deny to that parent custody in a divorce settlement.

• Persecution of one’s chief political opponent as though the US were a Banana Republic.

• Forced “LGBTQ+” indoctrination with accompanying threat to educational and employment opportunities.

• Jailing of pro-life protestors and whistle blowers at hospitals doing chemical castration and mutilation surgery on minors.

• Loss of federal student loans and ultimately loss of accreditation for Christian schools that do not promote “LGBTQ” immorality.

• Nomination and appointment of court justices who have no problem with legislating far-Left from the bench and overriding constitution protections.

• Higher inflation and national debt through expansion of the social welfare state.

And don’t get me started about this same political party seeking to disarm the population (a typical move of dictators). Each one of these evils is enough to justify being a “single-issue voter,” but combined they provide a cumulative case leading to the conclusion that for an informed Christian to be consistent, he or she cannot vote FOR the evil policies advanced by this political party. Indeed, these evils are far more destructive to your neighbors than anything that happened on January 6^th, 2021.

With that said, if Christians excuse genuine evil simply because it advances their preferred political agenda, they have compromised their witness. If politics becomes more important than Christ, something has gone terribly wrong. On these points, I stand with David Baggett. Yet after spilling tons of ink debating these topics with him over the years, and carefully reading his recent essay, it is clear that we disagree at a much deeper level.

Our disagreement is not fundamentally about Donald Trump. It is not about January 6. It is not even about what we refer to as “evangelicalism.” Rather, our disagreement concerns a far more basic question: What does love of neighbor require of Christians who possess political influence?

I believe this is the missing premise in David Baggett's recent essay.

Throughout his article he rightly reminds Christians to love their neighbors, pursue justice, exercise humility, and remain faithful to Christ. I affirm every one of those obligations. But he never fully addresses the next question: How should Christians apply those moral duties when they possess lawful political power in a constitutional republic?

That question changes everything.

For me, voting has never been primarily about expressing admiration for a candidate's personality. It has never been about pledging allegiance to a political party. It has never been about "winning" as if it’s on par with my favorite football team.

Never!

Rather, voting is one small but significant stewardship entrusted to citizens by God. 

Paul teaches that “there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God” (Rom. 13:1). In first-century Rome, political authority was concentrated in emperors, governors, and magistrates. In the American constitutional system, however, a significant measure of political authority has been lawfully entrusted to the citizens themselves—“We The People.” We elect representatives, influence legislation, serve on juries, petition those in office, and use our freedom of speech to shape the culture in which our neighbors must live. In this limited but genuine sense, American citizens occupy positions of political influence under God.

Because God has granted us libertarian freedom, we are not passive cogs who merely undergo political events. No, we possess the power—and therefore the responsibility—to logically deliberate, speak, vote, and act. These freedoms are not merely personal privileges to be enjoyed; they are stewardships to be exercised faithfully. We ought to use the political power and freedom of speech still entrusted to us (while we still have it) to resist evil, promote justice, conserve our freedoms, and seek the objective good of the neighbors Christ commands us to love.

Like every other stewardship, the way we ought to vote is governed by the Law of Christ. Jesus summarized the entire moral law in two commands: love God and love your neighbor.

"'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets." (Matt. 22:37–40)

Paul echoes this truth when he writes that "the whole law is fulfilled in one word: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself'" (Gal. 5:14).

If that is true—and I believe Dave and I both affirm that it is—then the relevant political question is not merely, "Which candidate possesses the better character?"

The deeper and bedrock question is this:

How can I best use whatever influence God has entrusted to me to seek the objective good of my neighbors?

That question has guided my political reasoning for decades. It is also why I believe Dave has continually misunderstood my position despite many private phone calls, Facebook messages, and email conversations over the years.

My political conclusions have never been derived from mere partisan ideology. They have been derived from analytic theology. In fact, this conviction lies at the very heart of FreeThinking Ministries' mission:

Reasoning together (Isaiah 1:18) by applying logic and sound theology to all aspects of life.

Notice that we do not merely apply theology to church life. Nor only to apologetics. Nor only to evangelism. We apply theology to all aspects of life.

Voting is an aspect of life. Citizenship is an aspect of life. Government is an aspect of life. Politics, voting, and elections are a huge aspect of life that have real consequences for real people.

If Christ is Lord over all of life, then Christians cannot arbitrarily separate biblical theology from political responsibility. The question is not whether theology should influence politics. The real question is whether our political judgments faithfully follow from sound theology.

This is where David Baggett and I part ways.

Ironically, I believe the philosopher who has done as much as anyone to defend objective morality has not consistently followed that moral framework into the realm of political stewardship.

That is a serious claim. It is one I do not make lightly. But because I continue to admire Baggett as both a philosopher and a brother in Christ, I believe his arguments deserve something better than dismissal. Indeed, they deserve a careful response.

My contention is that Christian political ethics must be derived deductively from the Law of Christ. Once that is done, political stewardship (including our votes and our voices) follows as a moral obligation.

This essay is not ultimately about Donald Trump, the Republican Party, or evangelicalism. It is about whether Christians have a moral obligation to use the political influence God has entrusted to them in order to seek the objective good of their neighbors.

Where Baggett and Stratton Agree

Baggett and I agree on a great deal. We both affirm that objective moral values and duties exist. We both believe those objective moral truths ultimately require God as their foundation. We both believe every human being bears the image of God and therefore possesses inherent dignity. We both affirm historic Christian orthodoxy, the authority of Scripture, the sanctity of unborn human life, the importance of marriage as God designed it, and the call for Christians to pursue justice, honesty, humility, compassion, and love.

Those agreements are not trivial. They are foundational.

Indeed, many of the political conclusions I have reached over the past decade were shaped, in part, by principles that Baggett himself helped me understand through his work on the Moral Argument. His scholarship reinforced something I already believed as a Christian: morality is not merely a matter of personal preference or cultural convention. Good and evil are objective features of reality because they are grounded in the perfectly loving nature of God (1 John 4:8).

If objective morality is real, then Christians cannot treat political decisions as morally neutral. Voting, public advocacy, and civic responsibility inevitably involve moral judgments about justice, human dignity, and the protection of our neighbors.

This is why I find it impossible to separate theology from politics. Not only do they overlap, they are inextricably linked.

Notice that I did not say I cannot separate the church from the state. Those are distinct institutions with different God-given responsibilities. Nor am I advocating for a Christian theocracy. Rather, I am saying something much simpler—and, I believe, much more biblical.

Theology necessarily shapes ethics. Ethics necessarily shapes how we evaluate public policy. And public policy necessarily affects the well-being of our neighbors.

That is not "politicizing the gospel." It is allowing the gospel—and the moral vision that flows from it—to inform every area of life.

Voting is an aspect of life. Citizenship is an aspect of life. Serving on a jury is an aspect of life. Running for office is an aspect of life. Military service is an aspect of life. And if Christ is Lord over all of life, then He is also Lord over how Christians exercise political stewardship.

This is where I believe Dave unintentionally misunderstands evangelical Christians like me. He suggests that theology has been displaced by politics, that political loyalties are increasingly shaping theology rather than theology shaping political engagement.

Speaking for myself, nothing could be further from the truth!

My political convictions are not the starting point. They are the deductive conclusion. Consider the following deductive argument:

1. Christians are morally obligated by Christ to love their neighbors.

2. Loving one's neighbors requires seeking their objective good.

3. Therefore, Christians are morally obligated to seek the objective good of their neighbors.

4. If a person is morally obligated to seek an end, and God has entrusted that person with a stewardship whose exercise foreseeably affects that end, then that stewardship ought to be exercised in a manner directed toward that end.

5. Christians who are citizens of a constitutional republic possess genuine political stewardship because God has entrusted them with lawful political influence.

6. The exercise of political stewardship foreseeably affects the objective good of our neighbors because political decisions promote or hinder human flourishing.

7. Therefore, Christians ought to exercise their political stewardship (which includes voting) in a manner directed toward the objective good of their neighbors.

Allow me to defend each premise in turn.

Premise 1: Christians are morally obligated by Christ to love their neighbors.

Jesus declared that the second greatest commandment is this:

"You shall love your neighbor as yourself." (Matt. 22:39)

Indeed, Christ taught that all the Law and the Prophets hang upon loving God and loving our neighbors (Matt. 22:37–40). Later, He deepened this command by instructing His disciples to love one another as He Himself had loved them (John 13:34–35). Likewise, the Apostle Paul writes,

"The whole law is fulfilled in one word: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'" (Gal. 5:14)

No informed and consistent follower of Christ disputes that love of neighbor is a binding moral obligation. Indeed, it stands at the very center of Christian ethics.

Premise 2: Loving one's neighbor requires seeking that neighbor's objective good.

Scripture never treats love as mere sentiment or emotional affection. Biblical love is active. It wills and pursues the genuine good of another person.

Jesus illustrates this vividly in the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37). The Samaritan does not merely feel compassion. He protects the injured man, binds his wounds, transports him to safety, pays for his care, and ensures his continued recovery. Love is demonstrated through concrete action directed toward another person's flourishing.

Paul likewise teaches,

"Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law." (Rom. 13:10)

Similarly, John writes,

"Let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth." (1 John 3:18)

Love, therefore, is not primarily an emotion. It is willing and acting for another person's objective good.

Because Premise 1 commands Christians to love their neighbors, and Premise 2 defines what that love entails, it follows that Christians are morally obligated to seek the objective good of their neighbors.

Premise 4: If a person is morally obligated to seek an end, and God has entrusted that person with a stewardship whose exercise foreseeably affects that end, then that stewardship ought to be exercised in a manner directed toward that end.

Throughout Scripture, God's people are repeatedly described as stewards.

Peter writes,

"As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace." (1 Pet. 4:10)

Paul adds,

"It is required of stewards that they be found faithful." (1 Cor. 4:2)

Jesus teaches the same principle in the Parable of the Talents (Matt. 25:14–30), where servants are judged according to how they used what had been entrusted to them.

Likewise, Jesus declares,

"Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required." (Luke 12:48)

The biblical principle is clear. God never entrusts influence merely for private enjoyment. Every stewardship carries moral responsibility.

Therefore, if God entrusts a Christian with a sphere of influence that foreseeably affects the objective good of others, that stewardship ought to be exercised according to God's moral purposes—including Christ's command to love one's neighbor.

Premise 5: Christian citizens of a constitutional republic possess genuine political stewardship.

Romans 13 teaches that civil government is ordained by God to reward good, restrain evil, and bear the sword of justice (Rom. 13:1–7).

Unlike the Christians living under Nero's Rome, however, citizens of constitutional republics possess genuine political influence. We elect representatives. We vote on laws. We serve on juries. We petition our government. We publicly advocate for justice. We exercise freedoms of speech, assembly, and political participation that many believers throughout history never possessed.

These are not accidents of history. According to Acts 17:26–27, God sovereignly determined the times and places in which human beings would live. If He has providentially placed us within a constitutional republic, then the lawful political influence afforded by that republic constitutes a stewardship entrusted to us by God.

Like every other stewardship, it must be exercised faithfully.

Premise 6: The exercise of political stewardship foreseeably affects the objective good of our neighbors.

This premise is nearly self-evident.

Public policy influences whether innocent human life is protected or destroyed, whether families are strengthened or weakened, whether justice is upheld or corrupted, whether religious liberty is preserved or suppressed, and whether governments reward good or encourage evil.

Scripture repeatedly recognizes this reality.

Proverbs teaches,

"When the righteous increase, the people rejoice, but when the wicked rule, the people groan." (Prov. 29:2)

Likewise,

"Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people." (Prov. 14:34)

Isaiah likewise condemns rulers who enact unjust laws that oppress the vulnerable (Isa. 10:1–2), recognizing that governmental decisions produce real consequences for real people.

Political authority is therefore never morally neutral. The exercise of political stewardship foreseeably affects whether our neighbors flourish or suffer.

The Deductive Conclusion

Having defended each premise, the conclusion follows deductively.

Because Christians are commanded to seek the objective good of their neighbors, because every God-given stewardship must be exercised toward God's moral purposes, because citizenship in a constitutional republic includes genuine political stewardship, and because political stewardship objectively affects the well-being of our neighbors . . .

Christians ought to exercise their political stewardship (which includes voting) in a manner directed toward the objective good of their neighbors.

This argument does not, by itself, determine which candidate, policy, or political party Christians ought to support. Rather, it establishes the governing moral principle by which such questions must be evaluated.

Everything that follows in this essay concerns the prudential application of that principle to the concrete political realities of contemporary America. Reasonable Christians may disagree about particular candidates or policies. But if God has entrusted us with genuine political influence, then we are morally responsible for how we exercise it. To neglect that stewardship—or to exercise it carelessly—is itself a moral decision that misses the mark.

Love Properly Ordered

The Christian Political Stewardship Argument begins with love. But what exactly does it mean to love rightly?

Jesus did not merely tell us that we ought to love. He gave our loves their proper order:

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matt. 22:37–39).

God must occupy first place. Every other love must be ordered beneath our supreme love for Him. This is why Jesus commands His followers to “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness” (Matt. 6:33).

The command to love God first, however, does not diminish the importance of loving our neighbors. On the contrary, our love for God necessarily expresses itself through love for those who bear His image. So, when we properly keep the second great command, we also keep the greatest command. John makes this connection unmistakable:

“If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen” (1 John 4:20).

Love for God and love for neighbor are therefore not competing obligations. Properly ordered love for God produces active love for our neighbors.

This provides the biblical foundation for what Augustine described as the ordo amoris—the proper ordering of our loves. Augustine recognized that moral corruption does not always consist in loving things that are intrinsically evil. It often consists in loving good things in the wrong way, to the wrong degree, or in the wrong order.

With that in mind, I do not love America more than Christ. I do not love politics more than the gospel. I do not love conservative victories more than the Kingdom of God. I do not believe the Republican Party is the Kingdom of God (I’m a registered Independent), nor do I believe any politician should be granted the loyalty that belongs to Christ alone.

If I did, Baggett’s critique would be justified.

But our loves can also become disordered in the opposite direction. Christians may become so concerned with preserving their personal sense of political purity—or so committed to their public appearance being untainted by association with a morally flawed candidate—that they neglect the concrete well-being of the neighbors Christ commands them to love.

Ultimately, this is both prideful and selfish. It is sin—and a great sin!

This prideful selfishness has sadly infected the minds of many former evangelicals. Indeed, it is possible to selfishly love one’s reputation for political neutrality more than the neighbor endangered by public policy. It is possible to selfishly love the appearance of moral consistency more than the unborn child whose life is at stake. It is possible to selfishly love one’s distance from an imperfect political movement more than the family, the vulnerable child, or the victim of injustice who may be harmed if a more destructive political movement gains power.

That, too, would be a disordering of love.

When love is disordered, it misses the mark and becomes evil. Properly ordered love refuses both political idolatry and political indifference. It neither treats political victory as the highest good nor treats political responsibility as beneath the concern of serious Christians.

This distinction is crucial: Politics is not the object of my love. My neighbor is (Gal 5:14).

That’s the most important sentence in this entire essay. Please re-read it as many times as it takes to remember it. Please do not attack a straw man and accuse me of something else.

Politics is one instrument through which love of neighbor is expressed—or neglected.

Politics must never become our religion. It cannot reconcile sinners to God or replace the mission of the Church. Only the gospel possesses that power. Nevertheless, the fact that politics cannot accomplish everything does not mean it accomplishes nothing. Laws protect or endanger. Governments punish evil or permit it. Policies strengthen families or undermine them. Elections have real consequences for real image bearers.

Therefore, refusing to idolize politics does not require refusing to engage in politics. Indeed, rightly ordered love may sometimes require political engagement precisely because politics has real consequences for the neighbors Christ commands us to love.

The relevant question is not:

“Do I love politics?”

The relevant question is this:

“How does my supreme love for God govern the way I use political influence and power for the objective good of my neighbors?”

That question keeps Christ above politics while placing political stewardship beneath the Law of Christ—exactly where it belongs.

Responding to Baggett's Central Claims

Baggett writes:

"Character, we were increasingly told, mattered less than policy. I found that astonishing."

I do not find this astonishing at all. In fact, I find it morally unavoidable.

Policies are not abstractions. They are laws, judicial appointments, executive actions, and governmental decisions that directly affect millions of image bearers. Public policy can protect unborn children or permit their destruction. It can preserve religious liberty or curtail it. It can strengthen families or undermine them. It can restrain evil or empower it.

A candidate's personal character certainly matters. Christians should never deny that.

But when choosing between two morally imperfect candidates, the central question becomes: Which set of policies will better love and protect the neighbors Christ commands us to love? In other words, policy is not more important because character is unimportant. Policy becomes decisive because policy is one of the primary means through which political leaders exercise their character toward millions of other human beings.

Baggett writes:

"Character and leadership [are] inseparable."

I agree that, ideally, character and leadership are inseparable. The perfect ruler would possess both impeccable personal virtue and perfectly just public policies. But presidential elections do not present us with ideal choices. They present us with fallen human beings.

The relevant question therefore becomes one of stewardship: Which available candidate is more likely to produce public policies that objectively protect our neighbors?

Elections are not canonizations.

Baggett writes:

"I still affirm the sanctity of unborn life . . . but . . ."

This is where I struggle to understand Dave's position. If unborn children truly possess objective human dignity—as I believe Dave sincerely affirms—then helping place into political power those committed to expanding abortion requires a level of explanation that his essay never provides.

The tension is not merely political. It is philosophical.

Indeed, it is theological.

Baggett writes:

"We live in a constitutional republic, not a theocracy."

I agree completely.

We are not advocating a Christian theocracy. But the American constitutional order itself rests upon a profoundly theological proposition: that human beings possess objective, unalienable, God-given rights.

The Declaration of Independence does not ground rights in majority vote, social contract, or governmental decree. It grounds them in the Creator.

That is not theocracy. It is the philosophical foundation of the American experiment.

Fear, Prudence, and the Moral Duty to Protect Our Neighbors

Baggett rightly warns Christians not to be governed by fear. I wholeheartedly agree. Scripture repeatedly commands God's people, "Do not fear." Panic, anxiety, and irrational dread are incompatible with trusting the providence of God.

But Scripture also distinguishes irrational fear from prudent recognition of genuine danger. After all, Noah built an ark because God's judgment was coming, Joseph stored grain because famine was coming, and Nehemiah rebuilt Jerusalem with a sword in one hand and a trowel in the other because hostile enemies genuinely sought to destroy God's people (Neh. 4:17-18).

None of these men were acting from panic. They were acting from wisdom.

Prudence is not panic. Wisdom is not hysteria. They were rational and ready.

Recognizing objective threats is not a failure of faith. It is often an expression of faithfulness. It's a result of rationality.

Indeed, Proverbs repeatedly commends such prudence:

"The prudent sees danger and hides himself, but the simple go on and suffer for it" (Prov. 22:3; cf. 27:12).

The issue, therefore, is not whether Christians should acknowledge danger. The issue is whether the perceived danger is real.

When I express concern about policies that expand abortion, undermine parental authority, erode religious liberty, normalize the chemical and surgical mutilation of children, weaken constitutional protections, or advance ideologies such as Marxism or Islam that have historically produced catastrophic consequences for human flourishing, I am not appealing to irrational fear. I am making an argument based upon history, evidence, and foreseeable consequences.

That is not panic.

It is rational prudence.

More importantly, it's an application of the second greatest commandment. Love does not ignore foreseeable harm to one's neighbor simply to avoid appearing alarmist. Love prepares. Love warns. Love protects. Love acts before the damage becomes irreversible.

The question is not whether Christians should be motivated by fear. We should not. The question is whether Christians should be motivated by love that wisely recognizes real threats to the neighbors Christ has commanded us to love.

I believe the biblical answer is yes.

This same principle helps explain why I struggle with Baggett's concluding praise for evangelical voices such as David French, Russell Moore, and Peter Wehner. Baggett commends them because they remind him that Christians can engage politics without sacrificing "intellectual honesty, fruit of the Spirit, or love of neighbor."

But love of neighbor cannot be measured merely by our intentions or our rhetoric.

Scripture consistently measures love by what it actually does.

As James reminds us, faith without works is dead. Likewise, John writes, "Let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth" (1 John 3:18). Jesus illustrates the same principle in the Good Samaritan, where genuine love is demonstrated not by sentiment but by concrete action that protects a vulnerable neighbor.

The same principle applies to political stewardship.

Love of neighbor must be evaluated, at least in part, by the foreseeable consequences of our political decisions. If our political choices—or our refusal to make politically consequential choices—predictably expose our neighbors to objective injustice, then appeals to love become difficult to reconcile with the practical effects of those choices.

The issue, then, is not who speaks most eloquently about love. Nor is it who appears the least politically controversial. The relevant question is this:

Does my political stewardship effectively protect the neighbors Christ has commanded me to love?

That question returns us to the central thesis of this essay. Political engagement is not an end in itself. Politics is not our religion. Politics is simply one of the many stewardships God has entrusted to His people. Like every other stewardship, it must be governed by the Law of Christ.

When politics becomes one of the principal ways our neighbors are either protected or harmed, then politics necessarily becomes one of the principal ways Christians either love—or fail to love—their neighbors. That, I believe, is the missing premise in David Baggett's otherwise thoughtful essay.

Conclusion

I began this essay by expressing my admiration for David Baggett. I now conclude by expressing it again.

I continue to believe Dave is one of the world's foremost defenders of the Moral Argument for God's existence. Few philosophers have done more to demonstrate that objective moral values and duties point beyond the natural world to the perfectly good God revealed in Jesus Christ. His scholarship has profoundly influenced my own thinking, and for that I remain deeply grateful.

Yet this is precisely why I believe this conversation matters.

The question before us is not merely why objective morality points to God. Dave has spent years helping the Church answer that question with remarkable clarity. The deeper question is this:

What does objective morality require of Christians once we know it?

My contention throughout this essay has been that the commands of Christ and the Law of Christ place us in an epistemic position to know at least this much: Christians are commanded to love God above all else and to love their neighbors as themselves. From those commands follows a moral obligation to steward every sphere of influence God has entrusted to us—including lawful political influence—for the objective good of our neighbors.

That is the line of reasoning I have attempted to defend.

I did not begin with Donald Trump.

I did not begin with the Republican Party.

I did not begin with conservative politics.

I began with the risen Jesus Christ.

From Jesus Christ I moved to the Law of Christ.

From the Law of Christ to objective love.

From objective love to stewardship.

From stewardship to political responsibility.

And only then did I ask which available political alternative best fulfills that responsibility.

Having followed that line of reasoning, I remain convinced that it is impossible for both an informed and consistent Christ follower to use his or her political influence to advance the objectively evil policy agenda of the modern Democratic Party. While reasonable Christians may disagree over particular candidates, strategies, or legislation, I do not believe they may ignore the objective moral consequences of public policy for the unborn, the family, religious liberty, children, or the countless other neighbors whom Christ commands us to love.

If political stewardship is genuinely governed by the Law of Christ, then Christians should use the influence God has entrusted to them to restrain and block the objective evil threatening to destroy their neighbors. This requires voting for candidates who legitimately have a chance at winning elections so that we can keep objective evil out of power.

Which is why I argued that Christians had a moral obligation to vote for Trump in 2024, and why we still have a moral obligation to vote for Republicans in the mid-terms in 2026 and in the next Presidential election in 2028 (not to mention all of our local elections).

To refuse that stewardship—or to treat it as morally insignificant—is itself a moral decision that misses the mark. Indeed, by definition, it is a sin that violates the greatest commands of Christ.

Although he has unfriended me, called me "ridiculous," "foolish," "dishonest," a "shill for Trump," and his last words to me were "So done with you," I still love David Baggett as a brother in Christ. I remain grateful for his past friendship, his scholarship, and the tremendous influence he has had upon my own intellectual development. But I also believe that David Baggett has failed to carry the objective moral framework he has defended so effectively into the realm of political stewardship. In my judgment, his conclusions do not consistently follow from the moral vision he has spent his career articulating.

My prayer is not merely that Dave will reconsider my conclusions. My prayer is that he will reconsider the argument itself. If I have erred, I welcome correction. Show me which premise is false. But if the premises are true, then we should all have the courage to embrace the logically deductive conclusion and live accordingly.

For in the end, politics is not the object of our love. Christ is. And because Christ is, our neighbors must be. Everything else follows from that.

Stay reasonable (James 3:17),

—Dr. Tim Stratton