On a recent Tuesday afternoon, Sam Brownback, the former governor of Kansas and a champion of socially conservative causes, asked a small crowd of his fellow Christian voters if they were feeling discouraged.
Inside this church in Grapevine, Texas, nearly every hand shot up.
The response might seem mystifying: These voters had won huge victories, most notably in overturning Roe v. Wade, which had guaranteed the constitutional right to abortion.
And Mr. Brownback sat alongside a former football coach whose victory in another Supreme Court decision allowing prayer on the field symbolized the court’s decisive swing in their favor.
But with the presidential election closing in, hope suddenly felt thin. Powerful efforts to “suffocate” their values seemed to be everywhere, Mr. Brownback said to widespread agreement.
He tried to offer reassurance. He recounted the biblical story of Gideon, who triumphed in battle against a vast army with only 300 men by his side.
“God never needs a majority,” he said. “All he needs is a faithful remnant.”
As opposition to their social agenda grows, particularly on abortion, many conservative Christians are experiencing whiplash as they grapple with an uncertain future.
For years, many evangelical Christians and Catholics operated with the sense that they were a silent majority. If they could simply motivate enough of their fellow Christians to vote, they believed they could win, and often they did.
By all indications, conservative Christians are poised to vote again overwhelmingly for former President Donald J. Trump in November. But now, they are facing the reality that many of their views are not widely held, and that to advance their goals nationally they need power at the highest levels — power that Mr. Trump suddenly seems less inclined to give.
In that way, the coming election feels like a referendum on the role of conservative Christianity in American public life. And some conservative Christians worry that it is a race that is harder and harder to win.
The country is growing more secular and pluralistic by the year, with regular church attendance declining. Many leaders in the Republican Party, their political home for decades, have gone silent about their opposition to abortion rights and same-sex marriage. And, Mr. Trump, the man once considered to be their strongest champion, is publicly distancing himself from their causes, even as he attacked Democrats in the presidential debate for their support of reproductive rights.
For decades, their views have been embraced and pushed by the Republican Party. When Mr. Trump ran for president in 2016, he made a promise — “Christianity will have power” — to groups unsure of his loyalty to their cause. Even after he lost re-election in 2020, Mr. Trump gave them overwhelming victories through the judicial system he remade. Overturning Roe was the culmination of a generational battle for conservative Christians, delivering a victory that amounted to one of the biggest political resurgences in American history.
But in this post-Roe era, the political landscape has grown increasingly fraught for them.
“We had been on offense for 50 years, and now they’re on offense,” said Ralph Reed, a longtime conservative operative who led the Christian Coalition in the 1990s. “That doesn’t mean that we won’t ultimately prevail, it just means that we’re in a different season in that struggle.”
In some cases, their priorities are more visible than ever, particularly in states that are Republican strongholds. The chief justice of the Alabama Supreme Court invoked their God in a landmark ruling declaring that frozen embryos had rights as children. Oklahoma required that public schools teach the Bible, in an extraordinary blurring of religious instruction and public education.
But the end of Roe led to mainstream backlash that they have struggled to navigate. Christian activists’ opposition not only to abortion, but also to I.V.F. and some forms of contraception, has proved deeply unpopular with voters. Their movement has transformed from an asset to a liability, prompting Mr. Trump and other Republicans to soften their once-staunch opposition to abortion rights and same-sex marriage.
It is far from clear that a second Trump administration would abandon their movement.
Senator JD Vance of Ohio, the Republican vice-presidential nominee, remains deeply committed to their vision, maintaining his staunch opposition to abortion rights and belief in the primacy of the traditional family. Mr. Trump’s allies have spent years making detailed plans, outlined in Project 2025, to enact a socially conservative agenda that could transform not only abortion rights but also marriage, education, transgender rights and the role of Christianity in American public life. And even if Vice President Kamala Harris wins the election, there’s no swift way for Democrats to reverse the impact the Trump administration had on the federal judiciary.
But conservative Christians are frustrated. Mr. Trump seems “disinclined” to reach out to his Christian base, said Cole Muzio, the president of Frontline Policy Action, a group in Georgia that pushes for “Godly policies” with a network of conservative Christian organizations.
Even the mailers the Trump campaign and the Georgia Republican Party have sent to his house are vexing, Mr. Muzio said.
The fliers point out that “Donald Trump is against Project 2025, which I am for; and that Donald Trump is pro-I.V.F. mandate, which I am against; and that Donald Trump believes that some abortion access is good and should be ultimately decided by states, and that’s what we’ve always wanted, and I disagree with that premise,” he said.
Bunni Pounds, who heads Christians Engaged, an organization that works with churches to register and influence conservative Christians, said she was disappointed that the new Republican Party platform had removed a reference to marriage being between a man and a woman.
“The Trump campaign has made it harder for people like me who are trying to galvanize the Christian vote,” she said.
At the very least, she said, she was confident that “Bible-believing Christians” would not be voting for Ms. Harris.
At the event in Texas, the emcee, Ian Giatti, a reporter for The Christian Post, described the mood this year in his circle as a more extreme version of the “Hold your nose and vote” atmosphere of 2016. That year, eight in 10 white evangelicals voted for Mr. Trump, but there was a vocal current of dissent and disappointment. In 2020 the share was similar, but with more enthusiasm given all Mr. Trump had accomplished for them.
Mr. Giatti recently produced a podcast episode criticizing the delivery of a Sikh prayer at the Republican National Convention.
“There was this real sense that the Republican Party no longer is the home for conservative Christians,” he said. “There’s a sea change, and it definitely feels deliberate.”
The scope of their communities’ core causes is also continuing to widen. In 2020, Wenyuan Wu, a researcher and recent evangelical convert, helped start the Californians for Equal Rights Foundation to fight things like race-conscious admissions and diversity, equity and inclusion programs in the wake of the state’s push for affirmative action.
Though the political climate, especially in California, seems hostile to her cause, she said, “it is possible to score small victories.” Her group sued California in 2021, ultimately resulting in the removal of Aztec and African prayers from the public school curriculum.
“People like me may be in the minority, but we believe that Christianity will stand the test of time,” she said. “It is not going to be propped up or hammered down because of an election.”
The mobilization effort is also pressing ahead. Wisconsin Family Action, a Christian advocacy group, is on track to put an insert into the Sunday bulletins of
at least 700 evangelical churches in the state, urging worshipers to vote. It is a fourfold increase from the 2022 midterms, said Daniel Degner, interim president of the group.
He said that he was “not at all concerned” about the preservation of conservative Christian values.
He thought of the biblical book of Romans. “If the Apostle Paul was able to influence government for God’s purposes and God’s designs in Rome, where they were literally killing Christians for being Christians,” he said, “I believe we can still influence government for Christian values in America today.”
Elizabeth Dias is The Times’s national religion correspondent, covering faith, politics and values. More about Elizabeth Dias
Ruth Graham is a national reporter, based in Dallas, covering religion, faith and values for The Times. More about Ruth Graham
See more on: 2024 Elections: News, Polls and Analysis, Republican Party, Donald Trump, Sam Brownback, J.D. Vance
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