What kind of Christian are you?

What kind of Christian are you and are you ready to answer to the Trump administration?

About two-thirds of Americans identify as Christian. If you’re one of them, ask yourself:

• What kind of Christian are you?
• Should the government decide what is “Christian enough”?
• Who gets to tell you if you’re doing it right?
• And what’s the punishment for getting it wrong?

Because religious freedom isn’t just about respecting non-Christian traditions. It’s about the freedom to worship — to practice your faith without government oversight, to follow your convictions without interference.

Every Christian should be alarmed by the creation of a presidential task force on anti-Christian bias — because in order to define bias, that task force must first define Christianity itself. What is considered Christian? Who decides? And once that definition is established, what happens to those who don’t fit?

Jesus once asked his disciples, “Who do you say I am?” (Matthew 16:15). That question has always been personal. In America, for now, it is still your question to answer.

One of my first posts here was a prayer.

And if you know me, you probably don’t even know I hold space for that. Because this part of me — the part that still wrestles with faith — hasn’t been public in a long time.

I grew up surrounded by Christianity. My dad was raised Methodist, my mom Mormon. They chose to raise their kids Pentecostal. In addition to weekly Sunday school at the local Pentecostal church, I regularly attended an Apostolic youth group and a Baptist summer camp. I had cousins in faiths ranging from Catholic to Jehovah’s Witnesses. Later, an Amish man spoke at my Mormon uncle’s funeral. As interfaith an upbringing as you could get in early 2000s rural America.

A lot changed in the American Christian’s world between 1998 and 2008.

I left the church in my 20’s which was painful for me, but my earliest memories of faith are marked fondly by Precious Moments coloring books, Noah’s Ark felt-board stories in church basements, and VeggieTales.

But my young adulthood? That was Left Behind book clubs and purity rings. I had friends who took chastity vows. Friends who believed we were living in the end times. Friends who didn’t own a TV, didn’t cut their hair, didn’t wear pants or skirts that showed their ankles. All of it set against the backdrop of Y2K, 9/11, and Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.

I didn’t meet many non-Christians, but I met enough different kinds of Christians to understand — deeply — why the First Amendment matters. Because when your faith dictates everything down to the clothes you wear, freedom of religion becomes very personal.

For Christians who care to choose their faith, studying the Bible is critical to maintaining your religious freedom.

It’s just common sense: If you’re going to be held to the words of a book, you should probably know what that book actually says.

If you have siblings, you might understand: Just because your older sister can read the note Mom left doesn’t mean it says you have to do the dishes. (👀👀 looking at you, Nancy! 😏)

As a young Christian woman, I was told who God was and what He wanted for me. But eventually, that version of God did not have room for me. So I left. And because I only knew God through the church, I thought I was leaving that connection too.

But I wanted to know the truth.

Did God find me abhorrent?

Because the Jesus I learned about in nursery rooms — the one who welcomed children and healed the sick — did not feel like the same God I was later preached about, the one who was eager to throw sinners — me — into hell.

So I studied.

And the first thing I learned?

That faith is meant to be wrestled with. That God encourages it.

Jacob wrestled with God (Genesis 32:24–28) and was blessed for it. Thomas doubted, and Jesus met him with evidence, not condemnation (John 20:27). The Bereans were called noble for questioning everything, even Paul’s teachings, and verifying them against Scripture (Acts 17:11).

Faith was never meant to be passive. A healthy church should encourage questions, not fear them. An American church should invite, not force, worship.

The Bible is a book to be studied freely, to be questioned, to be engaged with — not blindly obeyed, forced, or ignored.

I asked questions…

And got more questions.

What is the Bible? How was it compiled? Did you know, Christians haven’t even uniformly decided what a comprehensive Bible contains?

Catholics include books that most Protestant sects do not. The King James Version (KJV), one of the most influential English translations, was shaped by political motives, and even within English alone, there are hundreds of translations — each reflecting different theological and linguistic choices.

The most pressing question American Christian’s have today is: If Christians can’t even agree on what belongs in the Bible, how can a government claim authority over what it says?

I searched the Bible for where my beliefs — the ones I had been taught — were actually written.

And I found that the belief system I had been preached was misinformed. That there was plenty of room for me within a Christian framework.

The Bible is full of rules.

There are ten famous rules that people often focus on: The Ten Commandments — so much so that some states post them in public spaces like classrooms. And while they aren’t a bad set of foundational principles, they are straight from the Old Testament. Much of Christianity’s most misused doctrine is.

But here’s the thing — Christians aren’t Christians because of the Old Testament. They’re Christians because of the New Testament. You know? The long-awaited Messiah, Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, arrives on Earth.

What about His commandments?

Did you know He gave two? He gave more than two, but when asked to name the greatest commandments, Jesus Himself summed it up in two.

His first commandment:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment.” (Matthew 22:37–38)

Not to force others to love Him. For you to.

His second commandment:

“And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:39–40)

Not love your neighbor if they have a green card. Not if they speak the same language as you. No contingency. Just love.

Jesus said everything — the whole of Scripture — must be viewed through the lens of love.

And if you’re someone who prefers concrete rules? The Bible has a pretty comprehensive definition of love:

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” (1 Corinthians 13:4–8)

Honestly? That holds up.

It’s been a chart-topper for about 2,000 years now.

Study the Bible through Jesus’s top commandment.

If you’re curious about what the Bible actually says — through a lens of love, as Jesus commanded — if you want to have better conversations with Christians, if you need to heal from emotionally damaging beliefs you were told were God’s truth, if you want to be aware of those who would twist his word, if you simply want to feel closer to God — study it.

Not as a weapon, but as a wellspring of love and wisdom.

Not as a set of laws, but as one of our oldest texts — guiding generations before us in a search for spiritual growth.

Not as a way to dictate belief, but as a way to have better conversations about Christianity.