What The Episcopal Church can learn from the Trump campaign: a view from across the Atlantic

... ye can discern the face of the sky; but can ye not discern the signs of the times? 

Matthew 16:3

For the most part, the Church of England has reacted to the election of Donald Trump and the UK’s vote to leave the EU (the “Trump-Brexit phenomenon”) by jumping on to the middle-class Establishment bandwagon of outrage and horror. As if set to auto-pilot, the C of E has joined in with those who are decrying the collapse of the liberal consensus and bemoaning a new mood of division in our public life.

Bishop Philip North, writing in the Church Times, 1st December 2016

It has, rather predictably, happened again. Anglicans on this side of the Atlantic have interpreted Trump's presidential election victory in apocalyptic terms: the wailing and gnashing of teeth by Anglican clergy on social media has been loud. We might not have been surprised if some had asked for the post-election counselling offered to Guardian staff.

This post is not primarily addressed to US readers. Between the anti-Bush 2004 letter-writing campaign of Guardian readers and the 2024 work of Labour staffers, we have more than enough evidence of the consequences of those of us in the United Kingdom lecturing Americans on their political order and party allegiances. (As an old-fashioned British conservative, I will - of course - remind our American cousins that this works both ways: having left us in 1783, we do not require direction from you on the government of this realm, thank you.)

The purpose of this post is to offer an alternative to the hysterical Anglican responses on this side of the Atlantic to Trump's victory.  In considering how TEC could learn from the Trump campaign, my interest is in how the lazy progressive consensus within public Anglicanism on this side of the Atlantic might be constructively critiqued. All that said, if a few Episcopalian readers find something of value in these reflections from a fellow Anglican, so much the better. 

Perhaps it is a necessary precursor to say that I am no fan of Trump, a deeply flawed character and political actor, entirely lacking a conservative reverence for constitutional order. I would identify with and have an affection for an older form of Republicanism, the GOP of Ford and Bush 1: terribly outdated, I know, but conservatism is as at least as much about character and response to electoral defeats as it is about electoral victories. This post is also addressing aspects of the appeal of the Trump campaign, not how his administration will govern - apparent evidence of which is being provided by the frightening clown show that is now unfolding in terms of some cabinet appointments.

It is also the case that I am not - to state what should be obvious to those who read this blog - an ally of the UK's online culture warriors who look to Trump to lead a 'crusade' to 'save the West'. The psalmist's exhortation "put not your trust in princes" strikes me as reflected in the wise and prudent commitment of a traditional conservatism to limited politics and modest political goals.

Why, then, consider Trump's victory from an Anglican perspective? Part of discerning the signs of the times is understanding how contemporary political and cultural movements gain significant popular support, exploring why they resonate with the contemporary culture in which the churches minister and witness.

What, therefore, could TEC - and, by implication, Anglicans on this side of the Atlantic - learn from the Trump campaign?

To begin with, we should note that the Trump electoral coalition is radically more diverse than the 'Episcopal branch of the Jesus Movement', both in terms of ethnic background and socio-economic class. 46% of Hispanic voters supported Trump, with two-thirds of Hispanic Protestants doing so. 21% of African-American men voted for Trump, a figure which becomes 3 in 10 of African-American men under 45. By contrast, according to Pew Research, a mere 4% of the small Episcopalian population are African-Americans and 2% are Hispanic. TEC is one of the least diverse churches in the United States The numbers of African-American men and Hispanics supporting Trump vastly dwarf the numbers of African-American and Hispanic Episcopalians. 

If a college education is understood to be a signifier of socio-economic class, 56% of voters without a college degree voted for Trump: 56% of Episcopalians have a college degree. 50% of voters with an income less than $50k voted for Trump. While it is not an exact equivalent, 69% of Episcopalian households have an income of more than $50k (and that is before we address the issue of individual and family assets). The GOP is now hailed as the party of a racially diverse working class coalition: the ecclesiastical equivalent of this description is highly unlikely to be applied to TEC.

None of this is said in any way to demean TEC. The relationship between churches of various traditions and ethnic background and socio-economic class is complex, rooted in historical experience, and rarely straightforward. Different ecclesiastical traditions will, quite naturally, appeal to different social and cultural traditions. Episcopalianism was never going to be a mass movement in the American Republic and, obviously, should not even contemplate any such nonsensical utopian notions. In this, US Episcopalianism is not entirely unlike Irish, Welsh, and Canadian Anglicanism.

A recognition of Trump's success amongst African-American men, Hispanics, and working class voters should, however, give TEC humility and pause for thought. If, as one assumes is the case, TEC wants to have a greater number of members who are African-American and Hispanic, and a greater number who are working class, it might be the case that it should recognise the social and cultural concerns of the significant proportions of such voters who supported Trump.

Moving from ethnic identity and socio-economic class, we can also consider geography. 63% of voters in rural areas and small towns supported Trump. In the words of one commentator on the politics of rural communities in the US, the "Democratic Party brand has become just, simply put, toxic in rural America". As an analysis of the Democrats' 'rural problem' has stated:

Democratic weakness in rural America may be explained by another blind spot. Many of the party’s members have become allergic to talking about faith, family, and flag - core principles that bear intense meaning for the electorate, yet ones that seem to embarrass Democrats or make them feel awkward, even when their policies can be easily explained through the filter of these values.

Now consider words from a thoughtful, insightful Covenant article - 'The Episcopal Church must be made stronger in the Hinterland' - by a TEC priest serving rural churches:

Most country people I know admire our presiding bishop and welcome all sorts of strangers. Small towns and rural areas are no less human than metropolitan areas. While many of the people with whom I worship on most Sundays are concerned that TEC has become the Democratic Party at prayer, they are not going anywhere and really are committed to the idea that in Christ Jesus there is a unity of truth.

A perception in rural American communities that TEC is "the Democratic Party at prayer" is, to say the least, not aided by a significant strain of ideologically progressive opinion within TEC hostile to flag, patriotism, and service in the armed forces. Bishop North rightly identified a similar tendency within the Church of England:

All too often, middle-class clergy squirm nervously during Remem­brance Sunday, and excise any hymns that hint of nationalism. But surely an Established Church has a part to play in finding a new and unifying national narrative that is patriotic, besides tolerant and in­­clusive. We have a lot to learn from our extraordinary armed-forces chap­­­­­­lains, whose work is too often forgotten by the wider Church.

Such a mindset, of course, is a rejection of a long history of Anglican and Episcopalian civic ministry and presence: affirming the goodness of patriotism, honouring the national flag (as seen in many of our churches), and recognising the nobility of military service (evidenced by the memorials to the Fallen in many churches, as in the example pictured). Recovering and appreciating such an approach to civic ministry - deeply embedded as it is in Anglican notions of place, pastoral presence, and duty to our neighbours - would, we might suggest, aid TEC in growing a presence in rural communities.

In all of this, of course, TEC would not be approaching an entirely alien understanding of politics and culture.  Republican voters and cultural conservatives are not a foreign entity for TEC. While I have yet to see relevant data for the 2024 presidential election, we do know that 32% of Episcopalians voted for Trump in 2020. Mindful that 58% of white Mainliners were, according to pre-election polls, predicted to vote for Trump, it is highly unlikely that that the 2020 figure decreased on 5th November. This broadly reflects the Pew Research data on the political ideology of TEC members: 31% conservative, 37% moderate, 29% liberal. It is also worth noting that in 2016 approximately 20% of Virginia Theological Seminary voted for Trump: this would suggest a not insignificant minority of TEC clergy who vote GOP. 

With 1 in 3 Episcopalians voting Trump, supporting the GOP, and self-describing as political conservatives, TEC does not exactly have to engage in a vast effort of outreach to encounter those who adhere to political and cultural views outside the progressive assumptions which dominate the public policy discourse of TEC's institutional centre. Respecting, listening to, and engaging with the political and cultural concerns of a very significant proportion of Episcopalians in the pews who voted for Trump would be a start if TEC has a meaningful commitment to be present within and minister to communities outside metropolitan areas and Blue States. 

Cherishing such political diversity - rather than lamenting it and aspiring to be the church of progressives at prayer - is necessary for any church that seriously desires to nurture and cherish local churches, proclaiming the Gospel, in culturally conservative communities and regions. Likewise, progressive political opinion in TEC is also necessary, enabling presence and ministry in communities and regions which are predominantly liberal. And, of course, despite the delusions of both Republican and Democratic advisers in recent decades, there is no such thing as a 'permanent majority' for either party. This being so, it aids and serves the mission and presence of TEC to be a politically diverse church.

Any suggestion that Episcopalian political diversity compromises TEC's 'prophetic' stance is, quite frankly, not to be taken seriously. To state what should be startlingly obvious, bland liberal Mainline support for progressive Democrats is not identical with 'prophetic'. As Ben Crosby has said:

The mainline, too, displays a willingness to replace the content of the gospel with a political program. It happens to be a political program I find more congenial than that of shofar-blowing insurrectionists, but social democracy or antiracism (as worthy as they may be) simply are not the gospel. And indeed, the mainline has the dubious distinction of having leaders who in the name of relevance explicitly recenter the Christian faith away from the confession of the God-man Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection toward wholly this-worldly political goals.

TEC does not have any such public 'prophetic' stance in American society: it is too routinely and obviously partisan to be regarded in any way as 'prophetic'. Edgy liturgies and progressive General Conventions resolutions are not 'prophetic': they are progressive Episcopalians talking to other progressive Episcopalians, 

Many of the responses made by TEC leaders to the outcome of the 2024 presidential election do not provide much - if any - indication that TEC is willing to heed the Trump campaign's victory and, with humility and discernment, examine where and how TEC has failed to respect, listen, and engage with politically and culturally conservative regions and communities. It is, of course, safer and more comfortable to withdraw to the metropolitan areas and Blue States (although admittedly this is a rather odd approach for a church that talks loudly about its 'prophetic' vocation). 

Those of us on this side of the Atlantic who are friends of TEC and who value its presence in the Great Republic should be hoping for Episcopalians to seriously and meaningfully commit to being present in and ministering to all regions of the United States, and that necessarily includes those regions which went solidly Red on 5th November. As within TEC itself, however, it is much easier for a certain type of Anglican in these Islands to publish anti-Trump messages on social media (read by other progressives), make meaningless anti-Trump statements in sermons, share Guardian laments on the election outcome on Bluesky, and urge on an Episcopalian progressive opposition to Trump and his deplorable supporters.

The irony is that such self-proclaimed friends of TEC are wishing for a decreasing, retreating Episcopalian presence in the United States, an Episcopalianism unknown to and separated from a vast swathe of American communities.