In 2025, evangelicalism’s support of Trump seems all but assumed, but a decade ago, it was shocking. I could hardly believe that the moral exemplars of my spiritual community would cast their lot with a leader whose personal cruelty was matched only by his base vulgarity.
At the time, many evangelicals assured me that they did not personally care for Donald Trump, but America wasn’t electing a pastor, and his policies would help the economy and advance socially conservative policies. Political victory over progressives required the necessary concession of appointing a “strong man” who would do the bidding of evangelicals.
But as Jesus said, “Where your treasure is there your heart will be also.” Have we so treasured political gain that it has stolen our hearts?
In 2016, evangelicals “held their nose” and voted for Trump. In 2024, many of those same evangelicals breathed deeply. They have consistently celebrated his policies, many of which are at odds with the Christian virtue of caring for the least of these.
And to justify abandoning empathy, some evangelicals have actually begun to argue that seeing the pain of others, grieving it, and working to alleviate it is indeed a vice.
All of this is a serious departure from what we used to call a person who was devoid of all empathy: a psychopath.
The Scandal of Evangelical Empathy
Historian Mark Noll once wrote, “The scandal of the evangelical mind is that there is not much of an evangelical mind.” The sad truth is that in 2025, the same can be said of evangelical empathy.
Stepping aside from all the parsing of etymology and narrow defining of terms, what is at issue is Christian concern for others—compassion for the vulnerable, the impoverished, the marginalized. A self-sacrificial love for “the least of these” has been a hallmark of Christianity since the days of Jesus Christ himself.
Love of neighbor and love of enemy are central Christian tenets—regardless of whether they are politically expedient. Christian empathy might seem naïve. It might seem weak or misguided. But it is at the very heart of the good news of Jesus.
“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin,” writes the author of Hebrews. “Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”
It’s difficult to comprehend the extent of personal indignity Jesus must have experienced through the incarnation. The infinite Creator of the universe subjected himself to the limitations of being a human in a broken world. He got tired. He got hungry. I’m sure he got sick a time or two. When he taught, he was almost always misunderstood. Worse yet, he was misrepresented.
Jesus endured a wrongful conviction, public humiliation, brutal torture, and a painful death. He never fought back. He never cursed his oppressors. He prayed for those who spat on him, empathizing with their ignorance of who he was. He experienced the worst that humanity had to offer so that through his resurrection, his people might experience life as he always intended.
All this Jesus did willingly. Parse the words however you want, but that is empathy epitomized. Again, I must stress that this is a central tenet of the Christian faith.
That is why the early Christians ran to care for the sick when everyone else ran away for fear of infection. It is why, at great personal cost, they took on the care of infants that had been left to die. It is why they cared for all those in physical need, regardless of their race or creed. It is why they preached the gospel of grace to people who would burn them alive or feed them to wild animals.
None of this they did because they were naïve or weak or woke. They did it because of the example that was set by the God who came to empathize with their weaknesses so that they could learn his strength.
Go and do likewise.
