The senior pastor of Cornerstone Church in Arlington, Texas, explains why he, an evangelical Christian, is voting for Democratic VP Kamala Harris for president. Despite traditionally voting based on social issues and aligning his beliefs with that of the Republican Party, he argues the GOP has strayed from its earlier stances. His change in voting decision is compelled by the character of the candidates, crediting Harris with having good character, integrity, and a record that can pass a background check. In contrast, he criticizes Trump for his moral inconsistencies, adulterous affairs, criminal convictions, race-baiting, and for not resembling the church’s values. He argues that evangelicals should move away from today’s Republican Party, which he believes no longer reflects their faith.
Read the original article here
As a pastor, my faith guides my life and decisions, but I find myself in a position that feels increasingly alien in today’s political climate. I have been vocal in my opposition to abortion and gay marriage, believing that religious convictions should shape our moral compass. Yet, as I prepare to cast my vote for Kamala Harris, I grapple with profound contradictions and the disillusionment with the party I once cherished.
The Republican Party of my past reflected values I aligned with—integrity, respect for family, and a commitment to truth. It wasn’t just about policies; it was about a shared ethical framework that informed our political discourse. Somehow, we have transitioned from that foundation to a nominee like Donald Trump, a man characterized by a propensity for dishonesty, childish behavior, and a history of personal failings that I struggle to reconcile with any notion of Christian virtue. I cannot fathom how we arrived at this place, where my party seems to prioritize power over principle, where personal character has been cast aside to make room for transactional politics.
Choosing to support Harris, whom I believe embodies a more authentic moral bravery than Trump, does not come easily. I recoil at the notion of aligning with someone whose positions on issues I do not fully endorse, yet the alternative feels worse. The gospel calls for compassion and justice, and I see those qualities reflected in her stances far more than in Trump’s chaotic leadership style. By voting for Harris, I am casting a vote not just against Trump, but against the degradation of the values we once held dear. It’s a statement that integrity matters, that leadership requires more than yelling over Twitter and spreading disinformation.
Many may view me as a hypocrite for opposing abortion and gay marriage while supporting a Democratic candidate. My faith compels me to champion certain beliefs, yet I understand that those beliefs should not infringe upon the rights of others. It’s a delicate balance; while I consider abortion a serious moral issue, I recognize that no one celebrates or takes such a decision lightly. It is healthcare, and it must remain a choice—one that should be made based on individual circumstances without judgment from those outside the situation.
Similarly, my opposition to gay marriage is rooted in my theological perspective. The lesson here is not to impose my views on others but rather to advocate for the dignity and worth of every human being. I look at my LGBTQ+ brothers and sisters with love and empathy. My stance on marriage should not negate their humanity; it is vital that I recognize and respect their rights to love whom they choose. It is this tension between personal belief and civic responsibility that spurs me to realize that my faith cannot be wielded as a weapon against others.
Looking upon the fractured Republican Party, I cannot help but feel a sense of mourning. The GOP has lost its way, warped by a culture that prioritizes loyalty over decency. I once felt at home here, believing that we could profess deep faith while pursuing a noble politics that lifted the marginalized, fostered community kindness, and sought the common good. Now, it seems that so many have settled into a comfort of hateful rhetoric and divisive policies that simply do not align with the Christian mission of love and acceptance.
I am aware that my decision to support Harris will raise eyebrows among my peers. I anticipate backlash from fellow conservatives who see my vote as a betrayal. For them, it may appear as though I am excusing the very ideologies I have long opposed in favor of political expediency. However, the truth is that my conscience cannot abide by the hypocrisy of supporting a party that once championed conservative principles but now has devolved into a spectacle of ego-driven politics.
Supporting Harris should not be seen as an endorsement of all her policies but rather as an act of defiance against the degradation of moral standards that has been ignored by the Republican Party. I do not shy away from acknowledging my shortcomings; I am a flawed individual navigating complex issues in a world that demands thoughtful engagement rather than blind allegiance.
In this turbulent time, as I prepare to vote, I hold tightly to the belief that faith, when genuinely practiced, should lead us toward compassion and justice. It can guide us toward embracing diversity, even when our personal beliefs may differ from others’. There is a painful honesty in recognizing that the GOP I loved no longer exists as I once knew it. Voting for Harris feels like a desperate, yet hopeful attempt to reclaim some semblance of the authentic moral compass I grew up respecting. I am not perfect, nor are my views, but I am committed to voting in a manner that aligns with my faith, even when it defies convention. Let us strive for a politics that heals rather than fractures—a politics that reflects our shared human dignity above all else.