When Faith Gets Hijacked: A See-Judge-Act Look at Christian Nationalism and Catholic Social Teaching
When Faith Gets Hijacked: A See-Judge-Act Look at Christian Nationalism and Catholic Social Teaching
Many Catholics today are troubled, remembering when being “pro-life” and Catholic meant caring for neighbors and inviting, not judging.
How did we get here?
How did a movement calling itself Christian come to champion exclusion over welcome, fear over mercy, and power over service? And more importantly, what are we, as people of faith, supposed to do about it?
The See-Judge-Act method provides a framework specifically designed for moments like this. Developed by Blessed Joseph Cardijn — the Belgian priest who founded the Young Christian Workers movement in the early 20th century — it has long been a cornerstone of Catholic social action. It is not a partisan tool. It is a way of thinking clearly, rooted in experience, illuminated by faith, and ordered toward justice.
I have created a six-step process using the See-Judge-Act method to help us, either as individuals or groups, bring about change, live the gospel, and understand the Encyclicals. Let us walk through the six steps, each building on the last. I will include a diagram at the end.
Step 1 — SEE: What Is Actually Happening?
The first step is the hardest for people of faith, because we are often trained to look away from conflict, to assume the best, to give the benefit of the doubt. But Cardijn insisted: start with reality. What do we actually see?
We see Christianity being fused with national identity — the idea that to be truly American, you must be Christian, and to be truly Christian, you must align with a particular political agenda.
We see some people treated as more legitimately “American” or more authentically “Christian” than others. Immigrants are portrayed as invaders. Racial minorities are framed as threats to a way of life. Religious outsiders — Muslims, Jews, non-believers — are treated as problems to be managed rather than neighbors to be welcomed.
We see fear being used as a pastoral tool. Congregations are told the country is being “taken away” from them. Children are told their faith is under siege. And people who have lived good, faithful lives are left anxious and angry rather than grounded and hopeful.
We also see the visible roadblocks: political leaders who exploit religious language for electoral gain, media ecosystems that reward outrage, and — we must be honest here — religious leaders who have sometimes been too silent or too accommodating when they should have spoken plainly.
This is what we see. We do not exaggerate it. We do not minimize it. We name it.
Step 2 — ANALYSIS: Now that we’ve seen what is happening, why is it happening—and who benefits?
Seeing clearly does not suffice. The second step delves deeper: Why? Who benefits from this? Where does the real conflict lie? And who suffers?
Christian nationalism — and let us be precise, because the term matters — is not simply patriotism or religious conviction. It is the belief that America was founded as a Christian nation and must be governed as one, with Christians holding preferential cultural and political authority. That is a theological and political claim, and it is worth examining honestly.
Who benefits? Those who stand to gain cultural dominance, political privilege, or a sense of restored status in a rapidly changing society. When people feel left behind economically, when communities that once had clear identities feel disoriented, when the world seems to be moving faster than anyone asked for — those anxieties are real, and they are exploitable. Christian nationalism exploits them by offering a simple story: we were great, we are under attack, and we must fight back.
Where is the conflict? It lies between two deeply different visions of Christianity itself. One vision sees the Church as a community of service, sacrifice, and solidarity — a “field hospital,” as Pope Francis has called it. The other sees it as a fortress, a political constituency, a vehicle for cultural power.
And who is most harmed? The most vulnerable, as always. Immigrants fleeing genuine danger. People of color live with the daily weight of suspicion. Children in mixed-faith families who hear their classmates say their parents are going to hell. The poor, whose material needs get eclipsed by culture-war priorities. These are the people Catholic social teaching insists we center. These are the people Christian nationalism most often ignores.
Step 3 — JUDGE: With that analysis in mind, what has actually worked before, and what does the Church teach?
The third step brings in new information — wisdom, models, and teaching that can help us evaluate what we are seeing and name it rightly.
Here, Catholic social teaching is not vague. It is remarkably direct.
The dignity of the human person is non-negotiable. Not the dignity of Americans. Not the dignity of Christians. Every human person, by virtue of being made in the image and likeness of God, carries inherent worth that no political movement can revoke.
The universal destination of goods — one of the Church’s oldest social principles — holds that the earth’s resources are meant for all people, not just those born in the right country or belonging to the right group.
Solidarity — a word Pope John Paul II used with great intention — means we are bound to one another across every line that divides us. It is not a feeling. It is a moral commitment.
Subsidiarity requires that we make decisions at the most local, personal level possible—which means that communities, families, and individuals hold genuine power, not just the power to vote for leaders who pledge to dominate others on their behalf.
What models have worked? History offers examples worth studying. The Civil Rights Movement, deeply rooted in Black Christian tradition, showed what happens when faith is used to expand dignity rather than restrict it. The Catholic Worker Movement, founded by Dorothy Day, demonstrated that radical hospitality and service to the poor are not idealism — they are discipleship. Base communities throughout Latin America used the See-Judge-Act method itself to help ordinary people name their suffering, connect it to the Gospel, and organize for genuine change.
These movements did not seek dominance. They sought justice. And they changed the world.
Step 4 — REFLECTION AND DISCERNMENT: Before we act, what do our values truly demand of us?
This is the most personal step, and perhaps the most important. Before we act, we are asked to go inward. What do I actually believe? What does my faith demand of me — not as a voter, not as a political ally, but as a disciple?
For those of us who have been Catholic for decades, this step may involve some uncomfortable honesty. Have we stayed quiet when we should have spoken? Have we assumed that Christian nationalism was “someone else’s problem” — something happening in evangelical megachurches, not in our parishes? Have we confused our political preferences with the demands of the Gospel?
Thomas Merton wrote: “For whatever is demanded by truth, by justice, by mercy, or by love must surely be taken to be willed by God.” That sentence is worth sitting with. Truth. Justice. Mercy. Love. These are not soft words. They are demanding words — and they do not permit the kind of exclusion that Christian nationalism celebrates. Read New Seeds of Contemplation.
What makes us uncomfortable here? Perhaps the realization that Christian nationalism has gained traction partly because mainstream Christianity — including Catholicism — has sometimes been too quiet, too institutional, too reluctant to speak plainly about power and its misuse.
Discomfort is not a signal to stop. In the Catholic tradition, it is often a signal that the Holy Spirit is at work.
This is also where we ask: How do we move from where we are to where we need to be? That transition requires honesty about our own communities, parishes, and families. It is rarely comfortable. It is always necessary.
Step 5 — ACT: Having reflected, what are we going to do?
Faith without action, as the Letter of James reminds us, is dead. The fifth step is where discernment becomes concrete.
Teach. Catholic social teaching is not well enough known among ordinary Catholics. Many people in our parishes have never heard of or read Laudato Si’, Rerum Novarum, or Fratelli Tutti. That is not their failure — it is an opportunity. Small group discussions, adult education nights, bulletin inserts, homilies that connect Sunday readings to Monday realities: these things matter, and they work.
Name it. When Christian nationalism appears — in conversation, in social media, in parish settings — name it for what it is: a distortion of the Gospel in service of power. This does not require anger or condemnation. It requires clarity. “That’s not what the Church teaches” is a complete sentence.
Build communities of encounter. Pope Francis uses that word — encounter — with great care. We cannot love what we do not know. Parishes that create genuine relationships across lines of race, class, immigration status, and ideology are doing counter-cultural and deeply Gospel work.
Speak up for the scapegoated. When vulnerable people are being blamed for complex problems, the Catholic response is not silence. It is solidarity. Write the letter. Make the call. Show up at the meeting. Bring a casserole and a conscience.
Address the skeptics with patience. Some people in our communities have been genuinely frightened by rapid cultural change. They have not embraced Christian nationalism out of malice — they have embraced it out of fear. Fear deserves a pastoral response, not contempt. We can acknowledge anxiety while still insisting that scapegoating is never a Christian answer.
Step 6 — MONITOR: After acting, how do we know if anything is changing?
Communities often skip this final step, sometimes because action feels sufficient and sometimes because measuring change is more challenging than talking about it.
But monitoring matters. It keeps us honest.
Watch your parish culture over time. Is the language around immigrants changing? Are more voices being heard? Are people who were once silent beginning to speak?
Challenge your own assumptions regularly. The See-Judge-Act method is not a one-time exercise. It is a cycle. What we see in 2025 may look different by 2027. New patterns emerge. New people are harmed. New opportunities arise. Return to Step 1 regularly and ask again: What do we see now?
Measure behavior, not just belief. It is easy to say we believe in human dignity. It is harder to track whether our parish actually volunteers at the immigration legal clinic, actually hires diversely, and actually shows up when a neighbor is threatened. Behavior is the honest measure.
Name resistance when it appears — and keep going anyway. Some people will push back. Some will accuse you of being “political.” The answer is simple: Catholic social teaching is not a political platform. It is a 130-year-old body of Church teaching rooted in Scripture, natural law, and the witness of saints. Standing on it is not politics. It is faithfulness.
A Final Word
Those of us who are older in the faith carry something that younger generations are still building: a long memory. We remember when parishes were the center of neighborhood life. We remember priests who preached against redlining and stood with farmworkers. We remember nuns who ran schools and hospitals and did not ask anyone’s political affiliation at the door. We remember what it felt like when the Church was not a partisan force — when it was simply, stubbornly, inconveniently for the poor and the stranger.
That Church still exists. It exists in every parish where the Gospel is proclaimed without fear. It exists in every family that takes in a neighbor. It exists in every old hand that shows up to a meeting, a march, or a meal for the vulnerable — not because it is trendy, but because it is true.
Christian nationalism offers a story about power.
Catholic social teaching offers a story about love.
We know which one we were baptized into.
See. Judge. Act. And keep going.
Sources and Further Reading To Help YOU Jump Start:
* Fratelli Tutti — Pope Francis (2020)
* Rerum Novarum — Pope Leo XIII (1891)
* Laudato Si’ — Pope Francis (2015)
* Joseph Cardijn, Founder of the See-Judge-Act Method and Young Christian Workers Movement
* Thomas Merton, Raids on the Unspeakable (1966)
* United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship
