I became the lead pastor of the congregation I currently serve in 2015. Just in time for the heated republican primaries and the rise of the MAGA movement.
In those first years I was pastoring a church in Phoenix, doing my best to guide a community of Jesus-followers toward lives marked by grace, love of neighbor, and a vision of the Kingdom that stretched beyond cultural boundaries. That was the hope, at least. In practice, I often found myself navigating tensions I hadn’t been trained to handle—caught somewhere between teaching Scripture and refereeing conflicts shaped more by rage-fueled media empires and anxiety laden social media than by the Gospels.
People who I knew to be kind, loving, and compassionate were exhibiting behavior that seemed more like the works of the flesh than the fruit of the spirit. Most of the divisiveness, nasty emails and online accusations seemed to center on the growing list of “culture war” issues.
At first, I assumed it was a temporary flare-up—just another intense political cycle, or maybe a few fear-mongers stirring things up. But the longer it went on, the more I began to realize: this wasn’t a momentary disruption, it was the fruit of decades of malformed discipleship related to culture, politics and civic life.
Many of the folks I shepherded were not receiving “political discipleship” from leaders within our local church. Instead, they were being formed—daily, deeply—by media algorithms, partisan pundits, and digital prophets whose rampant proof-texting gave their political punditry a facade of godliness.
I was overwhelmed.
Seminary prepared me to interpret Greek verbs and organize sermon series. It hadn’t equipped me to walk alongside people during what often felt like a spiritual identity crisis driven by partisanship, rage and fear.
By the beginning of 2021, 80% of the congregation I pastored had left. Many choosing to attend churches that were explicitly “fighting the culture war” by leveraging fear, propagating dehumanizing speech, and advocating for their preferred candidates (some even calling them “chosen by God” to “Make America Godly Again”) from the pulpit.
Though I was exhausted, confused and overwhelmed, I was committed to “staying in the game” and doing my best to shepherd people toward Jesus.
But, I knew I could not do it alone. And so, I set out to find other evangelical pastors, scholars, and ministry leaders to share resources, encourage each other, and be equipped to minister in this season of tumult and chaos.
In 2023, a small group of pastors and ministry leaders from across the country gathered at Denver Seminary. Folks like Michael W. Austin, Aryana Petrosky, John Theilepape, David Rice, David Ritchie, Blake Kent, Austin Gravley, Napp Nazworth, and others.
Some of us were burnt out. Others were disillusioned. Many of us were simply tired of waking up to angry emails and wondering if the Evangelical Church in America is losing the plot. We started asking the question that had been simmering beneath the surface for years:
What would it look like for the Church to recover a political imagination that was shaped not by partisanship, but by the gospel?
Not one aligned with the left or the right.
Not one that hides behind a vague neutrality.
Not one that devolves into fear-mongering or violence.
But one grounded in the story of Jesus.
That conversation became the beginning of what we now call the J29 Coalition.
We drew our name from Jeremiah 29:7: “…seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile…” (Hat tip to Tim Keller)
That verse captured something essential about what we long for. We believe the Church is not called to flee the political tensions of our time, nor to be consumed by them, but to show up with faithfulness and integrity. To live in exile—not in despair or detachment—but with the kind of presence that seeks the good of the city. With courage. With tenderness. With eyes fixed on the Kingdom.
So what is J29?
At its heart, it's a growing network of theologically conservative pastors and Christian leaders committed to a kind of political discipleship that begins and ends with Jesus. We're not here to tell people who to vote for. We're here to help them imagine what it looks like to follow Christ in public—to think, speak, and act in ways that reflect the character of the Kingdom of God.
Through retreats, conferences, and digital cohorts, we’re creating space for honest conversations and thoughtful formation. We’re curating resources to help church leaders navigate political conversations without becoming pundits or passive bystanders. And we’re doing it all with deep roots in the local church.
Looking ahead, we’re launching this J29 Substack, where we’ll be sharing suggested resources, theological reflections, sermon ideas, and pastoral tools for those striving to lead faithfully in this moment.
We’re also introducing the J29 Podcast. We’ll be sitting down with pastors from across the country who are wrestling with these same challenges—sharing stories, asking hard questions, and laughing through the awkwardness that inevitably comes with this kind of work.
If you’ve ever felt like the people in your pews are more discipled by cable news than by Scripture...
If you’ve ever wondered whether neutrality in the face of injustice is really faithfulness...
If you still believe the Church can be more than a reflection of our culture’s divisions...
Then I want you to know you’re not alone.
And this is exactly why J29 exists.
For the glory of God,
— Caleb
I wonder: at what point does the Church need another Barmen Declaration, not to take sides in a culture war, not to promote the Democratic Party, but because MAGA has taken hold of large swaths of the evangelical church in a hateful, heretical, dangerous manner? Where do we draw the line? When the president defies the Supreme Court’s orders to facilitate the return of a wrongfully deported person to a foreign gulag known for human rights violations? When ICE wrongfully raid US citizens’ home in OK, taking all their phones, cash and trashing their whole house? When the government deports US citizen children with cancer with no due process or meaningful access to lawyers? At some point silence becomes complicity right? Yet I haven’t heard much from evangelical leaders besides ppl like David French (who I doubt the average person in the pew knows). What do leaders in the J29 coalition think?