Kate Penney Howard

Indiana knows how to love God and country. We display it in our houses of faith, around our homes and even on our bodies.

But history has a way of exposing what we would rather keep comfortable. And right now, we are telling ourselves a story we have told before. It did not end well.

Christian nationalism, the belief that America is fundamentally a Christian nation that must be defended, reclaimed and controlled through political power, is not new here. It is not something happening "somewhere else." It is Indiana's story.

In the 1920s, the Ku Klux Klan didn't just exist in this state; it was headquartered in Indiana. At its height, nearly a quarter of Indiana's white male population was in the Klan, 1 in 4 white Protestant men - and that's just the card-carrying members.

Fort Wayne had an active klavern, and churches were the pipeline. Pastors joined. Congregations aligned. Silence filled in the rest.

There are even handy statistics they prepared regarding what percentage of each church's membership were members.

And the Klan did not introduce itself as a hate group. It introduced itself as a Christian movement, a moral crusade to restore America. If that language sounds familiar, it should. We are hearing it again.

We like to believe we would have recognized it then, and we would have been the ones who stood up, spoke out or refused to go along. But the Klan didn't rise in spite of good, churchgoing people; it rose with them, through them, and sometimes because of them.

Our nation's founders understood something we are now actively forgetting. They had watched what happened when governments claimed divine authority, how quickly God became a justification for control, exclusion and violence, and they made a choice.

The Constitution does not mention Jesus. They used God-language carefully, not to elevate themselves, but to limit themselves.

They understood that the moment a leader claims God is on their side, accountability begins to disappear and anything can be justified.

That is where we are drifting now. We are hearing pastors and politicians say God has chosen a side.

Certain policies were once political preferences but are now divine mandates. Opposing them is seen as rebellion against God.

Jesus was offered political power. He refused it. He was invited to align with the dominant forces of his day, and he declined.

He did not build coalitions with the mighty and powerful. He did not seek control of the state. He did not tell his followers to secure power "for the sake of righteousness."

He moved toward the people the powerful had already decided did not belong. And he said plainly: "My kingdom is not of this world."

God does not need a government to do God's work.

Abraham Lincoln understood this in a way we seem unwilling to. In the middle of the Civil War, when it would have been politically convenient (profitable, even) to claim God's endorsement, he refused, saying, "Both read the same Bible and pray to the same God. ..."

He did not say God was on his side; he said the nation stood under judgment. That kind of humility seems weak now, but it kept Lincoln's faith from becoming a weapon.

Here is the part we do not want to say out loud.

The men who joined the Klan in Indiana did not think they were the villains. They thought they were the righteous ones. They believed they were protecting the nation. They believed God was on their side.

We know that is not true.

The most dangerous thing about Christian nationalism is that it feels faithful while it is happening. It wraps itself in Scripture. It speaks the language of revival. It makes opposition feel like betrayal - not of a party, but of God.

We are not the same people, but we are standing in a very similar place. There is a difference between bringing your faith into public life and baptizing your politics as divine.

The latter is idolatry.

Once faith becomes a tool for deciding who belongs and who does not, it stops being Christianity and becomes something else, something history has already named, something we have already seen, something that brandished a cross, spoke of righteousness, and believed it was saving the nation.

We do not have to wonder how this story goes. The only question left is: Will we recognize it, or will we repeat it?

The Rev. Kate Penney Howard of Columbia City is a genetic genealogist and speaker.

While the 1920s were the zenith of the Klan's power in Indiana, its ideology continues to resurface. Here, members watch a kerosene-soaked cross being raised at a Klan rally in Parke County in 1985.

Associated Press

Robed Ku Klux Klan members join riders at Fort Wayne's Interurban Terminal in 1926.

Journal Gazette archives via Special Collections, ACPLRobed Ku Klux Klan members join riders at Fort Wayne's Interurban Terminal in 1926.howard