On a recent Sunday at Brentwood Baptist Church in Houston, James Talarico stood at the pulpit.
A state representative in the Texas House, Talarico is a former middle school teacher, a student at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary and the Democratic nominee for U.S. Senate.
"I want to speak to you this morning, not as a candidate, but as a fellow Christian," he told the congregation. "My grandad was a Baptist preacher in south Texas. And when I was real little, he told me that Christianity is a simple religion."
But it's not easy, Talarico continued, telling the congregation that faith could provide a way of understanding the country's political turmoil.
"Sometimes we see the world most clearly through our tears. If your heart is breaking as you watch what's happening to our beloved country, it means you still have a heart," he said. "So blessed are you who weep."
It's rare for Democrats to make religion a centerpiece of their campaigns. But this midterm election cycle, a number of candidates for Congress are doing just that. At least a half-dozen candidates are ordained clergy themselves; others are studying to become ministers. They include a megachurch pastor in Dallas, a Methodist minister in Kansas and two members of the clergy in Iowa – all of whom are in competitive races.
On the campaign trail, they've been invoking biblical teachings as they make the case for policies involving health care, veterans, immigrants and economic opportunity — while trying to persuade voters in states and districts where religion remains an important part of public life.
Republicans, meanwhile, have sharply criticized Democrats' religious rhetoric. Some have called the clergy running for office PINOs: Pastors In Name Only.
"I've never seen so much blasphemy from anyone running for office," Texas Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick said of Talarico at the state Republican convention earlier this year. "And let me tell you what, I'm going to pray for that guy, because when he loses the Senate race, if he campaigns against God, as he's been doing, he's going to hell for sure."
Talarico has incorporated the attacks into his own campaign message.
"The real blasphemy is kicking the sick off their healthcare to fund tax cuts for billionaires," he told congregants at Brentwood Baptist.
Candice Stroud, who has been a member of the church for more than 40 years, said she appreciates Talarico's willingness to talk openly about Christianity.
"I think Democrats have been talking about religion for years. It's just nobody wants to listen to us if you don't say what they want to hear."
Asked whom she meant by "they," Stroud said: "The Republicans, basically. They don't want to hear that we are Christians. We go to church. We believe in the Bible."
'The most dangerous form of government'
Talarico is campaigning in a party whose voters are much less religious, on average, than Republicans. Pew Research Center's 2023-24 Religious Landscape Study found that 28% of Democrats and Democratic-leaning adults said religion was very important in their lives.
At a Democratic town hall later that afternoon, Talarico emphasized that his faith does not mean he wants religion to control government.
"My faith is central in my life," he said. "But I also know that the most dangerous form of government is theocracy. Because the only thing worse than a tyrant is a tyrant who thinks they're on a mission from God."
Talarico is a vocal opponent of Christian nationalism, a term commonly used to describe the belief that the United States is or should be a Christian nation and should promote Christianity. He has criticized the Trump administration over what he describes as the influence of the ideology.
"That is what we've seen from the Department of Defense," Talarico said. "We have seen Christian Nationalism infiltrate our Defense Department from Secretary Hegseth."
His Republican opponent, Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton, has questioned Talarico's religious identity.
"We cannot let Texas turn based on a deceiver like James Talarico, who does not want the world to know who he really is," said Paxton speaking at a campaign rally this summer.
At the Democratic town hall in Houston, nearly 700 people filled the room. Many wore T-shirts or carried signs that read "Talarico for Texas" on the front and "Love Thy Neighbor" on the back.
Among those taking in the scene was Brandon Sterling, a 40-year-old nurse practitioner.
"I would say I'm more spiritual than religious, and the only thing I do religiously is I get up. I go to work. Go to the gym," he said lightheartedly.
But Sterling said he understands why Talarico is talking about faith.
"We're here in the South. You know, a lot of people lead their political views with their religious views. So if this is the voice or if this is how you have to reach the greatest amount of people, then so be it," Sterling said. "It doesn't offend me at all."
Madison Vega, a Democratic volunteer canvassing in Houston's Montrose neighborhood, said her grandfather, like Talarico's, was a Baptist preacher. She drifted away from religion after attending college, but said Talarico's approach to Christianity resonates with her.
"Part of the reason that I've kind of lost my closeness to the church is just that I kind of heard a lot of divisive messaging from church when I was growing up," Vega said. "And I like the way he doesn't use Christianity as a weapon."
But not everyone is receptive to the combination of religion and politics.
Kristin Kott, one of the voters Vega encountered while canvassing, said her main concerns are improving schools and recovering from recent flooding in her neighborhood.
"Talking about religion as it relates to policy and things like that, I would be turned off by," she said. "I don't think religion should play into government and politics at all. I thought the country was founded on that."
An appeal across faiths
Talarico is not the only Democratic candidate using faith as part of a congressional campaign.
In Dallas, Frederick Haynes is the Democratic nominee for the U.S. House in District 30. He's led the 13,000-member Friendship-West Baptist Church for more than four decades.
Haynes says he was inspired to run after the Texas Legislature redistricted the state, eliminating one of its two predominantly Black U.S. House districts.
"I'm a Luke 4 Christian because Jesus says the spirit of the Lord is upon me because he's anointed me to preach good news to the poor," said Haynes, referring to a story in the Gospel of Luke where Jesus describes his authority to preach and teach.
"He prioritizes those who've been made poor by systems," he said. "Set the captives free. Heal those who are broken."
Similarly, Haynes sees his run for office as a way of doing the same: bringing concern for the poor and marginalized into the legislative process.
Haynes' Republican opponent, Everett Jackson, a local businessman and community leader, has attacked the pastor's religious sincerity.
"I cannot categorize him as a shepherd or a pastor," Jackson said on the conservative YouTube show Disturbing the Peace. "Because a shepherd – the good shepherd, as we're told by the Lord – they would see to the safeguarding of the sheep and lead them in the righteous path. This is not what Freddie Haynes is doing. Freddie Haynes has politicized the gospel and therefore misled his parishioners."
Haynes recently hosted an interfaith forum focused on issues such as housing, affordability and voting rights. About 50 people attended, most of them Christian church leaders from Baptist, Methodist and Pentecostal congregations, along with a large group of Muslims.
Ali Asgar Alibhai, a professor at the University of Texas at Dallas, said anti-Muslim rhetoric in Texas politics has affected his work.
"Living in Texas right now and seeing what's going on with Islamophobia right in my backyard has certainly made my job a little bit more challenging," he said. "But I'm ready for the challenge."
Alibhai said his support for Haynes' arises, in part, from relationships with Christian groups that share his progressive values and interest in social justice.
"The people that I found solidarity with," he said, "were often the faith groups here."
Haynes says that part of his run for Congress is about translating his religious calling into public life.
"I've spent my ministry on the outside," he told the interfaith forum, "fighting what is happening on the inside."
But now, he said, he sees this moment differently: "It's as if God is saying, okay, you've been called to bring the outside voices and outside vision into the House."
Clergy candidates walk a line
In Iowa, Sarah Trone Garriott combines a career in politics with ordained ministry.
The state senator is the Democratic candidate for Iowa's 3rd Congressional District. She is also an ordained Lutheran pastor, and served as an interim pastor at Grace Lutheran Church while its regular minister was away. At the pulpit on a recent summer Sunday, she preached on a passage in the Gospel of Matthew where Jesus uses a series of unusual comparisons to describe God's reign: a mustard seed, yeast, and a hidden treasure.
"The Kingdom of Heaven challenges what we have come to expect or learned to accept," she said to the congregation.
After the service, Rich Snyder, a longtime church member and retired chemist, said he is not naturally inclined to support clergy in politics.
"I'm skeptical until I get a chance to listen to their expressions of faith and how they view their calling," Snyder said. "When it becomes a calling, rather than a prescription or a bully pulpit, then I'll start to listen."
Snyder said he has liked what he hears from Trone Garriott, who describes her political calling through the Gospel of Luke.
"Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan," said Trone Garriott. "Everyone is your neighbor. Anyone who is overlooked and left behind and forgotten. That's who you were called to help. And that is the calling of government."
But Rep. Zach Nunn, her Republican opponent, has questioned her judgment by raising an incident that occurred years ago during Trone Garriott's seminary internship. As she later related in a public storytelling session, Trone Garriott's supervisor asked her to assist at a wedding for two people who said they were Satanists. Nunn said the story shows that Trone Garriott is out of touch with everyday Christians.
"She talks about the situation like it was some kind of a charming story," Nunn said on WHO NewsRadio 1040 in Iowa. "She even joked about picking Bible verses so the Satanists could feel more at home."
Trone Garriott defends her participation in the wedding, saying that she recounts the story publicly to describe the importance of the Bible.
"It's a story about the power of scripture," he said. "I believe it spoke to that couple in that moment, who seemed like the wrong people in the wrong place. And it was speaking to me."
How clergy connect on secular issues
In northeast Iowa, Lindsay James, a Presbyterian chaplain and four-term state representative, is the Democratic nominee for Iowa's 2nd Congressional District.
At the Bremer County Fair in the small town of Waverly, James talked with voters about health care.
Lindley Sharp, who works in public health, said she is concerned about the effect of federal budget cuts.
"It's going to mean less money for local public health down the line after some of their federal funds are gone," she told the candidate.
Kip Ladage, who works in emergency medical services, raised another concern.
"Look at the Medicare and Medicaid reimbursement that we get because we're getting hosed here," he explained. "If we have a $600 call, we're lucky to get $100."
For James, those issues are connected to her work as a chaplain and to her understanding of Christian morality.
She said he was inspired to run for Congress after lawmakers cut federal healthcare spending by nearly a trillion dollars. "About 27,000 Iowans were at risk of losing their health care in just Iowa's second congressional district," she said.
James said her work as a chaplain taught her what people need from leaders.
"It's about showing up for people. It's about listening without judgment. It's about offering hope. And it's about telling the truth."
'I call them PINOs'
James' Republican opponent, Joe Mitchell, has criticized James and Trone Garriott over their positions on transgender rights and their interpretation of Christianity. Both of the Democrats voted against bills in the Iowa legislature intended to limit transgender people's access to public bathrooms and participation in youth sports.
At the conservative evangelical Family Leadership Summit this summer, Mitchell said: "I call them PINOs -- Pastors in Name Only -- because they're not real pastors. They don't profess the true gospel of Jesus Christ."
Mitchell frames himself, as do the Republican opponents of Talarico, Haynes, and Trone Garriott, as following more traditional Christian teachings about gender and family.
The Democratic candidates' challenge in both Iowa and Texas is to make a case for their understanding of political service. Voters there will ultimately decide whether those convictions belong in public life.
In explaining her call to elected office, James points — as do many Democrats of faith — to the parable of the Good Samaritan.
In the Gospel of Luke, several people pass by a man who'd been attacked on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. One, a Samaritan, stops to help the injured man.
It's a familiar story, to secular and religious people alike.
James favors an interpretation of the story offered by the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.
"He talked about the road being notorious for people getting harmed and hurt," James said. "And that we had a moral obligation not just to pick up the person who's hurting, but to actually fix the road."
For these Democratic candidates, that is not just an individual calling. It's the collective work of government.
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