Even Christian leaders loudly reject Missouri’s systemic attacks on ‘outsiders’

Illustration by Theodore Rosen

“Show Me Hate” is a running series from columnist Michael McGrady Jr. exploring the widespread harm and vast cultural/political/personal pain stemming from leaders and ideologies—along with how to turn this toxic tide for the betterment of all.

Deon Johnson—bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Missouri—told me his views on the theology of scarcity and abundance within the realm of how people receive natural rights. He asks, “What do I mean by theology of scarcity? The United States was, somewhat, founded on a theology of scarcity,” the bishop adds. He explains this theoretically, referring to how some may view “the resources are only, but so much, and, if I don’t get mine, or you come and take something, I don’t get as much.”

As such, this line of reasoning most certainly resonates with our inquiry. Acts 4:33-35 of the Holy Bible notes, “With great power, the apostles bore witness to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great favor was accorded them all. There was no needy person among them, for those who owned property or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds of the sale, and put them at the feet of the apostles, and they were distributed to each according to need.”

I am not a theologian or member of the clergy. I am not even Christian. My interpretation of this provides a powerful example of a community built on abundance, trust, and social justice. This undercuts interpretations by more closed-off and conservative Christian sects who maintain that God’s love is only reserved for a select few, and this is enforced through ruling by fear and for selfish personal gain. This was due to the twelve apostles working to inspire their local communities to be inclusive and to ensure that no one was left in need, as people chose to share in a way that displays how this sharing with fellow humans is without coercion.

This wasn’t forced redistribution—It was a radical act of love rooted in faith that God had provided enough and that no one should go without. As such, this completely undermines the myth of scarcity. Instead of hoarding, they lived with open hands—and in doing so, they embodied the abundance of what they viewed as God’s kingdom. Basically, no one loses their rights if someone else is given them.

Resistance Against Public Bigotry

“What’s happening here is about more than religion—It’s about who gets to decide what’s normal, what’s right, what’s American,” D. Rashaan Gilmore says. D. Gilmore is the President, Founder, and Chief Executive Officer of BlaqOut—a charity dedicated to securing equal access to health care for Black LGBTQ+ individuals living in Kansas City and in the greater metropolitan area.

D. Gilmore adds, “Christian nationalism and old-school masculinity work hand-in-hand to keep power where it’s always been. And that’s not just some abstract idea.” As he notes, keeping power “where it’s always been” could serve as official state policy. And those policies would include efforts to purge queer people and their families from this state, or to commit a cultural genocide of Black, Latino, and other non-white communities.

A part of what D. Rashaan Gilmore represents is a life and worldview most people, including myself, will never understand or fully experience—a life of having one’s existence be an act of political resistance.

“I’ve spent my whole life in Missouri, and I’ve learned exactly what this state thinks of people like me. When you’re Black, gay, and unapologetically both, you don’t have the luxury of pretending these kinds of policies [and politics] are just ‘symbolic.’ They’re not,” D. Gilmore says.

His resistance, among many others, is a sign of hope and progress for many in Missouri’s queer community. But it still takes a toll fighting what seems to be an uphill battle, where those at the top wish to claim hegemony. D. Gilmore adds, “We’re dealing with real harm, real fear, real consequences. But we’re also building real community, real safety, real power. We’re not interested in surviving quietly. We’re here to live fully, love freely, and lead boldly—whether Missouri’s ready for that or not.”

And he isn’t alone. Organizations like BlaqOut exist throughout the state, working to carve out basic rights for the thousands of people who don’t necessarily conform or contort into the Christian nationalist mold.

These seemingly endless cases of intersectional discrimination at play here speak to grander efforts by those who are the direct beneficiaries of a legal and political system that favors Christian nationalists—straight white men. Of course, data indicates that not all individuals who self-identify as a Christian nationalist adherent or sympathizer are white. A study published in the peer-reviewed journal Frontiers in Social Psychology found racial and ethnic variations in groups that identify in some degree with the nomenclature of a Christian nationalist. People are likely to support Christian nationalism ideologies if they’re older, conservative, take the Bible literally, and attend church often. And non-evangelical faith adherents or those with no religious affiliation are less likely to support these far-right ideologies. Race and ethnicity have no clear impact on self-identification for individuals, but this does not change how most white Christian nationalists are the real beneficiaries of such an ideological self-propagation.

The Christian nationalist movement in the United States is built around a vision of  “America” that promotes white Protestant history, white grievance, and white political control. Non-white Christian nationalists might share the politicized theology or xenophobic moral panic, but they’re navigating a space fundamentally designed for white people, especially for white men. And it is also white men who are more likely to engage with far-right viewpoints about “traditional” marriage, sexuality, and gender.

Endangering People’s Lives for Ideology

It challenges the “reproductive imperative” of purity espoused by white nationalists. For the Christian nationalist variety, the reproductive imperative to make babies through “traditional” and procreational means builds upon the ideology of the former. Note that the extent and intensity of the transphobia in this state are unparalleled compared to other places, even in states that are Republican strongholds. In my first column for this investigation, I posited to you how Missouri Attorney General Andrew Bailey is responsible for “endangering the lives” of LGBTQ+ Missourians, especially transgender and gender non-conforming individuals. Bailey is staunch in his beliefs about transgender people, evidenced by his efforts to target and punish licensed medical professionals who administer gender-affirming healthcare. And with these efforts comes more policies, as I said, that otherize, ostracize, and pathologize innocents.

Jennifer Pollitt—assistant professor of gender, sexuality, and women’s studies at Temple University and a board member at the Woodhull Freedom Foundation—tells me that this is a standard for the far right.

“White male Christian nationalism weaponizes ideas about reproduction and sexuality to assert power,” Pollitt says. “Within this framework, the traditional family is narrowly and exclusively defined as heterosexual, monogamous, and reproductive. Any deviation from heterosexual, procreative marriage, whether by queer people, unmarried people, feminists, or racially diverse communities is framed as a moral failure against God’s order.” She notes that most people don’t fit such a rigid familial template.

Shira Berkowitz works for PROMO Missouri—the state’s leading LGBTQ+ civil rights group. They are PROMO’s senior director of public policy and advocacy. While in that role, Berkowitz also sits on the boards of community organizations in St. Louis that also administer to the city’s Jewish communities. One of those organizations is MaTovu—a Jewish neighborhood center that prides itself on inclusivity. Berkowitz explains how they feel Missouri has turned more belligerent in the efforts to force people into a warped societal framework similar to what Dr. Pollitt already described.

“The committees of elected leaders that I think a lot of our public goes in front of aren’t listening with sincerity or with a humanistic heart,” explains Berkowitz, referring to how they help lead PROMO’s lobbying efforts before the state legislature in Jefferson City and across the Show-Me State. “They’re listening to an interpretation of the Bible—or a version of it that fills their pockets—that tells them to identify men and women a certain way, and convinces them that their lives are somehow under threat simply because transgender or gender-nonconforming people exist.” According to data collected by the Williams Institute at the University of California, Los Angeles School of Law, 3.8 percent of Missouri’s total population is identified as members of the LGBTQ+ community. An additional data set from the institute finds that about 0.20 percent of all people in the state identified as transgender—9,500 people.

Using the subset of the less than 10,000 Missourians who identify as transgender as an example, there is an extremely disproportionate campaign against transgender and gender-nonconforming people in this state and across the country. And for Berkowitz, it is this feeling that toxic masculinity is one of the top reasons why non-traditional sexual expression scares the shit out of white Christian nationalists.

Berkowitz notes, “Fragile masculinity, men who are perceived as too feminine—All of that is framed as a threat to their interpretation of the Bible, to how they believe families should be structured, how children should be raised, and the roles men and women should play in the household. That entire toxic culture of Christian nationalism is now shaping our policy landscape. And that’s what’s truly dangerous.”

Of course, Berkowitz refers to PROMO’s ongoing efforts to provide a basic feeling of security for a population of people who don’t even make up five percent of the state’s population. All of that coincides with what Berkowitz shares with me during our conversations about this masculinity issue. “People are talking about moving all the time. It’s palpable in every conversation I have,” they add.

And through this reporting, The Pitch was able to independently confirm dozens of cases where members of the queer community have left the state for various reasons, but mainly because of the anti-LGBTQ+ fervor that is exacerbated by deep-seated far-right Christian nationalism adherence.

Leaving Home

One of the most prominent examples of an LGBTQ+ person leaving Missouri due to the state’s shift to the hard right involves a well-known comedian who played Kansas City for years. Her name is Stacy Cay. After she arrived in Kansas City some years ago, the outspoken political comic and model quickly made a name for herself as a flourishing staple in national queer counterculture. Cay also hosts The Morning Standup Podcast, which recounts current events with a comedic packaging she’s known for.

In an interview at the end of March, Cay confirmed she left the Kansas City area for a friendlier place to live that doesn’t make her feel as if she were a target for hate, political scapegoating, or violence for simply living her life. She moved to Baltimore, MD, and was unpacking her stuff at her new home as I rang her. “So, I have a master’s in computer science,” she says as she explains her move. “I was a software developer for the last 10 years. But I recently had to quit my job because they told me that I couldn’t work from home anymore. I can’t get out of it. I have a very strong resume, a very educated background, but I had to abandon it.”

Many of my more critical readers would likely ask why Cay’s leaving the company she worked for is such a big deal. It is, though, and a few LGBTQ+ people who work remotely do so to have some feeling of safety and security as they go about their daily lives. (I can’t speak for Cay or any of the other subjects in this portion of the investigation, but with sentiments of aggressive transphobia in even a city that is supposedly a bastion of progressivism in a sea of conservatism, as is the case for the Kansas City area, I felt an urgency when Cay described motivations for her relocation to the Baltimore area.)

I asked her if she felt the onslaught of anti-trans laws in Missouri was unique. Cay acknowledged the parallels between the current politics of Missouri, the U.S., and compared them to other authoritarian movements and governments abroad and throughout history. “I mean, a lot of these laws [in Missouri] that target trans people are almost written word for word from some of the laws that were passed in dictatorships,” Cay observes, alluding to the likes of Soviet dictator Josef Stalin’s government heavily censoring any and all LGBTQ+ material at the time.

A similar parallel we discussed is likely the most applicable example of Adolf Hitler and Nazi Germany persecuting queer people, especially transgender individuals. Speaking broadly, Cay simply concluded the conversation by highlighting how leadership at the state and national levels is clearly on par with right-wing dictators across the world.

Cay jokes, “Donald Trump is like Ali Khamenei (of Iran)—They share the values of authoritarianism.”

Theocratic Power Rising

While Cay’s story is her own, it isn’t unique. Nor are her views. Thousands leave their homes—They’re displaced. I posit to you, though, that people who are forced out of their homes for simply being who they are, even if it is done without direct and overt force, are essentially political refugees. And those people fleeing in search of safety do so because they are fearful of a theocratic power rising. In many ways, Cay’s comparison of Trump and Khamenei is applicable on many levels. Take it further, I think there can be parallels drawn between the religious zealotry found in Iran and right here in Missouri.

At the end of March, Missouri lawmakers sitting on the Senate Education Committee chose to advance Senate Bill (SB) 594, which requires a variation of the Ten Commandments to be displayed prominently in all school buildings and classrooms throughout the state. Proposed by state Sen. Jamie Burger, R-Benton, SB 594 is model legislation similar to a law implemented last year in Louisiana that requires the Ten Commandments to be posted in classrooms throughout that state. Sen. Rick Brattin, the chair of the committee, was particularly verbose about his support for the Burger bill. Reporting by the Columbia Missourian noted Sen. Brattin proclaiming in the March 25 hearing, “We just need to be willing to plant that flag […] that God, and the God of the Ten Commandments, is who gave us this amazing nation, and we need to be able to reflect and look at that.” Sen. Burger additionally built on the concept that violence in public schools throughout the state is due to a lack of Christian morals being taught to students. Testifying for his bill, Burger defended SB 594, where he said, “I honestly believe that when prayer went out of schools, and religion was removed from schools, that guns came in and violence came in.”

The claim that the lack of Christian faith in schools is the main cause of the rise in violence is not fully supported by empirical data, even though religiosity may be one of many factors linked to youth behavior. Effectively addressing youth violence necessitates a comprehensive strategy that takes into account the numerous social, economic, and psychological aspects involved.

Brattin, Burger, and proponents backing the bill overlook this by indicating that such legislation is to provide examples of a moral code to students in Missouri classrooms. However, it is worth noting that SB 594 is stalled, and the Missouri state legislature is set for cloture on May 16. Louisiana’s legislation that requires the Ten Commandments to be posted throughout the state was found unconstitutional by a federal district court judge in November 2024 as a very clear violation of the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment. Far-right Christian nationalists are misusing federal court rulings to push the Ten Commandments in public schools, confusing religious expression with clear state endorsements.

Rev. Brian Kaylor—a Baptist minister who additionally holds a doctorate in political communications from the University of Missouri—tells me that Ten Commandment bills like SB 594 go against his own views on religion, as is the case for scores of religious leaders throughout the state. Publisher of Word & Way, a Jefferson City-based Christian publication and newsletter, Kaylor helped organize almost 200 religious leaders to sign a joint interfaith memorandum to state lawmakers opposing the bill.

“It is highly edited, but it is primarily based on the King James translation,” Kaylor shares when responding to questions about the Ten Commandments translation drafted into Senate Bill 594. “It is copy-and-paste legislation. The Missouri lawmakers are hearing a copy-and-paste bill that’s not just like those passed in Texas and Louisiana, but like those passed in many other states,” he explains. Kaylor also mentions that the Ten Commandments listed in the Missouri bill are directly lifted from the script of the 1956 award-winning film The Ten Commandments starring Charlton Heston and Yul Brynner.

Kaylor explains, “It doesn’t list the Ten Commandments in the same way the Catholics would list them, or in the same way that Jews would list them. That’s a significant problem because these are deeply theological disagreements. And the state is essentially, if they pass this, taking sides and saying, this is what the Ten Commandments are. They’re happy to install Christianity, but to force their narrative.”

Fighting the Good Fight

Rep. Wick Thomas, D-Kansas City, tells The Pitch that proposals like Burger’s Ten Commandments bill are a disservice to the state. They explain that legislation like SB 594, or its companion in the House of Representatives, House Bill (HB) 34, is a product of lawmakers such as Burger and Brattin pushing their interpretation of the Old Testament onto students—even if the students aren’t Christian.

“Rick Brattin doesn’t know anything,” Thomas says, criticizing the chair of the Missouri Freedom Caucus as a Christian nationalist positioned toward authoritarian beliefs. They explain that people, like Brattin, are blinded by their very own ignorance and hatred.

Wick Thomas is the first openly transgender and gender-nonconforming state lawmaker in Missouri’s history. An organizer and advocate for LGBTQ+ youth, Rep. Thomas opens up about their personal life as a transition away from the Ten Commandments bill during our conversations. “I came out at 16 in rural Missouri, and promptly was kicked out, transferred schools, and got regular death threats,” they explain. “This is all I have ever known, really—being an activist. We’ve had a Republican supermajority for a long time, and, I think, when anyone isn’t doing a great job, they need a scapegoat. So it’s just easiest to separate marginalized communities, because there aren’t as many of us to be able to stick up for ourselves.”

“This rhetoric, these policies, do harm innocent people,” says Thomas. “I see LGBTQ+ kids and adults in my office every week, just trying to figure out what to do—and they’re scared. The faster we stop these attacks on queer people, minorities, immigrants, and women, the less harm these attacks will do.”

As a part of that effort, Missouri’s first equality legislative conference was created. In a text exchange at the end of March, Wick confirmed that they were approved by House leadership to form a legislative conference focused on inclusivity, intersectionality, and queer representation at the State Capitol. Thomas explains, “I have to believe Missouri is not irreparable, or else I wouldn’t want to be here. I’m here to do the work and fight for our communities, and if I thought there were no possibilities for fighting oppression, I wouldn’t have wanted to be in office so badly.”

‘Godly Men’

Countering the rise of theocratic rule and far-right Christian nationalism attracts bedfellows from all types. And in the spirit of organized and coordinated efforts against far-right political figures throughout history, I reached out to the attorney Doug Alpert, who has the final word for this column.

Alpert is the rabbi of Congregation Kol Ami in Kansas City. Rabbi Alpert proclaims, in response to our questions about his concern for the people of his congregation, that Christian nationalists are the “biggest threat to the Jewish people in the United States.” “I actually think it is a great existential threat to Jews, at least in this country right now,” says Alpert. “I think it’s a clear violation of the long-held principle of church-state separation. You’d think it would be settled by now that we were not founded as a white Christian nation, but as a nation built on religious freedom. Throughout our history, that freedom has been challenged at times. In my community, for example, antisemitism has long been a concern, especially during the 1930s. But under our Constitution, it has always been understood that this country is not based on any one religion.” Alpert speaks the truth. Refer to the words of Thomas Jefferson, who said in his famous letter to the Danbury Baptist Association that there must be a “wall of separation” maintained between the state and religion. Christian nationalism spits in the face of that sentiment. It spits in the face of pluralism, the melting pot of our country, and our viewpoint diversity.

Andrew Bailey, Rick Brattin, Jamie Burger, and other Trumpist elites are perilous men—all tiny-fisted dictators. All those men want to do is otherize, ostracize, and pathologize innocent people, such as Rep. Wick Thomas, Stacy Cay, Shira Berkowitz, D. Rashaan Gilmore, and thousands trying to live peacefully.

Bailey, Brattin, and Burger claim to be godly men—“traditional men.” Godly men do not use power to assert oppressive dominance. Nor do supposed godly men lead through discrimination and oppression. True godly men respect basic human rights, social justice, cultural diversity, and standing in solidarity.

As said, I’m not religious—I’m agnostic. But if heaven exists, I hope those three men are right with their God when their times come. They will need it.

Michael McGrady Jr., a contributing writer for The Kansas City Pitch, spent months learning how Christian nationalism in Missouri impacts state and national politics. McGrady conducted over 40 interviews with everyday people, political and psychological experts, and religious leaders, paired with deep research. His findings are in a three-part series titled “‘Show Me’ Hate.” Part three is out soon, where he discusses further religious and academic justifications to fight against Christian nationalism in Missouri.