Every Breakfast Is an Opportunity to Pray
How Christian Nationalism Has Distorted the Purpose of the National Prayer Breakfast an Opportunity to Pray
Once again, the National Prayer Breakfast has come and gone, and once again, we find ourselves confronting the ways in which this gathering has been hijacked by those with an agenda far removed from its original intent. What began as a simple opportunity for leaders to pray together has become a stage for conservative evangelicals to advance a vision of Christian nationalism that neither reflects the gospel nor the history of the event itself.
It’s worth remembering that the National Prayer Breakfast was not founded by the champions of a theocratic America but by mainline Protestant politicians and clergy. However, over the decades, the event gradually shifted away from its original intent as a non-partisan gathering for prayer. By the late 20th and early 21st centuries, it had become increasingly influenced by conservative evangelical leaders who sought to align faith with political power. Instead of fostering unity and spiritual reflection, it has often been used to promote a particular political agenda, prioritizing nationalism over the gospel's radical call to love and justice. Its roots stretch back to the 1930s and 40s, when Abraham Vereide, a Norwegian Methodist minister, gathered politicians and business leaders in prayer groups, seeking moral and spiritual renewal during times of economic and political turmoil. Later, with support from mainline Protestant figures like President Dwight Eisenhower and Senator Frank Carlson, the event took on a national scope. The National Prayer Breakfast was never meant to be a tool for Christian supremacy; it was meant to be a humble gathering of leaders seeking divine wisdom in their public service.
Yet today, we see a very different story unfolding. The breakfast has become a megaphone for those who seek to merge Christian identity with political power. Instead of a moment to seek God’s guidance, it has become a platform for asserting a narrow, exclusionary vision of faith—one that is more concerned with cultural dominance than with the kingdom of God. The Jesus who refused an earthly throne, who dined with sinners, and who told Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world,” is now invoked to justify nationalism and partisan agendas.
Christian nationalism is not merely bad theology; it is idolatry. Scripture repeatedly warns against conflating faith with worldly power. When Satan tempts Jesus in the wilderness, he offers him all the kingdoms of the world in exchange for worship (Matthew 4:8-10)—a temptation Jesus firmly rejects. Likewise, the early church thrived not by seeking political dominance but through humble witness, self-sacrifice, and care for the marginalized. When faith is wielded as a weapon of political control rather than a call to servanthood, it ceases to reflect the gospel. It twists the gospel into a tool of power and control, replacing Christ’s call to love our neighbors with a mandate to rule over them. It trades the cross for a flag and the Beatitudes for campaign slogans.
At the National Prayer Breakfast, the American flag often takes center stage, while the cross—the defining symbol of the Christian faith—fades into the background. The event is draped in patriotic imagery, subtly reinforcing the dangerous idea that devotion to God and allegiance to the nation are one and the same. This is a reminder that Christian Nationalism is not focused on Christ but rather on political power. Responding to the ways Christian Nationalism attempts to replace the cross of Christ with the flag, Pastor Brian Zahnd said, “Jesus deserves a better Christianity than this.”
But Jesus did not call his followers to pledge loyalty to an empire; he called them to take up their cross and follow him. The earliest Christians understood this well, refusing to bend their faith to the demands of Rome. Yet today, many have replaced the humility of Christ with the triumphalism of nationalism, mistaking political dominance for discipleship. A prayer breakfast that elevates the symbols of earthly power over the cross of Christ has lost sight of the gospel's radical call to love, justice, and self-sacrifice. It is an ideology that demands allegiance to nation above the radical, boundary-breaking love of Jesus Christ. And when the National Prayer Breakfast becomes a rallying cry for this distorted vision, it ceases to be a prayer breakfast at all.
President Trump’s recent remarks at the National Prayer Breakfast—claiming that we “can’t be happy without religion” and that we must “bring God back into our lives”—miss the point entirely. It is the height of hypocrisy for a leader to stand at a prayer breakfast and speak of bringing God back into our lives mere days after cutting funding for humanitarian aid and supporting policies that contribute to suffering and displacement, particularly in Gaza. If we are to take Jesus seriously, then our faith should be measured not by grand proclamations but by our actions toward the most vulnerable. One cannot preach about faith while ignoring the cries of the oppressed.

Bring God back into our lives? God never left. God does not abandon us, nor does God need to be ushered back into our lives by political decree from someone who has made a mockery of faith. Such rhetoric assumes that God’s presence is dictated by human action, when in reality, the divine presence has always been with us. Instead of assuming that faith is something to be restored by government officials, we should be reminding ourselves that the Kingdom of God is already at work in the world, not through power and prestige, but through humility, service, and love.
But here’s the thing: every breakfast is an opportunity to pray. You don’t need a ballroom full of politicians or a keynote speaker with a political agenda to pray for your nation. You don’t need a live-streamed event with carefully curated messages. All you need is a heart turned toward God. The truth is, the most faithful prayers for this country are not the ones spoken into microphones at grand events but the ones whispered in kitchens over a bowl of cereal, uttered around diner tables, or spoken in sanctuaries where no cameras are present.
If the National Prayer Breakfast has been co-opted, then fine—let them have it. Because the real work of prayer doesn’t require their stage. The God who hears the prayers of the humble and contrite is just as present in the morning quiet of our homes, in the pews of small churches, and in the hearts of those who seek justice and mercy. We don’t need a politically charged prayer breakfast to tell us what the gospel already makes clear: that Christ’s kingdom is not of this world, and our highest calling is not to seize power but to serve in love.
Jesus himself warned against practicing our piety before others in order to be seen by them. In the Sermon on the Mount, he cautions, 'Beware of practicing your righteousness before others to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father in heaven' (Matthew 6:1). He instructs his followers to pray in private rather than making a show of their devotion. The Pharisee in Luke 18:9-14, who publicly boasts of his righteousness, is contrasted with the humble tax collector who prays in quiet sincerity—illustrating that true faith is not about public performance but about a heart turned toward God. He cautioned against the public displays of righteousness that serve more to elevate the individual than to glorify God.
True prayer, Jesus tells us, happens in the quiet places, in the secrecy of a heart turned toward God, rather than in ostentatious performances in Statuary Hall designed to impress an audience or political base. If anything, the grand spectacle of the National Prayer Breakfast serves as a reminder of how easy it is to confuse political theater with genuine faith.
This is so well written Teer! Thanks for sharing. Been thinking about these very things as we contemplated the UMC policy on what to do if/when ICE comes to the food pantry😢😕. Sharing this with Larry❤️
Thank you for speaking up. I appreciate it so very much