When making small talk with a new face at a social gathering, once the banal topics of present happenings die out—what unpredictable weather we are having, the logistics of our travel itineraries, rote descriptions of the drink in our hands—and it becomes unreasonable to maintain such proximity with our torsos parallel without gleaning a single meaningful insight about the person before us, I can almost feel it coming—the inevitable question: “What do you do for work?”
I shift uncomfortably in my stance, raise my glass to my face, swig, and offer a pronounced “mmm” accompanied by a nod, buying a few too-short seconds as I drop my gaze to the floor while strategizing my answer.
The Question Everyone Asks: “What Do You Do for Work?
I’m undoubtedly proud of the work I do for Interfaith America, a national nonprofit leveraging America’s religious diversity to serve the common good. Still, it’s a lot harder for strangers to picture a typical day in my life than a nurse or sanitation worker. Keeping it simple and honest, I say I manage a grant program to help faith communities get involved in the election in nonpartisan ways through a program called Faith in Elections. I often get one of two nearly opposite reactions: “Wait… don’t we want less religion in politics?” or “That’s great work! It feels like our (Christian) faith is being pushed out.”
Either disconnect presents an interesting starting point for lively discourse. However, I’ve learned the hard way that the weightiness of an impromptu discussion blending religion and politics without established relational trust tends to tear right through the surface level of most social interactions, plummeting to the uncharted depths of conversation where two personalities, worldviews, and life stories perform a delicate dance, their motives unknown to one another.
I sometimes attempt it anyway, bravely. Results vary.
The Media’s Role in Shaping Religion’s Public Image
My internal reaction is always the same: “How do they not know that faith communities across the country see elections as a chance to model their service ethic and put into action their belief in the inherent dignity of their neighbors—even those who vote differently?” But then I remember—the average media consumer isn’t being fed stories of multi-faith pro-democracy coalitions or local interfaith bridge-building events that seek to humanize political adversaries. Instead, they’re seeing headlines about lawsuits over biblical commandments in schools or watching Netflix exposés about shadowy religious conspiracies on Capitol Hill.
When religion intersects with politics in mainstream media or entertainment, it’s usually portrayed as divisive or ominous. We get narratives heavy on chaos, light on cooperation. The perception sticks because conflict sells, and complexity doesn’t.
It’s true that faith communities, especially their leaders, have contributed to the mistrust surrounding religion’s role in public life. But by paying closer attention, I’ve also seen many make concerted efforts to counteract that narrative.
There are quieter stories of faith-driven leaders working to ensure elections are free, fair, and safe—strengthening community bonds along the way. They each have strong beliefs about who should be president but are simultaneously committed to the hard work of protecting the democratic institutions that safeguard our First Amendment rights. These stories may not drive as many clicks, but are worth more attention than they’re getting.
Bridging Political Divides with Faith
The following changemakers were pivotal partners in Interfaith America and Protect Democracy’s Faith in Elections Playbook initiative–an online resource built to help faith communities foster nonpartisan civic engagement:
Once aligned with neo-Nazi ideology, Caleb Campbell transformed his life and became a minister dedicated to reaching Christian Nationalists with empathy and love. This past summer, he led congregants skeptical of election results on tours of Maricopa County’s election center to replace distrust with transparency. He is proof that faith leaders can be bridges to healthier engagement in our elections, not just spiritual mentors.
Bursting with sincerity, Patricia Ruiz Cantu, a community leader and Mexican immigrant in Milwaukee visits Latino evangelical churches across Wisconsin, hosting Civics 101 workshops. For those who attended, her approach to voting as an act of spiritual concern was more effective against electoral disillusionment than any campaign ad this cycle.
Serving Democracy, Not Just Sermons
Faith leaders are persuasive with their own communities, but it’s often the unexpected partnerships across faith lines that drive the most impactful change. Shariq Ghani, a nonprofit executive in Houston and a Muslim leader, noticed Harris County had persistently low voter turnout caused, in part, by a shortage of polling locations. Recognizing the power of unlikely coalitions that transcend self-interest, he partnered with local evangelical churches to advocate for the use of church facilities as polling sites in future elections.
These grassroots efforts have found powerful echoes at the highest levels of leadership. This past fall, Maryland Governor Wes Moore and Utah Governor Spencer Cox came together, crossing both party and faith lines to endorse the Faith in Elections Playbook’s core message: people of faith have a vital role in fostering trust in our election results and demonstrating civility. Messengers matter—by endorsing the Faith in Elections Playbook, the governors highlighted the importance of inviting communities to participate, not merely criticize from the sidelines.
Reframing the Faith Narrative
The stories fueling negative perceptions likely won’t slow down anytime soon, especially with a new administration shifting rhetoric around America’s religious identity. But I hope more people hear stories like Caleb’s, Patricia’s, and Shariq’s—or about the time two governors set aside political differences to champion trusted elections—even if it’s just one conversation at a time with someone brave enough to engage with the two thorniest topics at once.
If I’m lucky enough to get to the point in the delicate dance where my conversation partner hears the more inspiring side of the story, I can expect a shift—a quiet acknowledgment that America and our expansive religious diversity may have more to offer in our future than the divisions we’re accustomed to. Maybe exemplary faith engagement isn’t just a piece of a healthy democracy—it could be the key.
But first—how was traffic on your way in? It’s freezing out tonight, but I hear it will warm up next week. What is it that you do for work?