(REVIEW) Last year, I was roaming the floor at a major Christian conference and happened upon a booth, staffed by earnest and well-meaning citizens. I was soon engaged in a friendly conversation about the state of politics in America and, specifically, evangelical involvement.

A line from my discussion partner has stayed with me since: “We must fight Christian nationalism. It’s what fueled Jan. 6 and the pews in our churches, every Sunday, are filled with its adherents.”

That isn’t the only time I’ve heard that ominous warning offered up by an earnest, well-meaning pastor, non-profit leader or Christian influencer. It’s shaped by a narrative repeated often by the press, echoed in a seemingly unlimited new genre of books and accepted as gospel even by many people of faith.

READ: The Peril Radicalizing Some Evangelicals Goes Beyond Christian Nationalism

But is it true?

This is the question that political scientist and historian Mark David Hall seeks to answer. Hall teaches in the Robertson School of Government at Regent University. Prior to that he was the Herbert Hoover Distinguished Professor of Politics at George Fox University. He’s held fellowships at Princeton University, Baylor University and George Mason University. His work on Christianity and America’s founding is highly regarded.

His latest work, “Who Is Afraid of Christian Nationalism?” (you can read an excerpt here) both defines Christian nationalism, refutes it in its purest form and interrogates the thesis that it’s a growing cancer on America’s body politic. Hall states his thesis up front: “I wrote . . . out of concern that the rhetorical excesses among the both the critics and the handful of advocates of Christian nationalism are doing profound harm to American civil discourse.”

The book begins by investigating some of the most prominent claims about both Jan. 6 and Christian nationalism. One such assertion is by sociologist Samuel Perry: “January 6th is as Christian nationalist as you can get.” Another, Andrew Siedel, made the same claim: “The Christian flag was everywhere.”

Hall, like me, both repudiates the attempt to overthrow the government on Jan. 6 and is opposed to Christian nationalism, but finds scant evidence to back up the hyperbolic claims of Perry, Siedel and others. Yes, in the masses of crowds on Jan. 6 there were some who brought Christian symbols. One symbol is one too many and a gross violation of the Third Commandment.

Still, Hall persuasively demonstrates that many of the images used to tie Jan. 6 to mainstream Christianity were images from other events. He also notes that in the 845-page report on the Jan. 6 riots, written by the January 6th committee consisting of seven Democrats and two Republicans, mentioned Christian nationalism only once. A strange omission if the two were as linked as many of the books about the event now claim. That’s not to say there weren’t any self-professed Christians at the Capitol that day and that some church-attending believers haven’t gotten caught up in the “stop the steal” hoax about the 2020 election. However, Hall is correct in refuting the central claim by many that Jan. 6 was a central feature of evangelical life.

The book is also helpful in distinguishing the political theory of Christian nationalism and the use of this term as a pejorative for any kind of conservative Christian political engagement. What’s more, Hall — drawing from his previous work on the founders and Christianity — reminds readers that American leaders have always been influenced by Christianity and have referenced Christianity in their public pronouncements. If your idea of nationalism is so expansive that it includes anyone from the football coach who gets misty-eyed when Chris Stapleton sings the National Anthem to the longstanding habit of politicians to quote Bible verses — often with cringe-worthy exegesis — you are not engaging in analysis but animus.

Hall also points out the animus and bias that often characterizes the polemics around this issue, many of which are accepted as historical scholarship. This is especially true of “Taking America Back for God,” written by Samuel Perry and Andrew Whitehead. While cited often as an objective reference for many other academic works, Hall is persuasive in pointing out the research to be fundamentally flawed. This includes histories of the political right that falsely tie folks like Francis Schaeffer and Jerry Falwell to Christian reconstructionists like Rousas John Rushdoony, when these and other leaders actually condemned the theonomist’s political theory.

But “Who Is Afraid of Christian Nationalism” isn’t all defensive. The book acknowledges the presence of a cohort of thinkers and academics who see our constitutional order as flawed and wish for a theocratic arrangement.

Yet, as research from a new study by Neighborly Faith and others have shown, the percentage of Americans who actually subscribe to true Christian nationalism is infinitesimally small. As I’ve told many before, the number of folks who adhere to this theory could fit into my minivan and leave a few seats open. You are likely to find more people who believe the moon landing was faked or that Big Foot is real.

Still, Hall engages influential works from nationalist voices like Andrew Torba and Stephen Wolfe and finds them wanting, both in substance and in outcome, pointing instead to the prudent arrangement envisioned by the founders of a nation characterized and influenced by Christianity, but which eschews establishment or empowering the government to make theological decisions. As a Baptist who believes in a free church in a free state, I found myself in agreement with the book’s political theology.

Hall’s deserved dubiousness at the hyperbolic claims of the polemics against nationalism doesn’t necessarily mean he believes all is right in the way conservatives engage politics. Like me, he’s troubled by the grifter fringe on the right that substitutes performative outrage and conspiracy for meaningful activism that actually produces beneficial policy outcomes. At the end, the author offers a helpful, if not brief, guide to political engagement. I don’t think you’ll find a Trump Bible in his library.

Still, the presence of bad political actors doesn’t mean there is a critical mass of would-be theocrats wanting to scrap the Constitutional order and usher in “The Handmaid’s Tale.” It’s important to describe movements as they are, not as we cynically wish-cast them to be. In this, “Who Is Afraid of Christian nationalism” rightly corrects some popular, but false narratives. In this, a respected scholar has done everyone a good service.

Daniel Darling is the director of The Land Center for Cultural Engagement at Southwestern Seminary and is the author of several books, including Agents of Grace and his forthcoming, In Defense of Christian Patriotism. You can follow him on X @dandarling.