Are we living in a post-Christian world?

June 29, 2015

WRITER

Immediately after the Supreme Court ruling on gay marriage, supporters took to social media to not only celebrate their victory, but to also trash anyone who believes in traditional marriage. It seems that if #LoveWins, then anyone who doesn’t support same-sex marriage implicitly loses - especially Christians. Time Magazine even printed an article about America transforming into a post-Christian nation. The fight over gay marriage was never about who you sleep with and everything to do with the right of conscience.

Below is a rush transcript of this segment, it may contain errors:

GLENN: I don't know about you, but I spent some time this weekend with my family. And spent some time myself in quiet reflection trying to figure out truth and tolerance. What is -- where do we go from here? TIME Magazine said this weekend that we now live in a post Christian America. They went so far as to say, Christians now find themselves as exiles in their own land.

Those are some pretty intense statements. This has nothing to do with who you sleep with. Because I don't care who you sleep with. Do you care who I sleep with, honestly? Do you want to know about my sexual habits? Because I barely want to know about my sexual habits.

This has nothing to do with who you sleep with. This has everything to do with the right of conscience.

One ruling puts us into a post Christian world? Yes. Because the president has signed some executive -- some executive orders that now put us into a situation to where, if you receive any federal money, any federal grant, you happen to be Liberty University, you're going to lose that money, unless you now accept and you preach what the Supreme Court preaches. Right of conscience. Truth and tolerance.

I think that we have to -- we have to regather now, and we have to -- the world has changed. I told you at one point, you won't recognize your own country. We are here. You are now on the outside looking in. And, again, it has nothing to do with who you sleep with.

It has everything to do with your right to say what you believe. See, we're picking and choosing now. They're talking about banning the statue and taking down the statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest. I completely agree with that. That guy was -- he was a great general, but he also was the founder of the KKK. Should we have that? No. But if you're going to take that down, we also should not have any statue -- or, we certainly shouldn't have a school of foreign policy named after Woodrow Wilson.

See, we're getting into a real problem here because somebody has got to tell us exactly what's right and what's wrong. Well, who is that someone?

We used to believe in absolute truth. I still do. I want to say that again. I believe in absolute truth. I believe there is the existence of absolute truth and right and wrong as established by God's commandments. Now, that may make me an exile in my own land, so be it, that's okay.

I believe in all truth. No sect, no denomination, no single principle of truth is out there that I don't accept or will reject. I accept the existence of truth, and I'm willing to receive all truth from whatever source that truth may come from. Because the truth will stand and will endure.

We don't even recognize truth anymore. We ask, well, whose truth? What is truth? Truth is the acknowledgment of things as they are, as they were, and as they will be in the future. Truth doesn't change.

Truth exists and so does evil. There are some things that are simply, seriously an everlasting evil, period. Things that I can tell you that you know are wrong. Mixing sex with death. You know that's wrong. It just feels wrong. It's evil.

People are now telling us that there is no absolute right and wrong. And that all authority and all rules of behavior are all man-made choices that can prevail over the commandments of God. That everything is a man-made choice. And that's why we can't decide which cakes we can make and which cakes we can't make. That's why we're down to micromanaging cakes!

People are questioning whether there is a God. Faith is on the retreat. The philosophy of moral relativism, which holds that every person is free to choose for himself what is right and wrong. I believe that you have the choice between right and wrong, and you are the only one that can make it.

But that you can make up your own right and wrong, I disagree with. It's absurd. It's why we are caught up in -- in our self-serving pleasures, in the things that we just want to do. If it feels good, I'm going to do it. It's why you could walk down the street with your children and nobody watches their language anymore. You can be anywhere, and nobody -- you want to say to them, hey, can you stop for a second? Don't you see I have my child here? And what do they say, you don't like it, go someplace else. Because they will not recognize the difference between right and wrong.

There was a study done in about 1995 that showed -- or, sorry -- 79 percent of Americans believed that there were, quote, clear guidelines about what was good and what was evil that applied to everyone, regardless of the situation. This is 1995. Think about what was happening in America. We thought the world was coming to an end then. 1995. 79 percent said that the rules apply to everyone, regardless of the situation.

There's a new college -- new poll out of college seniors. 75 percent of them now believe the difference between right and wrong is relative and up to the individual. That's 20 years. It's why we are lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God.

Gang, the world has changed. We are now at the beginning of the place that I said that we would eventually find ourselves. Greece is on fire today. The banks are closed for up to ten days. Nobody knows what's going to happen.

#LoveWins was the big hashtag. But did you read anything online? Love lost. Why?

Because winning -- winning was the goal, not reconciliation. Winning. Which implies there's a winner. And everybody who won wanted to rub the nose of anybody who lost. Anybody who lost was seeking vengeance and revenge. Love didn't win. A political action committee won.

We have a duty to stand at this time. Do you know what tolerance is defined as? Tolerance is defined as a friendly and fair attitude toward unfamiliar opinions and practices or towards persons who hold or practice those things.

What is that 1955 when we were all reading National Geographic? When that was the only way we could see things that were unfamiliar -- what is unfamiliar to us now? We live in a global community. We are so diverse now in our thinking. We can see and talk to people on the other side of the planet.

We are diverse. And it has enriched our lives, but it has also complicated them.

When does tolerance apply? This is really a hard question for those people who say there is a God and there is absolute truth. It's a really tough question for those people. Because the weaker your belief in God, the fewer things that you believe are absolutes. The fewer occasions when something happens to you that you're like, hey, hey, hey, hey.

An atheist doesn't need to decide what kind and occasions profanity or blasphemy can be tolerated and what kinds should be confronted. An atheist never has to stand up and say, hey, that's kind of blasphemous. Persons who don't believe in God or absolute truth in moral matters can see themselves as the most tolerant people alive. But those of us who say there is a right and wrong, there is a moral standard, well, wait a minute. Hang on just a second. I got to stand up. I know I'm not as tolerant as you because you have no standards. I do. That doesn't make me right and you wrong, it just says, these are the things that I believe in. And I have to stand. I'm compelled to stand.

But we have to -- there are few things that are absolutely true, that God teaches us, that are true. And the first thing he teaches us is that we are all brothers and sisters. We're all taught this in our various religions, and we're all taught that we have to serve one another.

We might disagree or have different interpretations of Him. But we are all sons of God. Therefore we have to work harder to build mutual respect. We have to respect one another. We have to do what Paul taught us. Follow after those things that make for peace. We don't bash each other.

I had a discussion before we went on the air. I don't know how to do my job anymore. None of us do. There are things that we cannot say anymore if we want to work tomorrow. There are also this lie, I think, that talk radio is built on confrontation. I'm -- I don't want confrontation. I don't want any more confrontation. I'm tired of confrontation. I'm tired of the hatred between each other. That's not who we are. That's not who I want to be. That's not who I've ever tried to be. None of us have. But that's the role that we're put into. That's what the world makes us, and we help it along. I'm tired of it.

We have to respect one another. But more importantly, we have to respect ourselves. We cannot abandon the truth. There is no middle ground on truth. We have to stand up for the truth, even while we practice tolerance and respect for beliefs and ideas that are different than ours and for the people that hold those ideas. We must practice tolerance and respect for others and their beliefs, including their constitutional right to state them openly.

But first and foremost, we're losing our kids, man. We're losing our kids because we don't practice what we preach. First, the one thing we should not tolerate is a deviance from truth in our own lives. We must be ruled by the demands of truth. We must be strong in keeping the commandments ourselves.

Forget about everybody else. How are you today? How am I today? What other people is not nearly as important in the grand scheme of things for our family as what we're doing today. What our children are witnessing us do today. We must be the ones that stand for the right, even if we stand alone.

What our response to Israel reveals about us

JOSEPH PREZIOSO / Contributor | Getty Images

I have been honored to receive the Defender of Israel Award from Prime Minister Netanyahu.

The Jerusalem Post recently named me one of the strongest Christian voices in support of Israel.

And yet, my support is not blind loyalty. It’s not a rubber stamp for any government or policy. I support Israel because I believe it is my duty — first as a Christian, but even if I weren’t a believer, I would still support her as a man of reason, morality, and common sense.

Because faith isn’t required to understand this: Israel’s existence is not just about one nation’s survival — it is about the survival of Western civilization itself.

It is a lone beacon of shared values in the Middle East. It is a bulwark standing against radical Islam — the same evil that seeks to dismantle our own nation from within.

And my support is not rooted in politics. It is rooted in something simpler and older than politics: a people’s moral and historical right to their homeland, and their right to live in peace.

Israel has that right — and the right to defend herself against those who openly, repeatedly vow her destruction.

Let’s make it personal: if someone told me again and again that they wanted to kill me and my entire family — and then acted on that threat — would I not defend myself? Wouldn’t you? If Hamas were Canada, and we were Israel, and they did to us what Hamas has done to them, there wouldn’t be a single building left standing north of our border. That’s not a question of morality.

That’s just the truth. All people — every people — have a God-given right to protect themselves. And Israel is doing exactly that.

My support for Israel’s right to finish the fight against Hamas comes after eighty years of rejected peace offers and failed two-state solutions. Hamas has never hidden its mission — the eradication of Israel. That’s not a political disagreement.

That’s not a land dispute. That is an annihilationist ideology. And while I do not believe this is America’s war to fight, I do believe — with every fiber of my being — that it is Israel’s right, and moral duty, to defend her people.

Criticism of military tactics is fair. That’s not antisemitism. But denying Israel’s right to exist, or excusing — even celebrating — the barbarity of Hamas? That’s something far darker.

We saw it on October 7th — the face of evil itself. Women and children slaughtered. Babies burned alive. Innocent people raped and dragged through the streets. And now, to see our own fellow citizens march in defense of that evil… that is nothing short of a moral collapse.

If the chants in our streets were, “Hamas, return the hostages — Israel, stop the bombing,” we could have a conversation.

But that’s not what we hear.

What we hear is open sympathy for genocidal hatred. And that is a chasm — not just from decency, but from humanity itself. And here lies the danger: that same hatred is taking root here — in Dearborn, in London, in Paris — not as horror, but as heroism. If we are not vigilant, the enemy Israel faces today will be the enemy the free world faces tomorrow.

This isn’t about politics. It’s about truth. It’s about the courage to call evil by its name and to say “Never again” — and mean it.

And you don’t have to open a Bible to understand this. But if you do — if you are a believer — then this issue cuts even deeper. Because the question becomes: what did God promise, and does He keep His word?

He told Abraham, “I will bless those who bless you, and curse those who curse you.” He promised to make Abraham the father of many nations and to give him “the whole land of Canaan.” And though Abraham had other sons, God reaffirmed that promise through Isaac. And then again through Isaac’s son, Jacob — Israel — saying: “The land I gave to Abraham and Isaac I give to you and to your descendants after you.”

That’s an everlasting promise.

And from those descendants came a child — born in Bethlehem — who claimed to be the Savior of the world. Jesus never rejected His title as “son of David,” the great King of Israel.

He said plainly that He came “for the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” And when He returns, Scripture says He will return as “the Lion of the tribe of Judah.” And where do you think He will go? Back to His homeland — Israel.

Tamir Kalifa / Stringer | Getty Images

And what will He find when He gets there? His brothers — or his brothers’ enemies? Will the roads where He once walked be preserved? Or will they lie in rubble, as Gaza does today? If what He finds looks like the aftermath of October 7th, then tell me — what will be my defense as a Christian?

Some Christians argue that God’s promises to Israel have been transferred exclusively to the Church. I don’t believe that. But even if you do, then ask yourself this: if we’ve inherited the promises, do we not also inherit the land? Can we claim the birthright and then, like Esau, treat it as worthless when the world tries to steal it?

So, when terrorists come to slaughter Israelis simply for living in the land promised to Abraham, will we stand by? Or will we step forward — into the line of fire — and say,

“Take me instead”?

Because this is not just about Israel’s right to exist.

It’s about whether we still know the difference between good and evil.

It’s about whether we still have the courage to stand where God stands.

And if we cannot — if we will not — then maybe the question isn’t whether Israel will survive. Maybe the question is whether we will.

America’s moral erosion: How we were conditioned to accept the unthinkable

MATHIEU LEWIS-ROLLAND / Contributor | Getty Images

Every time we look away from lawlessness, we tell the next mob it can go a little further.

Chicago, Portland, and other American cities are showing us what happens when the rule of law breaks down. These cities have become openly lawless — and that’s not hyperbole.

When a governor declares she doesn’t believe federal agents about a credible threat to their lives, when Chicago orders its police not to assist federal officers, and when cartels print wanted posters offering bounties for the deaths of U.S. immigration agents, you’re looking at a country flirting with anarchy.

Two dangers face us now: the intimidation of federal officers and the normalization of soldiers as street police. Accept either, and we lose the republic.

This isn’t a matter of partisan politics. The struggle we’re watching now is not between Democrats and Republicans. It’s between good and evil, right and wrong, self‑government and chaos.

Moral erosion

For generations, Americans have inherited a republic based on law, liberty, and moral responsibility. That legacy is now under assault by extremists who openly seek to collapse the system and replace it with something darker.

Antifa, well‑financed by the left, isn’t an isolated fringe any more than Occupy Wall Street was. As with Occupy, big money and global interests are quietly aligned with “anti‑establishment” radicals. The goal is disruption, not reform.

And they’ve learned how to condition us. Twenty‑five years ago, few Americans would have supported drag shows in elementary schools, biological males in women’s sports, forced vaccinations, or government partnerships with mega‑corporations to decide which businesses live or die. Few would have tolerated cartels threatening federal agents or tolerated mobs doxxing political opponents. Yet today, many shrug — or cheer.

How did we get here? What evidence convinced so many people to reverse themselves on fundamental questions of morality, liberty, and law? Those long laboring to disrupt our republic have sought to condition people to believe that the ends justify the means.

Promoting “tolerance” justifies women losing to biological men in sports. “Compassion” justifies harboring illegal immigrants, even violent criminals. Whatever deluded ideals Antifa espouses is supposed to somehow justify targeting federal agents and overturning the rule of law. Our culture has been conditioned for this moment.

The buck stops with us

That’s why the debate over using troops to restore order in American cities matters so much. I’ve never supported soldiers executing civilian law, and I still don’t. But we need to speak honestly about what the Constitution allows and why. The Posse Comitatus Act sharply limits the use of the military for domestic policing. The Insurrection Act, however, exists for rare emergencies — when federal law truly can’t be enforced by ordinary means and when mobs, cartels, or coordinated violence block the courts.

Even then, the Constitution demands limits: a public proclamation ordering offenders to disperse, transparency about the mission, a narrow scope, temporary duration, and judicial oversight.

Soldiers fight wars. Cops enforce laws. We blur that line at our peril.

But we also cannot allow intimidation of federal officers or tolerate local officials who openly obstruct federal enforcement. Both extremes — lawlessness on one side and militarization on the other — endanger the republic.

The only way out is the Constitution itself. Protect civil liberty. Enforce the rule of law. Demand transparency. Reject the temptation to justify any tactic because “our side” is winning. We’ve already seen how fear after 9/11 led to the Patriot Act and years of surveillance.

KAMIL KRZACZYNSKI / Contributor | Getty Images

Two dangers face us now: the intimidation of federal officers and the normalization of soldiers as street police. Accept either, and we lose the republic. The left cannot be allowed to shut down enforcement, and the right cannot be allowed to abandon constitutional restraint.

The real threat to the republic isn’t just the mobs or the cartels. It’s us — citizens who stop caring about truth and constitutional limits. Anything can be justified when fear takes over. Everything collapses when enough people decide “the ends justify the means.”

We must choose differently. Uphold the rule of law. Guard civil liberties. And remember that the only way to preserve a government of, by, and for the people is to act like the people still want it.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Stand with Voddie Baucham’s family in this time of loss

In the quiet aftermath of a profound loss, the Christian community mourns the unexpected passing of Dr. Voddie Baucham, a towering figure in evangelical circles. Known for his defense of biblical truth, Baucham, a pastor, author, and theologian, left a legacy on family, faith, and opposing "woke" ideologies in the church. His book Fault Lines challenged believers to prioritize Scripture over cultural trends. Glenn had Voddie on the show several times, where they discussed progressive influences in Christianity, debunked myths of “Christian nationalism,” and urged hope amid hostility.

The shock of Baucham's death has deeply affected his family. Grieving, they remain hopeful in Christ, with his wife, Bridget, now facing the task of resettling in the US without him. Their planned move from Lusaka, Zambia, was disrupted when their home sale fell through last December, resulting in temporary Airbnb accommodations, but they have since secured a new home in Cape Coral that requires renovations. To ensure Voddie's family is taken care of, a fundraiser is being held to raise $2 million, which will be invested for ongoing support, allowing Bridget to focus on her family.

We invite readers to contribute prayerfully. If you feel called to support the Bauchams in this time of need, you can click here to donate.

We grieve and pray with hope for the Bauchams.

May Voddie's example inspire us.

From isolation to connection: Overcoming loneliness

Loneliness isn’t just being alone — it’s feeling unseen, unheard, and unimportant, even amid crowds and constant digital chatter.

Loneliness has become an epidemic in America. Millions of people, even when surrounded by others, feel invisible. In tragic irony, we live in an age of unparalleled connectivity, yet too many sit in silence, unseen and unheard.

I’ve been experiencing this firsthand. My children have grown up and moved out. The house that once overflowed with life now echoes with quiet. Moments that once held laughter now hold silence. And in that silence, the mind can play cruel games. It whispers, “You’re forgotten. Your story doesn’t matter.”

We are unique in our gifts, but not in our humanity. Recognizing this shared struggle is how we overcome loneliness.

It’s a lie.

I’ve seen it in others. I remember sitting at Rockefeller Center one winter, watching a woman lace up her ice skates. Her clothing was worn, her bag battered. Yet on the ice, she transformed — elegant, alive, radiant.

Minutes later, she returned to her shoes, merged into the crowd, unnoticed. I’ve thought of her often. She was not alone in her experience. Millions of Americans live unseen, performing acts of quiet heroism every day.

Shared pain makes us human

Loneliness convinces us to retreat, to stay silent, to stop reaching out to others. But connection is essential. Even small gestures — a word of encouragement, a listening ear, a shared meal — are radical acts against isolation.

I’ve learned this personally. Years ago, a caller called me “Mr. Perfect.” I could have deflected, but I chose honesty. I spoke of my alcoholism, my failed marriage, my brokenness. I expected judgment. Instead, I found resonance. People whispered back, “I’m going through the same thing. Thank you for saying it.”

Our pain is universal. Everyone struggles with self-doubt and fear. Everyone feels, at times, like a fraud. We are unique in our gifts, but not in our humanity. Recognizing this shared struggle is how we overcome loneliness.

We were made for connection. We were built for community — for conversation, for touch, for shared purpose. Every time we reach out, every act of courage and compassion punches a hole in the wall of isolation.

You’re not alone

If you’re feeling alone, know this: You are not invisible. You are seen. You matter. And if you’re not struggling, someone you know is. It’s your responsibility to reach out.

Loneliness is not proof of brokenness. It is proof of humanity. It is a call to engage, to bear witness, to connect. The world is different because of the people who choose to act. It is brighter when we refuse to be isolated.

We cannot let silence win. We cannot allow loneliness to dictate our lives. Speak. Reach out. Connect. Share your gifts. By doing so, we remind one another: We are all alike, and yet each of us matters profoundly.

In this moment, in this country, in this world, what we do matters. Loneliness is real, but so is hope. And hope begins with connection.