When I was a graduate student at UF, I didn’t set out to become a “politics and religion” guy. I set out to restart a student group that had gone dormant, because it felt unhealthy—intellectually and civically—to let “religion” be treated as the default, unquestioned atmosphere.
Even the name of the group evolved over time, and that evolution mattered: I eventually preferred “Gator Freethought” over explicit labels like atheist or agnostic, because thoughtful people are generally open-minded about the God question. The shift was marketing and identity as much as metaphysics. (the ripple effect, 2022-07-24)
UF also taught me something else: the “public square” is not an abstract ideal. It’s a physical place with rules, incentives, and rituals. I once described it matter-of-factly: “On my school campus, we have a ‘free speech zone’ or two on campus that are heavily trafficked; campus preachers and student groups use them for advertising/proselytizing purposes on a regular basis.” (Credulity Demonstrated, 2007-01-28). In Gainesville that was often Turlington Plaza, and I remember a moment that still captures the dynamic: “I walked through Turlington Plaza, and found Joey Johnsen preaching, as is par for the course.” (God is a Dick, Cont’d, 2007-04-18). The point isn’t Joey as a person. It’s the pattern—how easily “witness” becomes a way of claiming space, defining what counts as normal, and framing everyone else as rebellion. Did he seek to make disciples or force submission?
Which is why one of the most revealing things we ever did was something we explicitly insisted was not a debate.
In the summer of 2007, we tried to coordinate an event with another on-campus group “who holds a differing perspective on god-related and other philosophical issues.” Mark Trujillo—who led a Christian group called Gator Christian Life—suggested an event his group had done before called “The Academy.” The format was structured pluralism: student panelists from different groups answering questions; separate tables; an audience portion; “more informational than confrontational.” (Event: The Academy, 2007-06-07). That’s what healthy public religion looks like: not coercion, not monopoly, but coexistence under shared rules.
At the time, I also had a libertarian-ish instinct for restraint. I didn’t want the government preaching, even when I liked the sermon. And my critique wasn’t rooted in ignorance. I said it plainly: “As a former youth pastor at two churches… I am hardly hateful or paranoid about Christianity.” (Lurching Along, 2006-07-25). I’m intimately familiar with the Bible. Which is exactly why I can tell the difference between faith as a way of life and faith as a tool of domination.
That distinction became unavoidable in the Ten Commandments monument fights—because those were not metaphors. One local paper described the conflict in concrete terms. (Dixie County article, 2007-02-16). I ended up on Fox News (Hannity & Colmes) about that fight on November 29, 2006, because I thought the underlying principle mattered: courthouses aren’t churches. When a courthouse starts speaking in one sect’s voice, it’s no longer neutral ground. It’s an altar with a parking lot.
And then Trump arrived and performed the clarifying inversion: the Religious Right kept supporting a man whose personal life and visible “faith” didn’t match the testimony. Trump didn’t create the impulse; he exposed it. If the underlying project is power rather than the gospel, then the ends justify the means, and they’ll call him their “king Cyrus” or whatever it takes to swallow the lie.
