Doug Wilson, once a little-known pastor in the small college town of Moscow, Idaho, has found himself at the epicenter of America’s Christian right. This summer, his denomination, Christ Church, opened a new congregation just blocks from the U.S. Capitol—a bold move that signals both the ambition and the growing influence of Wilson and his movement. The opening drew none other than Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, a member of a Communion of Reformed Evangelical Churches (CREC) congregation in Tennessee, underscoring how far Wilson’s reach now extends into national politics, according to the Associated Press.
It’s a remarkable journey for a man who, for decades, was considered a fringe figure even within evangelical circles. Wilson’s radical teachings—such as his assertion that empathy can be a sin, his belief that the U.S. is inherently a Christian nation, and his open regret that women were granted the right to vote—long kept him at the margins. But as the evangelical movement has aligned itself more closely with former President Donald Trump’s Republican agenda, Wilson’s ideas have found a larger and more receptive audience. “This is the first time we’ve had connections with as many people in national government as we do now,” Wilson told the Associated Press in August 2025.
The shift was on full display during the first conference of the new Washington, D.C., congregation, held in Virginia over the weekend of September 6-7, 2025. The event drew 350 attendees—more than double the church’s usual Sunday crowd—many of them young, internet-savvy men attracted by Wilson’s blend of strict theology and culture-war bravado. Wilson explained the church’s purpose was to serve members who had relocated to work in Trump’s administration, adding, “We didn’t come to D.C. in order to meet important people. We’re here because we want to create the opportunity for important people and other people to meet with God.”
Wilson’s star is also rising in the broader conservative movement. Days before the church conference, he was a featured speaker at the National Conservatism Conference, sharing a stage with Trump Cabinet members Tom Homan and Russell Vought, and Senator Josh Hawley of Missouri. Two additional CREC ministers participated in the event, offering prayers and panel discussions. In his speech, Wilson offered a full-throated endorsement of Christian nationalism, declaring, “America was deeply Christian and Protestant at the founding,” while acknowledging that “numerous credentialed historians dispute this notion, which should tell you something about our credentialing system.”
Wilson’s vision for America is unapologetically radical. He calls for the end of same-sex marriage, abortion, and Pride parades, and supports stricter controls on pornography and immigration. Onstage, he criticized current immigration policies, saying, “It is not xenophobic to object to the immigration policies of those who want to turn the Michigan-Ohio border into something that resembles the India-Pakistan border.” He also questioned whether Muslims could assimilate, remarking, “There’s only so much white sand you can put in the sugar bowl before it isn’t the sugar bowl anymore.”
At the heart of Wilson’s theology is a strict version of Reformed Christianity, rooted in the teachings of 16th-century Protestant reformer John Calvin. Since the 1970s, Wilson’s ministry has expanded to include the Association of Christian Classical Schools and New Saint Andrew’s College, both based in Moscow, Idaho. He’s a prolific writer and content creator, with a robust media presence through his publishing house, Canon Press. His extensive catalog of books and blog posts has provided ample fodder for critics—and not without reason.
One of Wilson’s most controversial works is the 1996 book “Southern Slavery as It Was,” which he co-authored and which downplayed the horrors of slavery. In 2025, Wilson admitted he would clarify some points if he could rewrite the book, but he still maintains that some slave owners and enslaved people “had a good relationship with one another.” He told the Associated Press, “There was horrific maltreatment on the one hand, and then there are other stories that are right out of Disney’s ‘Song of the South.’” The reference to the 1946 film, which has long been criticized for its racist stereotypes and depiction of plantation life, only fueled further controversy.
Wilson’s teachings are equally uncompromising when it comes to gender roles. The CREC practices complementarianism, the belief that men and women have distinct, God-given roles. Women are barred from church leadership, and married women are expected to submit to their husbands. Only heads of households—usually men—are allowed to vote in church elections. While Wilson says his wife and daughters vote in nonchurch elections, he’s clear about his preference: “I would prefer the United States follow my congregation’s example with household voting.”
Wilson’s views on sexuality are especially provocative. He has argued that sex requires male authority and female submission, a stance he acknowledges is “offensive to all egalitarians.” In his book “Fidelity,” he writes, “The sexual act cannot be made into an egalitarian pleasuring party. A man penetrates, conquers, colonizes, plants. A woman receives, surrenders, accepts.”
These hard-line positions have attracted a devoted following but have also sparked serious allegations. Former CREC members and critics accuse Wilson and his denomination of creating an environment that enables patriarchal abuse of women and children. Journalist Sarah Stankorb, who has documented such allegations, told the Associated Press, “I’ve seen how much this hurts people.” In her 2024 memoir “A Well-Trained Wife,” former CREC member Tia Levings alleges that Wilson’s writings provided theological justification for her ex-husband’s violence. “I call it church-sanctioned domestic abuse,” Levings said.
Wilson, for his part, categorically denies condoning abuse or ever sanctioning physical discipline of wives. “Our teaching has to be taken as a whole,” he insisted, emphasizing that husbands must love their wives in a Christ-like way. “Beating their wives or spanking their wives is a call-the-cops situation,” he told reporters after the church conference.
Despite the criticism, Wilson’s movement is growing. The CREC now boasts more than 150 churches across the United States and abroad, with ambitions to expand into the thousands so that most Americans are within driving distance of one. Wilson often says his movement is playing the long game, expecting its vision to take centuries to fully manifest. Yet, as Tia Levings pointed out, “It took him only a few decades to get this close to the White House.”
From the fringes of Idaho to the halls of power in Washington, Doug Wilson’s rise is a testament to the changing dynamics of faith and politics in America. Whether his vision will endure for centuries or face a reckoning in the years ahead remains to be seen, but for now, his influence is undeniable—and growing.
