The following includes some meandering commentary on Iben Thranholm’s article Will Hungary be a Christian Nation After Orbán, which appeared on the First Things site yesterday.
Those wishing for a succinct encapsulation of my views regarding the article may be satisfied by the summary below:
Thranholm correctly recognizes the ineffectiveness and inanity of Christianity as a top-down state project but misguidedly promotes a top-down church project as the means through which to re-Christianize people in the West.
Although I agree with Thranholm’s dismissal of politics as a re-Christianizing force, I vehemently reject his claim that churches offer any solution to the re-Christianizing problem, primarily because churches differ little from political parties in their approaches, methods, aims, and motivations (to say nothing of the spiritual collapse churches demonstrated in 2020–2021).
Re-Christianizing today depends entirely on the aims, motivations, and faith of the individual Christian sans all Christian externalities, even those provided by the most well-meaning church. A Christian today must learn how to become and remain a Christian in what amounts to a this-worldly void. He cannot rely on anything external to guide him or save him. Christianity must become predominantly internal, mystical, and spiritual. And that’s where the adventure starts.
Anyway, on to the article (in italics, some editing added).
As a Dane from one of the world’s most secular societies, I had come to Hungary expecting a kind of Christian Canaan: a place where a government unapologetically championed the faith, defended Christian values in the E.U., and stood as the last real bastion against aggressive secularization. Here, I imagined, the streets of Budapest would overflow with vibrant Christian life.
They did not.
The explanation for this is quite simple—Orbán’s rhetoric about a Christian Hungary was just that, rhetoric. Strip that rhetoric away, and you are left with a country that is just as secular as Denmark or perhaps even worse. Yes, the Hungarians may be a little more socially conservative in their values, but social conservatism does not in itself imply Christian belief.
For years, Christians and conservatives touted Hungary as an exemplary Christian nation when it was and remains anything but. They took Orbán’s rhetoric at face value and embraced that as “reality” when the actual cultural and religious situation in Hungary revealed a different “reality” entirely.
As much as Christians love to expound the veritable existence of the opposite, the stark reality of our modern world is that there are no Christian nations left in the West. Not even culturally Christian ones. Not one. Although some externals and “going through the motions” still linger in Western countries, it would be egregiously insincere to argue that any country in the West is Christian, culturally or otherwise.
Hungary proves this beyond the reach of any counterargument. If there were countries in the West that had a feasible shot at becoming “culturally Christian,” it was the former Eastern Bloc countries; however, once they emerged from behind the Iron Curtain, the cultures within these nations unequivocally welcomed Western secularism.
In ten months of daily life in Budapest, I saw remarkably few signs of living Christian faith. I regularly went to Mass in several Catholic churches, and they were decently full on Sundays, yet overall participation remained strikingly low. The statistics confirm this: Hungary has one of Europe’s lowest rates of regular church attendance. Only about 12–17 percent of the population attends religious services at least monthly, and among young adults, the figure drops below 10 percent.
While most Hungarians still identify culturally as Christian, predominantly Roman Catholic or Reformed, the country is functionally highly secularized, with a large share claiming no active religious affiliation.
As accurate and interesting as all of this is, I am convinced that it represents an extremely narrow and misguided view of what living the Christian faith must entail today. Note the focus on groups and percentages within groups.
Note the spotlight on Christian externalities, specifically, church attendance and professed church affiliation.
As is the case with virtually all self-professed Christians, the author of this excerpted article regards Christianity as primarily external, cultural, social, and political.
It’s all about how many people claim to belong to a particular church or regularly go to church, which then often segues into which political parties “officially” oppose the secular left by championing Christian ideals and values.
Yet on St. Stephen’s Day each year, one could easily be tempted to believe that Hungary was filled with fervent Christians. Hungarians flocked to the national celebrations. They cheered and took photos as drones lit up the night sky with the glowing image of the Christian king’s crown above the Danube. But when the lights went out, Hungary was no more Christian than before.
The paragraph above helps reinforce an earlier post of mine in which I commented on the utter vacuity of the annual “drone cross” display (Rod Dreher would disagree). Moreover, it also presents a realistic and unintentionally damning report on the state of nationalism in Hungary. St. Stephen founded the nation over a thousand years ago, yet when the drone display ended, Hungary did not become more Christian or more nationalistic.
If anything, I believe the author’s observation lays bare how utterly pointless and potentially harmful any external “show” of Christianity has become in our post-Christian world (harmful because it obstructs people from looking elsewhere for the essence of Christianity).
Orbán himself was fully aware of this disconnect, yet he continued to believe strongly in the importance of cultural Christianity. He repeatedly stressed that Christian virtues lead to peace and happiness, and the Hungarian constitution explicitly obliges the state to protect “Hungary’s constitutional self-identity and Christian culture.”
He saw the preservation of this Christian cultural framework as absolutely essential. That is why he fiercely opposed same-sex marriage and the broader LGBTQ agenda. In his eyes, accepting it would mean that Christianity no longer functioned as the moral code for Hungarian and European culture. Once that foundation was abandoned, culture would break loose from its Christian roots and slide into a post-Christian void.
Orbán may have fiercely opposed same sex marriage and the alphabet agenda in his rhetoric, but that did nothing to prevent one of his most loyal MEPs from attending an all-male sex orgy in Brussels during the birdemic lockdown. It also did not hinder the annual gay pride parades, which went on regardless of Orbán’s fiery opposition and legal prohibitions.
That aside, Orbán did not care about cultural Christianity at all. Sure, he went on about ad nauseam; however, a closer look at his policies reveals that he was following the secular, leftist playbook for all Western countries in the areas it mattered most—more particularly, indebting and impoverishing Hungary and Hungarians to levels rarely seen before, all while enriching himself and his gay orgy-loving cronies to the tune of billions.
It’s well past time that Christians wake up to the fact that all Western countries are already in a post-Christian void. Christianity no longer offers any cultural framework nor functions at a moral level anywhere in the West. Ironically, those who blather on about the need for such frameworks and morals rank among the worst offenders and betrayers of the Christian roots they profess to defend.
His (Orbán’s) government therefore offered concrete incentives rooted in Christian anthropology as part of one of Orbán’s flagship policies: strengthening the traditional family. For example, mothers with three or more children receive a full lifetime exemption from personal income tax. Yet even after the policy was expanded in late 2025, few women actually took advantage of it.
What good is a lifetime income tax exemption if your net income is roughly 15,000 euros a year? Yes, the average Hungarian, male or female, earns about 15,000 annually after taxes. If Orbán had wanted to root his incentives in Christian anthropology, he could have considered raising wages instead.
However, all of this once again misses the point entirely. Tax incentives? Pay? Is that what Christianity and Christian values are all about?
This, it seems to me, is the deeper lesson. Orbán’s project was not without merit. After forty years of communist destruction, Hungarians understandably craved a recovered national identity, a moral code for what is right and what is wrong. Yet when the defense of “Christian culture” becomes primarily a top-down state project, it risks turning into identity politics wearing a cross. Cultural Christianity, a thin veneer of heritage, symbolism, and national pride, lacks the power to re-Christianize a people. It cannot substitute for the Church’s own work of preaching, sacraments, discipleship, and conversion.
Yes on the first part; no on the second. Politics cannot and will not re-Christianize people; however, contrary to the author’s claim, neither will churches. Christianity as a top-down church project will fail. Or, more accurately, will fail again. Placing faith in churches as a re-Christianizing force is just as misplaced as thinking politicians can create Christian nations. Though potentially useful for some, preaching, sacraments, discipleship, and conversion all concentrate on the externalities of Christianity and are insufficient for the sort of Christian faith required today.
Hungary shows that a government can champion Christian values in law and rhetoric while the population remains largely unmoved in heart and habit. When Fidesz lost the election, practical concerns proved far more decisive for many voters: struggling health care, a weak economy, and corruption scandals. The Christian identity Orbán had championed simply did not run deep enough to keep them loyal. The Christian symbols had not reshaped souls; they had mostly rallied a cultural tribe.
Put another way, Hungarians finally saw through Orbán’s Christian-themed bullshit. Orbán may have championed Christian values in law and rhetoric, but that law and rhetoric did not apply to him and his cronies. Moreover, it did not apply to the average Hungarian who is and always was far more concerned about the economy and other assorted this-worldly concerns than he ever was or is about what Christianity is or should be.
Also, the whole cultural tribe thing is waning in Hungary. Most of the Hungarians I meet, particularly the young, want to leave Hungary and escape Hungarians.
Anyway, as Thranholm notes, the Christian symbols had not reshaped souls. Taken a step further, I would argue that is not necessarily a bad thing. I am firmly convinced that we live in times during which no Christian should rely on any symbol to shape his soul. His Christianity should and must extend deeper than that.
Hungary will only become a genuinely Christian nation when the churches take up the task that was always theirs. With the state no longer wrapping itself in the mantle of Christian nationalism, the gospel may finally speak with the clarity and freedom it needs, untangled from political power and uncompromised by the compromises of governance.
A Christianity that depends on Orbán (or any Caesar) for its survival was never going to endure. A Christianity that rises again through preaching, prayer, and sacrificial witness just might.
The same goes for a Christianity that depends on churches for its survival. Relying on preaching, prayer, and sacrificial witness in a church alone does not cut it anymore. More is needed. That more is internal faith anchored in freedom and creativity, which implies less dependence on externalities like churches and symbols.
Nations are not Christian because their constitution says so or because their leaders wield the cross. People become Christian when their hearts are claimed by Christ, something no government, however well-intentioned, can accomplish in their place. The real work begins now.
Yes, but the church will not assume that real work in any meaningful way. Anyone who thinks otherwise is delusional. People do become Christians when Christ claims their hearts, but such heart claims can no longer depend on churches to instill them. The real work the author pines for must happen through inner, mystical, spiritual experience.
The nation Christians yearn for is not of this world. No "this-worldly" force or organization, be it a nation, political party, or church, can deliver it for them.
Those wishing for a succinct encapsulation of my views regarding the article may be satisfied by the summary below:
Thranholm correctly recognizes the ineffectiveness and inanity of Christianity as a top-down state project but misguidedly promotes a top-down church project as the means through which to re-Christianize people in the West.
Although I agree with Thranholm’s dismissal of politics as a re-Christianizing force, I vehemently reject his claim that churches offer any solution to the re-Christianizing problem, primarily because churches differ little from political parties in their approaches, methods, aims, and motivations (to say nothing of the spiritual collapse churches demonstrated in 2020–2021).
Re-Christianizing today depends entirely on the aims, motivations, and faith of the individual Christian sans all Christian externalities, even those provided by the most well-meaning church. A Christian today must learn how to become and remain a Christian in what amounts to a this-worldly void. He cannot rely on anything external to guide him or save him. Christianity must become predominantly internal, mystical, and spiritual. And that’s where the adventure starts.
Anyway, on to the article (in italics, some editing added).
As a Dane from one of the world’s most secular societies, I had come to Hungary expecting a kind of Christian Canaan: a place where a government unapologetically championed the faith, defended Christian values in the E.U., and stood as the last real bastion against aggressive secularization. Here, I imagined, the streets of Budapest would overflow with vibrant Christian life.
They did not.
The explanation for this is quite simple—Orbán’s rhetoric about a Christian Hungary was just that, rhetoric. Strip that rhetoric away, and you are left with a country that is just as secular as Denmark or perhaps even worse. Yes, the Hungarians may be a little more socially conservative in their values, but social conservatism does not in itself imply Christian belief.
For years, Christians and conservatives touted Hungary as an exemplary Christian nation when it was and remains anything but. They took Orbán’s rhetoric at face value and embraced that as “reality” when the actual cultural and religious situation in Hungary revealed a different “reality” entirely.
As much as Christians love to expound the veritable existence of the opposite, the stark reality of our modern world is that there are no Christian nations left in the West. Not even culturally Christian ones. Not one. Although some externals and “going through the motions” still linger in Western countries, it would be egregiously insincere to argue that any country in the West is Christian, culturally or otherwise.
Hungary proves this beyond the reach of any counterargument. If there were countries in the West that had a feasible shot at becoming “culturally Christian,” it was the former Eastern Bloc countries; however, once they emerged from behind the Iron Curtain, the cultures within these nations unequivocally welcomed Western secularism.
In ten months of daily life in Budapest, I saw remarkably few signs of living Christian faith. I regularly went to Mass in several Catholic churches, and they were decently full on Sundays, yet overall participation remained strikingly low. The statistics confirm this: Hungary has one of Europe’s lowest rates of regular church attendance. Only about 12–17 percent of the population attends religious services at least monthly, and among young adults, the figure drops below 10 percent.
While most Hungarians still identify culturally as Christian, predominantly Roman Catholic or Reformed, the country is functionally highly secularized, with a large share claiming no active religious affiliation.
As accurate and interesting as all of this is, I am convinced that it represents an extremely narrow and misguided view of what living the Christian faith must entail today. Note the focus on groups and percentages within groups.
Note the spotlight on Christian externalities, specifically, church attendance and professed church affiliation.
As is the case with virtually all self-professed Christians, the author of this excerpted article regards Christianity as primarily external, cultural, social, and political.
It’s all about how many people claim to belong to a particular church or regularly go to church, which then often segues into which political parties “officially” oppose the secular left by championing Christian ideals and values.
Yet on St. Stephen’s Day each year, one could easily be tempted to believe that Hungary was filled with fervent Christians. Hungarians flocked to the national celebrations. They cheered and took photos as drones lit up the night sky with the glowing image of the Christian king’s crown above the Danube. But when the lights went out, Hungary was no more Christian than before.
The paragraph above helps reinforce an earlier post of mine in which I commented on the utter vacuity of the annual “drone cross” display (Rod Dreher would disagree). Moreover, it also presents a realistic and unintentionally damning report on the state of nationalism in Hungary. St. Stephen founded the nation over a thousand years ago, yet when the drone display ended, Hungary did not become more Christian or more nationalistic.
If anything, I believe the author’s observation lays bare how utterly pointless and potentially harmful any external “show” of Christianity has become in our post-Christian world (harmful because it obstructs people from looking elsewhere for the essence of Christianity).
Orbán himself was fully aware of this disconnect, yet he continued to believe strongly in the importance of cultural Christianity. He repeatedly stressed that Christian virtues lead to peace and happiness, and the Hungarian constitution explicitly obliges the state to protect “Hungary’s constitutional self-identity and Christian culture.”
He saw the preservation of this Christian cultural framework as absolutely essential. That is why he fiercely opposed same-sex marriage and the broader LGBTQ agenda. In his eyes, accepting it would mean that Christianity no longer functioned as the moral code for Hungarian and European culture. Once that foundation was abandoned, culture would break loose from its Christian roots and slide into a post-Christian void.
Orbán may have fiercely opposed same sex marriage and the alphabet agenda in his rhetoric, but that did nothing to prevent one of his most loyal MEPs from attending an all-male sex orgy in Brussels during the birdemic lockdown. It also did not hinder the annual gay pride parades, which went on regardless of Orbán’s fiery opposition and legal prohibitions.
That aside, Orbán did not care about cultural Christianity at all. Sure, he went on about ad nauseam; however, a closer look at his policies reveals that he was following the secular, leftist playbook for all Western countries in the areas it mattered most—more particularly, indebting and impoverishing Hungary and Hungarians to levels rarely seen before, all while enriching himself and his gay orgy-loving cronies to the tune of billions.
It’s well past time that Christians wake up to the fact that all Western countries are already in a post-Christian void. Christianity no longer offers any cultural framework nor functions at a moral level anywhere in the West. Ironically, those who blather on about the need for such frameworks and morals rank among the worst offenders and betrayers of the Christian roots they profess to defend.
His (Orbán’s) government therefore offered concrete incentives rooted in Christian anthropology as part of one of Orbán’s flagship policies: strengthening the traditional family. For example, mothers with three or more children receive a full lifetime exemption from personal income tax. Yet even after the policy was expanded in late 2025, few women actually took advantage of it.
What good is a lifetime income tax exemption if your net income is roughly 15,000 euros a year? Yes, the average Hungarian, male or female, earns about 15,000 annually after taxes. If Orbán had wanted to root his incentives in Christian anthropology, he could have considered raising wages instead.
However, all of this once again misses the point entirely. Tax incentives? Pay? Is that what Christianity and Christian values are all about?
This, it seems to me, is the deeper lesson. Orbán’s project was not without merit. After forty years of communist destruction, Hungarians understandably craved a recovered national identity, a moral code for what is right and what is wrong. Yet when the defense of “Christian culture” becomes primarily a top-down state project, it risks turning into identity politics wearing a cross. Cultural Christianity, a thin veneer of heritage, symbolism, and national pride, lacks the power to re-Christianize a people. It cannot substitute for the Church’s own work of preaching, sacraments, discipleship, and conversion.
Yes on the first part; no on the second. Politics cannot and will not re-Christianize people; however, contrary to the author’s claim, neither will churches. Christianity as a top-down church project will fail. Or, more accurately, will fail again. Placing faith in churches as a re-Christianizing force is just as misplaced as thinking politicians can create Christian nations. Though potentially useful for some, preaching, sacraments, discipleship, and conversion all concentrate on the externalities of Christianity and are insufficient for the sort of Christian faith required today.
Hungary shows that a government can champion Christian values in law and rhetoric while the population remains largely unmoved in heart and habit. When Fidesz lost the election, practical concerns proved far more decisive for many voters: struggling health care, a weak economy, and corruption scandals. The Christian identity Orbán had championed simply did not run deep enough to keep them loyal. The Christian symbols had not reshaped souls; they had mostly rallied a cultural tribe.
Put another way, Hungarians finally saw through Orbán’s Christian-themed bullshit. Orbán may have championed Christian values in law and rhetoric, but that law and rhetoric did not apply to him and his cronies. Moreover, it did not apply to the average Hungarian who is and always was far more concerned about the economy and other assorted this-worldly concerns than he ever was or is about what Christianity is or should be.
Also, the whole cultural tribe thing is waning in Hungary. Most of the Hungarians I meet, particularly the young, want to leave Hungary and escape Hungarians.
Anyway, as Thranholm notes, the Christian symbols had not reshaped souls. Taken a step further, I would argue that is not necessarily a bad thing. I am firmly convinced that we live in times during which no Christian should rely on any symbol to shape his soul. His Christianity should and must extend deeper than that.
Hungary will only become a genuinely Christian nation when the churches take up the task that was always theirs. With the state no longer wrapping itself in the mantle of Christian nationalism, the gospel may finally speak with the clarity and freedom it needs, untangled from political power and uncompromised by the compromises of governance.
A Christianity that depends on Orbán (or any Caesar) for its survival was never going to endure. A Christianity that rises again through preaching, prayer, and sacrificial witness just might.
The same goes for a Christianity that depends on churches for its survival. Relying on preaching, prayer, and sacrificial witness in a church alone does not cut it anymore. More is needed. That more is internal faith anchored in freedom and creativity, which implies less dependence on externalities like churches and symbols.
Nations are not Christian because their constitution says so or because their leaders wield the cross. People become Christian when their hearts are claimed by Christ, something no government, however well-intentioned, can accomplish in their place. The real work begins now.
Yes, but the church will not assume that real work in any meaningful way. Anyone who thinks otherwise is delusional. People do become Christians when Christ claims their hearts, but such heart claims can no longer depend on churches to instill them. The real work the author pines for must happen through inner, mystical, spiritual experience.
The nation Christians yearn for is not of this world. No "this-worldly" force or organization, be it a nation, political party, or church, can deliver it for them.
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