The first time I laughed out loud at an email from Pete Hegseth’s spiritual adviser was probably in 2024. I had written to Doug Wilson to ask if he would talk to me for a piece I was writing, and he politely declined, referring to Mother Jones as a “commie publication.”
That’s sort of his thing: Wilson once described himself to me as a chef who strategically deploys jalapeños. It’s a shrewd strategy considering who he really is: a self-declared Christian nationalist who thinks women’s suffrage was a mistake, wants to bring back public flogging, and believes in an America dominated by what he calls “biblical masculinity.”
Which would all be one thing if he was just some guy in Idaho, but he’s not: Hegseth has cited Wilson as a major influence and invited him to preach at the Pentagon earlier this year. He moves in the same circles as JD Vance. His denomination has 160 churches worldwide (including the one Hegseth attends in Tennessee), and it’s growing.
With Doug’s star on the rise, earlier this year I decided I had to go to Idaho. I had brunch at Doug’s house, where I learned a lot about Hegseth’s extreme approach to leading the military.
But my most interesting conversations were with women in his church. I sort of expected them to be trad wives—you know, long denim jumpers, butter churns, the whole bit. But what I found was much more interesting: The women of Christ Church are funny and poised. They wear normal, stylish clothes, and they make a mean guacamole.
And they definitely, 1,000 percent believe in the gospel of Pete Hegseth and Doug Wilson—and that people like me are going to hell.
—Kiera Butler
