Christianity is front and center as early voting begins in the Texas Senate race between Republican Ken Paxton and Democrat James Talarico. Unfortunately, religion is being treated as another weapon in America’s polarized political fight, not as something independent and powerful enough to slice through our partisan nonsense.

“I want you to know that he (Paxton) was the man who was up before anyone else in our house, reading his Bible at the kitchen table when nobody was watching. I want you to know he read Scripture with me. Prayed with me. And helped lead me to Christ,” read a recent form letter from Ken Paxton’s daughter to our mailbox.

As a Christian, it tugs at my heart. But then I remember that Paxton’s wife is suing him on “biblical grounds,” that he was impeached by Texas Republicans (not coastal elites) for corruption, and that he’s traveling around unabashedly with a new girlfriend. No one’s perfect. But that isn’t exactly humble discipleship.

In normal times, such a checkered candidate might deploy different campaign tactics, ones that put less of a spotlight on his personal flaws. But Paxton is leaning into the faith argument because of who he is up against: Talarico, a Presbyterian seminarian.

Talarico’s candidacy scrambles the modern American political categories of the secular left and Christian right. It is a direct threat this midterm cycle to an unenthused GOP base, meh on Paxton, that may be tempted to stay home in November. Or worse: turn out for a Democrat.

Add to this: Texans aren’t happy with the economy under Republican leadership — 43% say that their family finances have gotten worse. So maybe changing the topic to Christianity will help.

After all, White evangelical Christians have been the bedrock of the GOP coalition for decades. Nationally, a White evangelical churchgoer is 82% likely to support the Republican nominee, according to Pew Research. By contrast, 68% of the religiously unaffiliated align with the left.

This dynamic is particularly alive in Texas, where an outsized share (67%) of the electorate identifies as Christian, and in particular, as evangelicals. As a result, much of the anti-Talarico messaging hitting mailboxes and airwaves targets his theology rather than his policy record.

“The beliefs of James Talarico are certainly wrong. But they’re more than wrong. The beliefs of James Talarico are blasphemous. They are evil, and they are not beliefs that any true Christian could support. Ever,” said Dallas Baptist megachurch pastor Robert Jeffress, according to recent reporting by the New York Times. (Jeffress also gave an invocation at the Republican National Committee’s Dallas midterm convention.) Nary a flyer arrives on our doorstep that doesn't mention that Talarico previously called God “nonbinary” and Jesus a “radical feminist.” (Even though Jesus’ dignified treatment of women should be something to celebrate, not disparage, in this lady’s opinion.)

To be sure, I am far more theologically conservative than Talarico. But I also find the right’s pivot to upholding orthodoxy bizarrely timed, given the state of the GOP.

For one thing, although Paxton is closing in on Talarico’s lead in the race overall, the character gap remains in the double digits. Only 41% of Texas voters think Ken Paxton has the character to be US senator relative to 54% for Talarico, according to a recent CBS/You Gov poll. Another poll finds that the majority of Texans (51%) think that President Trump has brought presidential corruption to a new level.

Evangelicals tend to be more faith-versus-works people, but I’m hard-pressed in normal life to find churchgoers who shrug off personal character.

Moreover, it’s debasing to use the gospel as a political cudgel to keep GOP voters in line. Religion should serve as an independent moral conscience that challenges both parties and holds them to higher standards. The church is called to be a source of accountability to political power, not beholden to factions of it. The problem with fitting Christianity into modern politics is that a modern political party is never big enough to capture the complexity of concerns in the gospel, which stretch across time, across place and most certainly across political parties.

It is why the late Presbyterian preacher — admittedly of a more conservative variety than Talarico — Tim Keller warned that a Christian in America should never comfortably fit within the two-party system. For example, one side might recognize biological differences between men and women or the value of traditional marriage or life in the womb, but the other might be more protective of the poor and immigrants or against public executions.

I would personally welcome a resurgence of faith in public life. But it should hold politicians of all types accountable, not serve as a cattle prod to keep voters in line.