“I don’t have to sell my soul
He’s already in me
I don’t need to sell my soul
He’s already in me

I wanna be adored
I wanna be adored”

— The Stone Roses, I Wanna Be Adored, from the Stone Roses (1989)

“They’re selling postcards of the hanging
They’re painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town”

— Bob Dylan, Desolation Row, from Highway 61 Revisited (1965)

“Ocean of time
Eternal law
To ashes, to dust
To ashes
But not just yet”

— Johnny Klimek, Zu Asche, zu Staub, from Babylon Berlin

Donald J. Trump sought the presidency to become fabulously wealthy. To hell with good public policy. Grift, grift, and more grift. But to prevail, Trump needed a flock of sheep. He found it in MAGA, which includes many Christian nationalists. They will quote Luke 18:25—”It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God”—but then turn a blind eye to Trump’s sinful ways. The reason is simple: Trump (and his ill-advised judicial appointees) are allowing the Christian nationalists to rip the Establishment Clause out of the U.S. Constitution, replacing the free exercise of religion with enforced Christianity as the Christian nationalists define it.

Late this afternoon, Sean Feucht, a preacher who mixes far right politics with his conservative gospel, brought his “tent” show to Chicago’s Daley Plaza. The Atlantic has characterized Feucht as a Christian-nationalist who “has recently become a MAGA superstar.” Feucht rejects such characterization. Yet, outside Wisconsin’s state capitol, Feucht told his followers, “Yeah, we want God in control of government. . . . We want God writing the laws of the land.” To date, Feucht has brought his ministry and rock band to all 50 state capitals.

The Trump Administration provided Feucht with validation earlier this year when the head of the Department of Housing and Urban Development, Scott Turner, asked Feucht to accompany him on a tour of Altadena, California in the wake of the apocalyptic fires that consumed a wide swatch of LA this past January. But Feucht was well known in Trump circles before Trump assumed the presidency for the second time on January 20, 2025. On October 27, 2024, Feucht held a rally at the Lincoln Memorial just days prior to the 2024 election. Before the event, Feucht played a pre-recorded message from Trump, in which Trump said,

I’d like to congratulate Sean Feucht and Let Us Worship on the incredible job you’ve done. Religious liberty is under siege, but we are fighting back like never before. Today you are all joined in prayer on the National Mall, which is so important. I want to tell you that what you’re doing will never be forgotten. God will never forget it, and we will never forget it, because what you are doing is the most important thing. We have to protect our religious liberty and we have to pray. So to Let Us Worship: thank you very much, keep up the incredible job. You go from city to city — it’s an incredible thing you do. Thank you all very much, and have a great day

Trump is not the only politician who has come within Feucht’s orbit. Senator Josh Hawley (R-MO) attended his October 25, 2020 rally on the National Mall—once again days before a presidential election. Feucht also performed at campaign rallies for Kari Lake, who unsuccessfully campaigned for Arizona’s governorship, Doug Mastriano, who unsuccessfully sought Pennsylvania’s governorship, and Colorado Representative Lauren Bobert.

I spent about 90 minutes listening to Feucht’s schtick, while standing under dark skies, with rain occasionally falling. For such a well-known minister, I was surprised by the lackluster turnout. Maybe 100 people showed up. I didn’t undertake a census, but I suspect most were from Chicago’s far-flung suburbs or Illinois’ rural countryside.

Feucht’s mistake may have been to hold his rally in the heart of the city (to quote Nick Lowe, “where the alligator roams”). In Feucht’s view, the alligator is murder, illegal drug use, and the prevailing “spirit of perversion.” His devotees might have been more comfortable in Aurora, Naperville, or St. Charles. Then again, how could Feucht “break the spirit of perversion” without entering the alligator’s swamp.

Despite my qualms about Feucht and his movement, I must give credit where do. He is a masterful performer. Highly charismatic, Feucht’s anthems and chants are simple, but catchy. I found myself humming along. He speaks without notes or a teleprompter.

While he likely has used many of the slogans I heard today at countless prior rallies, his easy delivery made each sound as if it had been freshly minted. Feucht relies heavily on repetition, presumably to create a hypnotic state in his followers. Unfortunately, I didn’t record the event, but I do recall the “break the spirit of . . .” phrase being repeated over and over, with a different evil inserted at the end each time he went back to the proverbial well. No surprise: abortion was one of the evils.

For most of the rally, Feucht was in the moment, but after 45 minutes, I did catch him glancing at his watch, just as George H.W. Bush did during the 1992 presidential debate between himself, Bill Clinton, and Ross Perot. At least for me, any spell he had over me instantly shattered.

When I first arrived, Feucht and his band were playing at ear-splitting volumes. Thankfully, I brought earplugs, but they proved largely ineffective, at least until I pressed my fingers against the foam jammed into my ears. Jesus must have been looking down on me, because shortly after the first or second song, it began to rain. Blue tarps came out, covering the piano and several other instruments. To his credit, Feucht kept singing and preaching, with the pianist providing a simple bass line as he tapped the keys that were partially covered by the tarp. But thankfully, the volume plummeted.

When the rain stopped, Feucht claimed divine intervention, reporting that this is not the first time Jesus has intervened when rain dampens one of Feucht’s rallies. Of course, Feucht said nothing when the drizzle returned several minutes later. Had he hit a wrong note, upsetting Jesus?

During his musical sermon, Feucht characterized the stage as a “Shame-free Zone,” where worshippers could leave whatever ails them behind. Recently, a woman attending one of his services in Detroit came forward, leaving a white bag filled with drugs on the stage.

Implicitly acknowledging the controversy surrounding his ministry, Feucht first referenced drag queen story hour in the nation’s capital as a justification for preaching the word of Jesus in that same capital. If drag queens are OK in the nation’s capital, Feucht must be OK, too.

Controversy seems to follow Feucht around. Since late July, eight Canadian cities have revoked performance permits for Feucht’s shows, including Halifax and Quebec City. Montreal imposed a $2,500 fine because Feucht performed in a church without the necessary permit. Winnipeg denied Feucht a permit due to “operational challenges.”

One article I encountered indicated that the cancellations were due to safety and security concern, rather than Feucht’s message, but the given reasons may be pretextual. Feucht’s association with Trump and MAGA does not make him a popular figure in Canada. His views on LGBQT issues don’t help.

Feucht has also run into permitting problems in the United States, experiencing issues in Seattle and on the South Side of Chicago. During today’s event, he referenced a permitting problem in Chicago, but I don’t know whether the reference was to the South Side event. I didn’t get the whole story, but as I recall, city officials originally were going to prevent him from performing, but omeone intervened—the implicit suggestion being that that person in authority was a believer.

Returning to Daley Plaza, Feucht’s remark were littered with Chicago-specific references. Facing the nearby City Hall building, Feucht talked about murder, crime, and government failure. He then generalized those remarks to Blue-state urban areas, laying the blame squarely on fatherless households.

Feucht and Company’s attire was also Chicago appropriate. He wore a Michael Jordan jersey, two members of the band wore Chicago Cubs jerseys, and the drummer wore a Chicago White Sox jersey—he should know better than to mix the north and south sides—it’s a combustible combination. All looked like they were purchased earlier today. No ketchup, mustard, grass, or sweat stains. When I reviewed a video that captured one of his religious services in Los Angeles, Feucht was wearing an LA Dodgers cap.

For the most part, the service, concert, or whatever I witnessed made sense. But at one point, several people with large plastic bags began to circulate through the audience, handing something out. At first, I thought I would be receiving a commemorative button. I wanted one, particularly because souvenir t-shirts were selling for $35. When I reached in the bag, I didn’t pull out a button, but rather what looked like a pod used for cream in diners.

I am not sure I understood Feucht, but I thought I heard him say that the pod contained Christ’s blood. The last time I encountered Christ’s blood was at the Basilica of the Holy Blood in Bruges, Belgium. Miraculously, I was in the Basilica on a Friday, when officials display the crystal vile holding Christ’s blood. It liquifies on Fridays.

Today, I thought it would be down the hatch with the blood, kinda like a shot of tequila. To me, this possibility brought Catholic communion to mind. I asked one person standing at the merch tent who looked somewhat official whether Feucht was a Catholic priest. Nope, which he followed up with some gibberish about how Christ’s blood is universal rather than religion specific. As I watched Feucht handle the pod on stage, I waited for him to drink it, but I don’t think he, nor anyone else ever took a sip. I certainly didn’t partake. Apparently, there were no vampires in Daley Plaza.

Feucht brought a large merchandising operation with him. I had my choice of t-shirts, hoodies, banners, CDs, and a book authored by Feucht. His website also includes a page for donations.

Feucht’s ministry is incorporated as Sean Feucht Ministries Inc. It has not been rated by the BBB Wise Giving Alliance or Charity Navigator. Organized as a church, it is not required to file a Form 990 with the IRS. GuideStar’s write up includes financial data, which is described as being self-reported. On the income side of the ledger, the organization reported $7,552 in contributions, grants, and gifts, and $210,895 in program service revenue. Unfortunately, GuideStar does not identify the reporting period, so I have no idea whether this data is current. I can only speculate, but I am willing to bet that the merchandising revenue is not included in program services, which may mean that Feucht is running the merchandising operation on a for-profit basis.

On June 2, 2025, MinistryWatch published an article authored by Kim Roberts, entitled Sean Feucht Accused of Moral, Ethical, and Financial Failure by Former Leaders. Roberts reports that five former leaders of groups associated with Feucht issued a formal letter calling for an independent investigation into Feucht and his ministry, particularly with respect to financial matters.

MinistryWatch’s database didn’t rate Sean Feucht Ministries, but Feucht scored 19 out of a possible 100 points when it comes to Donor Confidence, leading Ministry Watch to recommend that potential donors “Withhold Giving.” For 2020—the most current year in the database—total revenue equaled $5,313,651 and total expenses were $1,123,493.

On a more positive note: Whatever Feucht is doing, it is working for the people I saw today in Daley Plaza. People were twirling, singing along, and praying. At times, many were visibly uplifted, almost in a state of transcendence. Nobody can fault Feucht for raising funds through donations and merchandising. The staging and sound system were first rate, which means he has invested a considerable sum in the operation. The question is whether he is being truthful with his followers and governmental authorities. I will leave that for others to decide.

I was also shocked by how I was received. I noticed three other photographers using professional-grade equipment. Two had stage access, so I assume they were part of the operation. The other was one of my photo buddies, who had a train to catch, so he didn’t hang around long. That left me, with three Leicas hanging around my neck.

I spent plenty of time at the foot of the stage, at times within a matter of feet of Feucht. I circulated freely through the crowd, as well as in backstage area, often taking close ups. Nobody gave me a dirty look, asked who I was, or told me to leave. We should have more Jesus if he makes people that cooperative and non-confrontational.

As for today’s rally, I would characterize it as the most important one I have covered this year—I believe I am at 76 demonstrations and marches so far. Being in Chicago means we don’t see any significant pro-Trump First Amendment activity. Feucht gave me the opportunity to see how the other half demonstrates.

But to be clear, that doesn’t mean I like what he is doing. Christian nationalism is highly problematic because it tampers with our country’s constitutional architecture. Religious freedom is the bedrock principle that inspired the country's founding, meaning that the religious realm should not mix with the civil one. Hoping to tear down the wall separating the two, Feucht and many Republicans want their religious beliefs to guide public policy. Those efforts must be rejected at all costs no matter how good Feucht might make his adherents feel.

[Click on an Image to Enlarge It. The Images Are Not Necessarily in Exact Chronological Order]