Worship leader Sean Feucht was praising his twin heroes on Twitter after the Supreme Court announced its decision to eliminate a constitutional right to abortion: CONQUERANCE IN JESUS!!!! THANK YOU, PRESIDENT TRUMP! He AA1, soon AA2.
Even in this moment of conservative victory, though, the 38-year-old praise singer flashed danger, berating as satanists the Americans who would soon be protesting the overturning of Roe: “When the devil’s sacrifice is no longer protected by our Supreme Court, watch how his followers scream.” The following morning, Feucht appeared to support vengeance against Roes supporters as well. He tweeted, “Goliath is dead!!!” It’s time to pursue the Philistines!
John Christopher Sean Feucht sits at the confluence of extreme right-wing Christianity and the MAGA movement with a flowing mane of golden hair and an American-flag guitar signed by the 45th president. Feucht is a holy roller on stage, leading adoring masses in worship songs. Weeping penitents, minor miracles, and brand-new disciples of Jesus diving into baptismal tubs are all present throughout his ceremonies. Feucht is an holy troller online, flaming his opponents and criticizing woke culture for the amusement of his fans.
Feucht (pronounced Foyt) shot to fame in MAGAworld with a fiery concoction of piety and resentment. In 2020, Feucht organized a countrywide tour of protest revivals in opposition to pandemic limitations on in-person religious services, which drew ardent crowds of worshipers and harsh criticism from public-health officials. As Covid’s constraints loosened, Feucht effortlessly switched to yelling at the purported groomers at Disneyland.
Feucht’s mix of Christian zealotry and own-the-libs rhetoric is striking a chord. According to recently made public IRS data, the formerly modest praise singer is not just growing his national fame, he’s raking in enormous amounts of cash. Sean Feucht Ministry Inc. had a massive increase in revenue from $280,000 in 2019 to more than $5.3 million in 2020 as a result of the publicity of his 2020 Covid-lockdown protests, concluding the year $4 million richer than it had begun. (The accounting for this spike is puzzling: the ministry claims to have received no money in contributions, despite the fact that Feucht actively sought out such donations.)
Feucht, who is the only employee of the ministry according to tax forms, also appears to have seen a rise in personal wealth, which has ministry watchdogs scratching their heads. According to property documents seen by Rolling Stone, the preacher recently purchased two opulent residences, one in an exclusive gated enclave in Southern California and the other on five acres in Montana, valued at more than $2 million altogether.
Using a ministry to live the high life, if that is what Feucht is doing, is not only unsightly, but it may also be against the law, according to Warren Cole Smith, president of Ministry Watch, which investigates religious groups on behalf of contributors. Smith claims that he is not claiming that Sean has engaged in secret inurement. But if a man who earns less than $200,000 a year is purchasing numerous million-dollar residences, at the very least, that raises further concerns.
The ministry and its board members did not respond calls for comment on these financials. Feucht did not respond to a lengthy correspondence that was sent to him.
Feucht is gaining ground in Washington, D.C. thanks to his recent fortune and notoriety. Reps. Marjorie Taylor Greene and Lauren Boehbert and Feucht rushed to the Supreme Court’s steps after the Dobbs draft judgment leaked this spring in an effort to rally the court’s reactionary majority against proponents of reproductive rights.
Longtime supporters of Republican political movements, most notably the Trump train, include evangelicals. Feucht, however, is blatant in his assertion that Christians themselves ought to take control of the political system of the country. People gripe that political issues shouldn’t be affected by biblical truth. He recently sent an declared0 to church leaders, stating, “I disagree, and I believe it is time for believers to start setting the terms of the battle!”
According to Shawn Schwaller, a history professor in California who analyzes right-wing extremism, including Feuchts, Feucht aspires to destroy the partition separating church and state. He claims he intends to further a far-right Christian nationalist agenda. He is standing with the loudest voices in Washington promoting that agenda, whether it be declared1declared2 or declared3.
Additionally, Feucht established a spiritual beachhead in the nation’s capital. In yet another astounding real estate translation, his ministry paid almost $1 million in May for a brick row home on Capitol Hill that Feucht is renaming Camp Elah after the valley where David faced Goliath and was unafraid. Feucht is adamant that Camp Elah will be a hub of constant prayer, mobilization, and ministry with lawmakers to reveal God’s plan and purpose for their lives.
Samuel Corum/Getty Images
However, as Feucht works to change the MAGA movement in the name of Jesus, he is also becoming into Trump. Fuechts’ personal goals seem to be becoming more similar to those of the prior presidents these days, featuring a flurry of campaign-style events, tireless fundraising, and unrestrained luxury.
In return, Feucht is utilizing Camp Elah to generate more money. With click-to-give buttons for amounts up to $2,000 and a toggle box to turn this into a monthly recurring payment, its declared4 webpage more closely resembles the declared5 of a political candidate. Feucht recently urged his almost 500,000 Facebook fans to donate in order to meet Our Big May 31 Fundraising Deadline!
Co-religionists do not question Feucht’s beliefs, but they are worried by his course of action. Adam Perez, a postdoc at the Duke School of Divinity under the influence of declared6 Feucht, claims that the more well-known and wealthy he becomes, the more he is able to influence politics. However, he continues, many Christians see the pursuit of the Holy Spirit and the Mighty Dollar as being in direct opposition to one another.
Is this God’s creation? Perez inquires about Feucht’s ascent. Or is this the influence of money, which we all know is the source of all evil?
Given that Feucht is a relative newbie on the national stage, it’s probable that these recent months represent his pinnacle. But if he manages to stick around, he could represent the MAGA movement’s future, one that fuses Trump’s aggressive authoritarianism with Mike Pence’s desire for theocracy and a passion that could keep the movement alive long after Trump leaves office.
Kindle Baptism
Deep within the Amazon, Feucht’s own religious epiphany took place. In his biography Brazen, due out in 2020, Feucht recalls going with his father on a riverboat medical mission to isolated river settlements in Brazil when he was 12 years old. The missionaries provided medical aid as well as faith healing to people suffering from demon affliction.
Feucht was inducted into the charismatic Christian tradition as they made their way upriver, which embraces the supernatural aspects of the faith and looks for face-to-face encounters with the Holy Spirit. The most incredible miracles I’ve ever seen, according to Feucht, were there! includes the recovery of a blind woman throughout that journey. He adds, “As soon as we began to pray, I saw the cataracts slip off her eyes like scales. It was astounding!
If Feucht has reservations about missionaries’ unsettling ties to imperialism and colonialism, he doesn’t address them in this euphoric account of the journey. Each night, he writes, the tribes lined the banks of the river, presenting gifts to express their love and gratitude for our team. They were cured, saved, and delighted.
In the presence of what he describes as a whole unreached tribe of people who had just dedicated their lives to Jesus, Feucht decided to be baptized in the river’s waters by his father at that point. Feucht recalled that the natives were clad in white robes. When I came to the surface, the tribe was singing, fish were swimming around my feet, and I felt the weight of God’s presence.
The son of a dermatologist, Feucht was born in Montana in 1983. Until the age of 10, when his father became interested in missionary work, he resided in Missoula and worked for the Pat Robertson-founded charity Operation Blessing. Feucht spent his boyhood in suburban Virginia, where he excelled on the football team and met the high school sweetheart he’d later marry, instead of traveling with his father.
Feucht felt driven to serve as a Christian soldier in war-torn Afghanistan after graduating in the wake of 9/11. Lacking a trustworthy translator when traveling with other missionaries, Feucht brought his guitar to isolated mountain settlements. He writes that God’s presence was always present as the power of music brought us together.
Feucht quickly enrolled in Oral Roberts University in Tulsa, Oklahoma, a school that has given rise to a long list of well-known megapreachers, like declared7 and Joel Osteen. At a university teeming with young men of God, Feucht started holding all-night prayer revivals in his dorm room, giving a brand-new baptism by fire. He was desperate to stand apart. These gatherings soon developed into 24-hour long marathon off-campus praising sessions known as the Burn by Feucht and his adherents. We were aware that it would undoubtedly be misunderstood and that it might seem cultish, but we didn’t care, he writes.
Feucht traveled with the Burn as a young adult, residing in a 1998 Camry, in order to light prayer furnaces in many cities and towns from Louisiana to Oklahoma. Feuchts’ faith was put to the strain while he was living hand to mouth, yet he talks about being visited at a Texas church. He writes, “I saw the Lord’s eyes flaming with a fervent and envious passion.” The event, he adds, “reoriented my theology” and made him feel as though he was on a divine mission.
Gratitude and blessings
Feucht exudes a cool Californian vibe. He is tall with red cheeks, wide-set blue eyes, and his signature swoop of golden hair.
According to D.L. Mayfield, a writer on religion who also grew up in the charismatic church, “Hes absolutely tapping into Christian music history the Jesus hippies of the Sixties and Seventies.” Feucht’s gentle exterior conceals his severe political and theological views, nonetheless. Mayfield claims that the hair is the only thing he has in common with that Jesus movement.
Feucht doesn’t really oversee a church. It could also be tempting to write him off as merely a praise musician. However, according to Perez, a divinity expert at Duke, music isn’t just an extra in charismatic religious practices; it’s the major attraction. The Holy Spirit is brought into action through singing praises to God. According to Perez, as you give God honor, God’s blessings descend. You’re letting God’s power loose. You’re making prayer practical.
Feucht acquired a music contract with Bethel Music, the label of a charismatic megachurch in Redding, Northern California, in 2016, after touring through communities in Tulsa, Dallas, and central Pennsylvania. In 2019, that gathering gained notoriety for an excessive attempt to operationalize prayer by attempting to take declared8 literally.
According to Mayfield, the idea that one has the ability to control God’s might is both alluring and harmful. She claims that the central issue with charismatic Christianity is its obsession with power. They truly spiritualize things when they talk about using God’s power for your own good. However, that inevitably spills over into politics.
According to Perez, these groups all believe that God is capable of engaging in spiritual work as well as physical conflict. This worldview interprets legislative conflicts as contests between spirits. According to Perez, if pro-abortion legislation were to pass, it would be evidence that demonic forces are at work in Congress. He continues by saying that the faithful regard themselves as employing their Christian weapon against the forces of evil.
HONOR IS OUR ARMOR
Sean Feucht, declared9 (@seanfeucht)
Politics after the pulpit
Feucht’s electrifying debut into the national stage is a nearly perfect summary of contemporary Republican politics: He launched a campaign that failed to gain the support of the general public but attracted the attention of Donald Trump, the person who mattered the most.
After an accidental encounter with the 1988 campaign manager for Pat Robertson, who said, “We need a long-haired, Jesus-loving worship leader in there,” Feucht made the decision to run for Congress in 2019. Feucht restarted his life and decided to run for office after interpreting this act of ego-stroking as prophecy. Feucht ran a carpetbagger campaign for California’s Third District, located far to the south in the exurbs of the Bay Area and Sacramento, as Redding’s House seat was already held by the GOP.
Feucht used racism as a campaigning tool while railing against low morals, excessive taxation, and the sacrifice of the unborn. A young white woman in an American flag was featured in one adding0 with the question, “If we lose our identity, how will others learn from our greatness?” Feucht believed he could win the presidency by appealing to millennials and churchgoers. However, he lost the Super Tuesday primary. Feucht wrote, “Is this the recompense for putting everything on the line to follow what we believed to be the voice of God?” He was devastated.
Looking back, it’s obvious that Feucht has received a reward for his efforts, but it wasn’t from God. Someone in Washington took notice of his campaign, and in December 2019, Feucht and other religious figures were invited into the Oval Office to provide support to a distressed president. Due to his decision to withhold funding from Ukraine while looking for information against Joe Biden, Trump was facing his first impeachment. Feucht adding1, we’ve just just touched him. It resembled a sincere, fervent prayer. That was so crazy!
Groomers’ Protesting Lockdowns
Equally bizarre was the turnabout that occurred after Feucht’s election disaster. His passing happened right when the Covid epidemic struck hard. Far from being through with politics, he quickly created a new group called adding2 with the aim of inspiring believers all around the country to defend traditional religious principles in the face of what he called the “garbage fire of hate, division, and wokeness.”
Feucht resented the epidemic limitations that had restricted church singing and devotional services in general. In defiance of public health officials, Feucht started a series of prayer meetings that he staged as demonstrations against tyranny in the government. Feucht trollishly targeted locations where Black Lives Matter demonstrators were still holding demonstrations for an end to police violence, including the George Floyd memorial in Minneapolis, CHOP in Seattle, and downtown Portland, causing controversy and media attention. He pledged to turn these places where there had been riots into revivals.
In Oregon, Feucht invited adding3 to serve as protection while he allegedly expelled demons from Portland’s downtown. He warned potential counterprotesters that they would eventually run into Jesus in a negative message.
THANK YOU to our security crew in Portland tonight (seen in partiality).
All of them are former members of the armed forces, police, private security, and, most importantly, LOVERS OF JESUS AND FREEDOM.
You will meet Jesus in some way if you interfere with them or our ability to worship God under the First Amendment. adding4
Sean Feucht adding5 (@seanfeucht)
adding7, the infamous Proud Boys brawler, and at least one other charged adding6 offered their services as volunteers for his security team. Satan, we argue, has no real estate! adding8 Feucht Portland’s downtown is not accessible. Not a single block of this metropolis is yours. The Lords reside in this city!
Feucht quickly nationalized his tour under the name Let Us Worship. Feucht declined to give an interview for this piece, but after a brief Twitter exchange, he mocked Rolling Stone for an earlier article about his epidemic concerts: The real miracle, however, will be if no one contracts the coronavirus, your rag stated in this piece. Of course, nobody noticed. Do you still think miracles happen? Feucht’s claims about the coronavirus were unsupported by evidence.
The Let Us Worship tour came to a close with a September 2021 performance on the Mall in Washington, which also happened to fall on the 20th anniversary of 9/11. For this performance, Trump himself recorded an adding9 in which he praised Feucht for bolstering our entire country.
As the outrage over the Covid restrictions subsided, Feucht seized the chance to join the protests once more when Disney attacked Florida’s discriminatory Don’t Say Gay law, which effectively outlaws gay life in public schools. As if they were the gates to hell, Feucht protested at Disney World’s entrance. In an satanists0 with the Christian Post, Feucht maintained that we cannot permit the sexualization of our children or the indoctrination of transgenderism by perverts.
Feucht claims that his revivals offer satanists1 because he views LGBTQ people as unwell. He recently said in an interview that our ministry is one of the only places where every altar call includes the statement, “Hey if you’re struggling with same-sex attraction, if you’re in the middle of transition therapy, God wants to cure you.”
Feucht urged his supporters to sign a petition at satanists2 in order to channel the fervor generated by his demonstrations, and he believes that tens of thousands have in fact done so. However, there is no content for a petition at that link. Instead, it’s a portal for providing Feucht with your name, email address, and mobile number. You are prompted to give a sizable donation on a thank-you page. When you move your pointer, a pop-up window warns: WAIT, BEFORE YOU GO. Without your help, we cannot win this battle; we urgently need your assistance!
Do Feucht’s Trumpian cash-grab techniques indicate who he really is? He’s simply such a blatant thief, says Mayfield. It seems that some folks will get the idea.
He makes money.
Feucht’s purportedly religious endeavors have become more and more dependent on raising money, and it would seem that he is skilled at it. According to Chico State professor and extremism expert Schwaller, “He’s always selling something or asking for donations.” He makes money.
(Following his conversation with Rolling Stone, Schwaller published his own satanists3 of Feucht’s financial situation for a small North California news website; he separately reported on Feucht’s recent home-buying binge and surging ministry earnings.)
Feucht was earning six figures prior to capitalizing on his Covid-lockdown protest. The most notable of Feucht’s three nonprofit organizations is satanists4. Additionally, he oversees satanists6, which is devoted to global missionary activity and worldwide relief, and satanists5, which is his project for disseminating his spirit furnaces.
In 2020, Feucht received pay from these three groups totaling around $180,000. In contrast to last year, Sean Feucht Ministries Inc. also gave Sean Feucht a $48,000 housing allowance. Public records also show that Feucht benefited from lockdown bailouts, securing an satanists7 with a value of more than $21,000, despite spearheading a national protest movement against Covid lockdowns.
The most recent financial filings from Sean Feucht Ministries have experts scratching their heads. Speaking fees and honoraria make up the vast majority of Sean Feucht Ministries Inc.’s $5.3 million in revenue. According to Smith, the president of Ministry Watch, it wouldn’t be unusual for a religious leader of Feucht’s stature to receive invitations to make guest appearances at megachurches around the nation for up to $100,000 each. He is undoubtedly receiving appearance fees like a touring rock star.
The fact that Fuecht, who places donation buttons on all of his websites, informed the IRS he got no donations in 2020 is even more puzzling. However, an examination of open Venmo transactions reveals that the Fuechts ministry received at least 250 donations over the course of a week in July 2020. According to Sarah Webber, an accounting professor at the University of Dayton who specializes in nonprofit financial reporting, it appears a little suspicious. How could you build up a website to accept donations from individuals but not “report” any donations?
Feucht now uses any hint of controversy as an opportunity to raise more money. Feucht sent an email to his donor list requesting funds to assist us withstand these impending onslaught after Rolling Stone requested an interview with him and later visited Camp Elah, which he had marketed as an open house.
According to Smith, who describes a perverted connection between prosperity-gospel Christian ministries, political action, and Christian nationalism, Sean has found out how to profit from the evangelical industrial complex. He continues, “You can make money if you can draw crowds.”
Feucht is experiencing an uncharacteristic period of abundance at the same time that his ministry has brought in millions. He acquired a four-bedroom vacation property in Montana’s Flathead Lake in February 2021 for $745,000 that was built in the style of a log cabin. He purchased a $1.6 million home in Coto de Caza earlier this year; this gated community is best known as the setting for the first season of The Real Housewives of Orange County.
Even some of Feucht’s supporters now disagree with him about his jet-setting lifestyle. Feucht responded to critics by writing: Lol after he released a video on Instagram informing his family of five that they would be traveling to Maui. Some people need to relax because they are humorous. I won’t be traveling to Hawaii with your donations. I’m using up my flying miles on lodging. My family merits it.
Feucht, however, recently shared videos taken by satanists8 at the upscale Hotel del Coronado, close to San Diego. He also received a black-tie invitation to view the satanists9 at Mar-a-Lago in May.
Feucht doesn’t seem troubled by such riches and power incongruities. Feucht has no harsh words for Trump, who is notorious for hosting a teen beauty contest, hanging out with child sex traffickers Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell, and motorboating Rudy Giuliani in an vengeance0 sketch. Feucht has promised to despise groomers who sexualize minors.
Feucht, like many devoted right-wingers, believes that Trump’s alteration of the Supreme Court—which has now killed Roe—covers up his own immorality. What if Trump didn’t succeed in deceiving Evangelical Christians? Feucht tweeted in response to the abortion decision, “What if they received exactly what they desired and had hoped for. vengeance1
Images from Carolyn Kaster/AP
Seattle Hype House
Feucht started the biweekly Hold the Line vengeance2 to strengthen his ties to conservative leaders. On it, he has interviewed senators like Josh Hawley of Missouri, MAGA congresswoman Lauren Boebert, Ted Nugent of Oath Keeper, and Turning Point USA’s young reactionary Charlie Kirk. Additionally, he has endorsed far-right Pennsylvania gubernatorial candidate Doug Mastriano (vengeance4) and Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis (vengeance3).
Feucht has developed a close relationship with his vengeance5 Instagram friend vengeance6 Boebert, who also supports his plan for a Christian takeover of Washington. I’m tired of this separation of church and state nonsense, Boebert said at a worship service in Colorado on the Sunday after Roe’s decision. The government is meant to be governed by the church. The following Tuesday, when Boebert won the GOP primary for her district, Feucht was also present, filling in as the congresswoman’s house band for her celebratory victory party, where Trump made a phone call to wish her well.
However, Feucht’s Washington outpost Camp Elah isn’t living up to its expectations at the time, at least not yet. In May, Feucht celebrated the house’s grand opening. Nevertheless, despite the fact that Feucht uses it as a means of earning money, it frequently remains vacant instead of being a 24-hour hub of religious zeal on Capitol Hill.
On May 17, two weeks after the leaked draft of the Supreme Court’s judgment overturning Roe was published, Feucht made the first public announcement of Camp Elah at a rally in front of the court. With regard to his D.C. outpost, Feucht stated, “I feel like we’re taking back territory.” This is the time of year when we recover the things the adversary has taken.
The row house was purchased that day by Sean Feucht Ministries from the Republican congressman’s chief of staff. Approximately two dozen people may be seen performing the song I Exalt Thee in Camp Elah’s living room in a contemporaneous YouTube vengeance7, with Feucht providing the musical direction on an acoustic guitar while sporting a red Reverse the Curse of Roe t-shirt, Nike high-tops, and jeans.
In advance of the Roe reversal, Feucht boasted a month of prayer walks from his new place of worship to the Supreme Court, which is only a short distance away, during the launch. Feucht announced that it would take place from this residence. We will pray all around this building and send out intercessors until the formal decree is revoked.
However, observers from the area claimed that pilgrimages from Camp Elah took place only infrequently. No one arrived for the scheduled midday meeting on a few occasions. On other days, a few people would knock on the door but receive no response, so they would turn back and go. On a day in late May, when Rolling Stone arrived at lunchtime, the home was deserted.
However, when Rolling Stone visited camp Elah again the following month, it found a solitary group of worshipers. Two men and a woman stood in a circle and lowered their heads on a fake oriental rug in a living room that was otherwise empty. The woman read from Exodus because she needed to be reminded that God, not people, determines results, she claimed. She didn’t mention Roe or abortion once during the brief time she spent praying out loud, but she specifically addressed the justices in her prayers. The group took a few seconds to reflect before starting their two-block stroll to the high court’s stairs.
Feucht advertised a celebration before the high court on June 27 as the culmination of his fervent prayers on his Instagram account for weeks. When the time came, however, just a small group of believers showed out to dance with Feucht and his band on a gloomy and sticky Monday. However, Feucht’s ability to create eye-catching images for his hundreds of thousands of social media followers seemed to be more important than this banal fact. He wrote in an Instagram vengeance8, “We just ended an hour and a half of crazy, joyful thanksgiving here on the steps of the Supreme Court,” urging his followers to forgo political correctness and rejoice in what God has accomplished.
However, something else occurred that morning that illustrated the power that can be cultivated and exercised from a D.C. row house, as well as the damage that may be done to the separation of church and state as a result. Peggy Nienaber of the ministry Faith and Liberty, a local ally of Feuchts, assisted him in planning the courthouse concert. After the music stopped, Nienaber was overheard on tape boasting about how her organization, which has been operating out of a row home behind the Supreme Court for decades, prays with the justices, claiming that they are the only ones who do that.
In Washington, D.C., the blending of politics and religion has long been sought in whispered discussions. Feucht wants to ford those streams in broad daylight so that he may brag about it online. Nienaber and company might soon face off against one other in a contest of guitar strumming if Feucht gets his way and Camp Elah understands the potential for spiritual conflict.
