James Talarico isn’t the only Democratic candidate making faith a calling card of his campaign this year.
In Michigan, Abdul El-Sayed will face Haley Stevens in the Democratic primary for U.S. Senate Aug. 4. In a fundraising letter this week, he highlighted his Muslim faith in a way seldom seen among Democratic candidates.
But this is a year in which Democrats nationwide are more freely talking about religious faith, especially to counter the influence of evangelicals on Republican politics.
In addition to Talarico, who is a Presbyterian minister, other examples include:
- Rob Sand, who is running for governor in Iowa. The state auditor has referenced his faith on the campaign trail and has used his faith to support various positions.
- Adam Hamilton, pastor of the nation’s largest United Methodist church, is running for the U.S. Senate. His campaign emphasizes biblical themes of human decency and compassion.
- Matt Schultz, a Presbyterian pastor in Anchorage, is running for Alaska’s lone seat in the U.S. House. He has said part of his calling is to “feed the hungry, comfort the grieving and stand up to bullies.”
- Sarah Trone Garriott is a Lutheran minister running for the U.S. House from Iowa. She has said, “I think people are realizing that there’s been a vacuum that was created by well-intentioned people not talking about how faith and politics intersect, and the vacuum was filled by the religious right.”
- Lindsay James is a Presbyterian pastor running for state representative in Iowa. She told MS NOW: “Folks are exhausted by politics. They’re longing for someone to just be authentically them and lead from a place of conviction.”
At least nine Christian clergy are running for office in this year’s election cycle. What makes El-Sayed’s story different is that he’s a Muslim speaking openly about faith at a time when Republicans are awash in Islamophobia.
In his latest fundraising email, El-Sayed begins: “One of the aspects of my candidacy that has become a key focus, like it or not, is my faith. Whether or not people want to say it, when they raise questions about my ‘electability,’ they are usually pointing to the most obvious thing about me that makes me ‘different,’ that’s my name and my Muslim faith.”
Abdul El-Sayed’s supporters hand out lawn signs after a rally. (Photo by: Jim West/UCG/Universal Images Group via Getty Images)
His faith does make him different, he said. “Faith, to me, isn’t just about an identity. It’s about the choices that I make every single day about how I live my life. I wake up, usually between 5:30 and 6:00. I wash up in preparation for my morning fajr prayer. At 6:00 a.m., every single day. That’s the first of five times every day I pray. It’s a spiritual practice that reminds me that I am accountable. I am accountable to my belief, to the people I love, to the people I serve, and to a future I hope to be a part of building.
“My faith has also shaped the paths I’ve walked. In college, you’d sooner find me in the stacks in the library at midnight than at a party. I met Sarah, my wife of 20 years, through the Muslim Students’ Association. We got married soon after — we were 21 and 19. Even then, it was so unusual that the school paper wrote a headline article about it!”
El-Sayed is an epidemiologist and former public health official and academic. He was director of the Department of Health, Human and Veterans Services of Wayne County, Mich., from 2023 to 2025. He previously ran for governor.
“My faith has also taught me how to be comfortable with my differences.”
“My faith has also taught me how to be comfortable with my differences. I know what it’s like to be discriminated against,” he said. “Before I ever ran for office, I knew what it was like to have my intentions questioned, my choices scrutinized, and my every word picked apart. Because that scrutiny didn’t start when I ran for office. I’ve been under scrutiny since I can remember, in every room where I am ‘the only.’ And I’ve always known that I won’t be held to the same standard as everyone else, but that my bar will be higher because of my faith. And yet the same faith that’s exposed me to scrutiny has offered me the discipline and accountability to withstand it.”
That has made him a better candidate for public service, he contends: “Being different has also taught me not to judge others for how they might be different. It teaches you a particular kind of empathy. We all deserve the dignity, security and goodwill to chart our life’s path without being told we are less than, or not worthy. We deserve that regardless of who we are, how or if we pray, how we love, how we identify, or where we grew up.
“That is the politics I am fighting to build. A politics of empathy, where dignity is not reserved for some of us but guaranteed to all of us, in our health care, our paychecks, and our communities.”