On July 20, 1969, an estimated 650 million people — roughly 20% of the world’s population — gathered around television sets to witness history. Descending from a ladder out of the lunar module, Neil Armstrong stepped onto the surface of the moon.
His first words from the lunar surface immortalized for all time: “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” It was a statement of universal progress accomplished through a nationalistic endeavor represented in the personal experience of one individual. Armstrong viewed his first step onto the surface of the moon as not just a personal or national accomplishment, but a giant leap for all humankind.
Looking out at the earth, viewing all humanity in one fell swoop, is a paradigm-changing perspective.
Buzz Aldrin, who followed Armstrong down the ladder, wrote years later in his autobiography, Magnificent Desolation, “From space there were no observable borders between nations, no observable reasons for the wars we were leaving behind.”
For the first two men on the moon, their experience seeing the smallness of humanity within the cosmos all brought into perspective the smallness of human division and strife. What they did, they did as humans for humanity and when they left, they left a plaque that read “We came in peace for all mankind.”
The nationalistic origins of the space race
But that was not how it started. Space exploration did not begin as an endeavor to unify humanity. Rather, it was born out of fear and competition.
The Apollo 11 moon landing had its origin on May 25, 1961, when President John F. Kennedy delivered a speech to Congress titled “Special Message to Congress on Urgent National Needs.” The 46-minute message was a compendium of ways to beat the Soviets in a variety of fields — a coordinated national effort across the military, economic and technological spheres meant to assert American military dominance and ideological authority across the world.
The moon landing was at the center of Kennedy’s proposal: “I believe that this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the earth.”
His reasoning was based entirely on the Soviet dominance of space and his belief that Americans could win the Cold War battle for the stars. In a 1962 lecture at Rice University, Kennedy made those nationalistic aims even more evident. He said of space that “its conquest deserves the best of all mankind” — by which he means Americans — and American conquest in space was necessary for continued American domination on earth.
Of course, America’s fears that the Soviets would portray their dominance in space as evidence of their own superiority were absolutely true. From the Soviet perspective, the space race was deeply tied to national prestige, ideological superiority and the global credibility of Communism.
Yuri Gargarin, the first man in space, dedicated his first spaceflight to “the people of a communist society.” The Soviet government created propaganda posters that read “Glory to the Soviet people — the pioneer of space!” with a cartoon of Gargarin in a spacesuit with a hammer and sickle raised over his head.
Historian Peter Bond writes that Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev’s impetus for spaceflight was to proclaim “to the world the superiority of Soviet technology, as well as the communist system in general.”
Space was simply the next new front on which the Cold War would be waged.

NASA’s SpaceX Crew-9 members pose together for a portrait inside the vestibule between the International Space Station and the SpaceX Dragon crew spacecraft. Clockwise from left, are NASA astronauts Butch Wimore, Nick Hague, and Suni Williams, and Roscosmos cosmonaut Aleksandr Gorbunov.
(NASA photo)
From competition to cooperation
When Neil Armstrong stepped on the moon — and just as importantly, when he stepped back onto earth — the paradigm shift began. There could be no doubt that America had won the space race. But having glimpsed the finitude of man among the stars, having perceived humanity in its singular unity, could those reaching for the stars turn from competition to cooperation? Eventually, that answer became yes.
When Richard Nixon ascended to the presidency in 1969, he brought with him a policy of détente — a determination to ease the tension between the U.S. and the Soviet Union. In his inaugural address, he called the Soviets to collaborate with the U.S. in spaceflight, saying, “As we explore the reaches of space, let us go to the new worlds together — not as new worlds to be conquered, but as a new adventure to be shared.”
By 1970, NASA was coordinating with a number of international entities, and in 1972, the U.S. and the Soviet Union signed “The Agreement Concerning Cooperation in the Exploration and Use of Outer Space for Peaceful Purposes.”
In 1984, President Ronald Reagan directed NASA to begin the development of the International Space Station, saying in that year’s State of the Union that “NASA will invite other countries to participate so we can strengthen peace, build prosperity and expand freedom for all who share our goals.”
For the next decade and a half, space agencies across the world joined together to create something borne out of a united human endeavor. On Nov. 2, 2000, the ISS received its first resident crew consisting of two Russian cosmonauts and one American astronaut. To date, more than 290 individuals from 26 different countries have visited the International Space Station.
Evangelicals and outer space
Intertwined with this history are, of course, American evangelicals. From the very beginning, evangelicals were suspicious of space.
A.W. Tozer, writing for Christianity Today in 1953, lamented that “the quiet, anthropocentric world of the Bible is gone.”
“Intertwined with this history are, of course, American evangelicals.”
Paul Alderman, writing for Moody Monthly in 1959, lambasted the “stiff-necked pride of man as he brazenly seeks to invade the heavens, in spite of God’s ‘no trespass’ signs.”
Others held a much more grounded concern that space exploration was coming at the expense of funding domestic social concerns.
Moving into the 1960s, those concerns began to shift. When American space exploration gained an ideological competitor in the scientific atheism of the communist Soviet Union, evangelicals opinion changed, now seeing space exploration as part of the dominion mandate of Genesis. NASA scientist Rodney Johnson wrote an op-ed in the wake of the lunar landing calling it “a major new step in our dominion over the earth.”
American dominance in the space race also came to mean Christian dominance in the space race.
After the fall of the Soviet Union and lacking an ideological rival, evangelical interest in space exploration began to wane. As international cooperation in space exploration soared, Christian evangelical support for it began to crater.
A 2015 study found evangelicals were generally less interested in space and less supportive of spending money on space programs than other Americans. Political scientist JD Ambrosius evaluated religious Americans’ perspectives and knowledge of space policy and found evangelicals ranked lowest on knowledge, interest and support of space endeavors. They were the least likely to believe the space program is beneficial or to be optimistic about space travel.
But this would soon change.
Trump, evangelicals and space nationalism
There was one area in which American evangelicals viewed space exploration positively: American dominance and space nationalism. Ambrosius found evangelicals responded most positively to space exploration when it was framed in nationalistic terms — demonstrating American exceptionalism, increasing prestige, maintaining dominance or supporting national security.
In other words, evangelicals would by and large support space only when there was an enemy.
This perception of domination and competition flew in the face of decades of post-Cold War international cooperation. But when Donald Trump was elected president — mainly on the backing of evangelical Christians — that perception became the primary focus.

The Space Shuttle Discovery is the backdrop as Vice President Mike Pence speaks during the inaugural meeting of the National Space Council at the National Air and Space Museum, October 5, 2017 in Chantilly, Va. (Photo by Mark Wilson/Getty Images)
At the inaugural meeting of the newly relaunched National Space Council in 2017, Vice President — and evangelical Christian — Mike Pence spoke about how America had “ceded ground” in the space race, but under President Trump “America will lead in space once again.” He portrayed space exploration as vital for protecting national interests, saying “our nation’s prosperity, security and identity depend on American leadership in space” and “America must be as dominant in space as we are here on Earth.”
This is familiar language — echoing Cold War anxieties, Manifest Destiny, dominion theology and Christian nationalism. And it was crafted specifically to appeal toward generally space-adverse evangelical Christians whose support comes only with a focus on American — and implicitly, Christian — nationalism.
In 2020, JD Ambrosius revisited his earlier study to survey the Trump-Pence effect on evangelical views of space. He found evangelical enthusiasm for space rocketed during the first Trump administration. While evangelicals still lag behind other groups in knowledge, interest and policy support, those who considered themselves “very interested” in space had a relative increase of 30% over the Obama years.
The shift suggests that nationalistic rhetoric and political alignment may have made space exploration more appealing to evangelicals. Political scientist Andrea Molle writes, “The explanation for increased support of evangelicalism for space exploration does not lie in blind faith or objective importance but its connection and coherence with their brand of nationalism.”

Earth sets at 6:41 p.m. EDT, April 6, 2026, over the Moon’s curved limb in this photo captured by the Artemis II crew during their journey around the far side of the Moon. Orientale basin is perched on the edge of the visible lunar surface. Hertzsprung Basin appears as two subtle concentric rings, which are interrupted by Vavilov, a younger crater superimposed over the older structure. The lines of indentations are secondary crater chains formed by ejecta from the massive impact that created Orientale.
The dark portion of Earth is experiencing nighttime. On Earth’s day side, swirling clouds are visible over the Australia and Oceania region. (NASA photo)
Artemis II and returning to the moon
As I wrote this article, Artemis II wa reentering earth’s atmosphere after a 10-day journey that took its inhabitants around the moon and farther away from earth than any human ever had been before. The people on board represented a diverse and international coalition.
Pilot Victor Glover is now the first person of color to circle the moon; Mission Specialist Christina Koch is the first woman; Mission Specialist Jeremy Hansen is the first non-American. For the first time, women, people of color and, yes, even Canadians have gone where no human has gone before. Artemis II represents the pinnacle of a generation of collaborative and global space exploration.
“The rise of American space nationalism could threaten this great leap forward.”
And yet the rise of American space nationalism could threaten this great leap forward. When space exploration is framed as a competition between ideological and national factions, when it becomes a battleground for national prestige and military advantage, it risks the political, social and altogether human benefit of a world united to conquer a challenge bigger than ourselves.
Artemis — and the decades of collaboration that preceded it — is a testament to the value and efficacy of a humanity united across national lines. We cannot lose this. Rather than retreat into geopolitical rivalry that insists one country must be great at the expense of all the rest, we must use Artemis as the blueprint for a world united on matters of earth as well as space.
On Easter Sunday, while on board the Artemis II as it hurtled toward the moon, astronaut Victor Glover gave us this compelling word: “In all of this emptiness — this is a whole bunch of nothing, this thing we call the universe — you have this oasis, this beautiful place that we get to exist (in) together.” He continued, calling this time “an opportunity for us to remember where we are, who we are and that we are the same thing. And that we got to get through this together.”
We’re in this together. Those who have viewed Earth from the moon have all said the same thing. The way forward is together.
America — and American Christianity — now stand at a precipice. We can either revert to the regressive Cold War nationalism of the space race or continue to move forward with a shared, unified human identity as we explore the magnificence of God’s creation.
Josh Olds is a public theologian and pastor for those disillusioned with institutional church. He is the creator of the small-group video series “Year on the Mountaintop” and a featured contributor to Fostering Hope: A Prayerbook for Fostering and Adoptive Parents. Follow his work on Facebook or at JoshOlds.com.


