Canadian author Joelle Kidd's first book is a fascinating, unsettling exploration of the evangelical Christian pop culture of the 2000s, and its legacy in religion, politics and society today. Though dense and at times quite academic, it is an excellent book to read if you are hoping to unpick the origins of the religious bent of public life in North America and its inherent peculiarities.
Kidd, whose adolescence spanned the first decade of the 21st century, reflects on how she - like many of her peers in both Canada and the USA - has had to reckon with the fact that the political views and values which she has come to hold in adulthood 'radically clash' with the faith she was raised in. It is refreshing and illuminating to hear someone raised in evangelical Christianity calling out the messages of shame and hatred which have long been packaged in earnest, wholesome-seeming content - whether that be pop music, films, teen magazines or self-help books. Kidd offers a comprehensive interrogation of each of these sources, and makes a strong case for the straight line which can be drawn from evangelical pop culture to the policies of successive Republican federal governments promoting war-mongering, homophobia, xenophobia and Islamophobia and restricting women's rights under the guise of protecting American 'family values'.
After spending part of her childhood in post-Soviet Eastern Europe, Kidd was enrolled at a private Christian school in Winnipeg in the late 90s, and the early part of the book recalls the culture shock she experienced in being transplanted from a largely secular society to an entirely Christian one. This perspective allows her to evaluate the strangeness of Christian pop music, for example, in a way that may not be possible for a commentator who never knew any different. Certainly, as an English person who grew up loosely affiliated with the Church of England, I have never really understood the appeal of Christian music, film or literature when more-respected secular alternatives exist, but Kidd makes it clear that, for children and teenagers whose entire family, social circle and education is bound to their faith, it is only natural to consume this sanctioned culture. Certainly, pop culture makes sense as a natural expression of evangelism - how better to spread the Word to as many people as possible than with catchy music and shiny movies?
Kidd's credentials as a former evangelical Christian lend credibility to her arguments; she is not some prejudiced outsider trying to make trouble, but rather someone who has experienced first-hand the negative impact of this type of religiosity. Significantly, she is careful not to renounce her faith or her experiences of Christianity entirely, which might make her seem more of a disgruntled former devotee with an axe to grind; indeed, she speaks effusively about how she loved being a part of a community and how some of the people she loves most are still part of the evangelical Protestant church. One of the recurring themes of the book is Kidd's struggle to reconcile the teachings of a gentle, generous Jesus with the narrow-minded, hostile Christians she encountered growing up.
And why now? 'Just like the comeback of spaghetti straps and low-rise jeans, the 2020s seem to be cycling back into the same political territory,' Kidd writes of her decision to reflect on a decade that ended fifteen years ago. In a chapter on purity culture and complimentarianism (the idea that women and men have complimentary, God-given roles in the household, those of warriors, protectors and spiritual leaders, and submissive sexual servants respectively), Kidd traces the roots of these movements back to the 'muscular Christianity' of the late nineteenth century, itself a reaction to the expansion of women's rights and the subsequent perceived erosion of male dominance in society. Highlighting the tenets of this movement (manliness, morality, health and patriotism) underscores the relevance of having a conversation about 2000s evangelical Christianity in 2025: there is a clear connection between muscular Christianity over a hundred years ago, through the advent of the megachurch in the early twenty-first century to the politics of Donald Trump and RFK Jr today. It is impossible to untangle evangelical messages from those of the supposedly secular federal government; as Kidd writes, 'Evangelical Christianity is inextricable from American culture.' Evangelicals vote Republican so Republicans have to keep their support through focusing on key 'moral issues' such as abortion rights, marriage equality, prayer in schools and the separation of church and state. From there, issues such as the War on Terror in the early 2000s and the anti-immigrant sentiment of the Trump administration just become additional fronts in an anti-Christian culture war. Unless we reckon with the corrosive influence of evangelical Christianity now, history shows that we are doomed to see its power resurge over and over again.
This chapter unpicks the messages - insidious and overt - which Kidd and other girls of her generation were pelted with from all angles. Even in the secular world, the 2000s were a brutal time to be a young girl. It would have taken an unusually strong sense of self not to internalise the tabloid headlines about Renée Zellweger 'piling on the pounds' to play Bridget Jones or Martine McCutcheon's character's (normal, healthy) weight being used as a punchline multiple times in Love Actually. Then there was the pillorying in the press of young women who dared to date multiple men during their twenties, not to mention the hideous online countdowns to young female celebrities such as the Olsen twins and Hilary Duff turning eighteen and thus becoming 'legal'. It is harrowing to read about the ways in which young Christian girls were instructed
about purity, modesty, and gender compliancy, church leaders, teachers and evangelical authors, filmmakers and musicians cherry picking and deliberately misrepresenting Bible verses to hold women accountable for the sexual urges of men.
Jesusland makes it clear that these people are acutely aware of how to utilise evolving culture and technology to reach their intended audience - from pop music, magazines and message boards in the early aughts to podcasts and social media in the mid-2010s. Their messages are designed to empower young men to adopt an aggressive, authoritarian attitude to church and family and young women to submit to the masculine authority of God, their fathers and their husbands.
In this chapter, Kidd hands the mic to a variety of friends and acquaintances, each of whom has their own experience of purity culture making them feel inherently sinful for having normal biological urges, making them believe that they should have no expectation of sexual pleasure, and denying them the tools to protect themselves from abuse, infection and pregnancy. Though anecdotal, these dozens of accounts are powerful evidence for the author's assertion that she and her peers have been 'deeply, permanently affected - some even broken -' by this culture.
The rest of the book tackles a wide range of topics, including televangelism and prosperity gospel, and the Christian stand-up comedy to alt right pipeline. Each of the nine essays is meticulously researched, thoughtful and incisive, with some chapters incredibly ambitious in their scope. The essays are long, and some could have benefited from some editing to trim down unnecessary detail. Some readers may come to Jesusland expecting a more superficial riff on the author's memories of growing up evangelical and be put off by the depth and ambition of the book, but it is an incredibly observant, enlightening book which has left me with a far greater understanding of the subject.
Thank you to NetGalley and ECW Press for the opportunity to read and review an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.