Freedom Con featured CrossFit contests, an obstacle course, and a tire‑changing station, alongside prayer, music, and a sermon from pastor Mark Driscoll and a tactical‑gear vendor known as the Warrior Poet. Speakers urged the crowd to run for office, have more children, and reject what they described as “woke secular gay paganism.”
“Heterosexual, sober men who marry women and read the Bible—we’re the new punk rock!” Driscoll declared, prompting a standing ovation.
More than 4,500 men gathered in central Washington over Father’s Day weekend for a testosterone‑driven celebration of Christianity and patriotism, concluding with a call for conservative Christian men to “rise as statesmen.”
Attendees arrived with sons, pastors, brothers, hunting buddies, and Bible‑study friends.
The two‑day event took place just outside the small town of George, Washington, amid America’s 250th‑anniversary celebrations. The mix of political mobilization, worship, and male bonding offered a glimpse of an emerging right‑wing movement centered on masculinity.
Rick Slaughter, 44, camped with a group of eight men and boys from Orting, Washington. On Saturday they posed for a photo on a lawn overlooking the Columbia River, flanked by the Washington state flag and a banner proclaiming “JESUS IS KING.”
The men belong to a Promise Keepers‑affiliated group, an evangelical men’s ministry that surged in the 1990s and has recently re‑emerged with a sharper political focus. They used the trip to hear political candidates and well‑known pastors discuss what they see as a Christian man’s civic responsibilities.
“We’re trying to be better men,” Slaughter said. Many participants have become sober and entered marriage counseling since joining the group. Slaughter, who was previously accused of attacking Capitol Police during the Jan. 6 riot, said the charges were “a lot of lies.”
Driscoll, who resigned from the Seattle megachurch he founded over a decade ago, has returned to prominence as evangelical circles have embraced his confrontational style in the Trump era. He now leads a large congregation in Scottsdale, Arizona, and commands a substantial online following.
His Friday sermon linked the early books of Genesis and Exodus to contemporary American politics, portraying the Tower of Babel as a warning against globalism and describing an entity confronted by Moses as “the transgender god of Egypt.”
“New days, old demons,” he said. “If you’re not angry, you’re not paying attention.”
Many of the featured pastors lead politically active churches closely aligned with the Trump administration. Some used the platform to promote new political and educational institutions, signaling ambitions that extend beyond purely spiritual aims.
Grace City Church in nearby Wenatchee, Washington, organized the event under the Stronger Man Nation men’s ministry, both founded by pastor Josh McPherson. McPherson has prayed for former President Trump in the White House and now runs a popular podcast and an “anti‑woke” college he envisions as a “Protestant West Point.”
Topics on the main stage ranged from traditional social‑conservative issues such as abortion and gender identity to state‑specific concerns like housing prices and construction costs, which far exceed national averages.
“Even young men like me, who want to be providers, start families, and live righteously, are crushed by the weight of tyranny,” said David Prince, a student at McPherson’s new college, during a Saturday presentation with other Gen‑Z men.
Another recurring theme urged conservative men to remain in “blue” states rather than relocate to friendlier jurisdictions such as Texas.
“A weekend like this injects hope into good men who feel sidelined, as if this is a David‑versus‑Goliath battle in Washington,” said Russell Johnson, 40, pastor of a growing Washington church network. “If all the good guys leave, the state gets worse.”
Johnson challenged attendees to use their influence for meaningful causes.
In a rousing Saturday‑night sermon, he urged Washington men to stay put.
“This place is worth fighting for!” Johnson declared. “No matter how far you’ve gone or how many mistakes you’ve made, when God speaks, darkness trembles and God’s people advance.”
Republican state representative and pastor Nate Schatzline, speaking on an afternoon panel, noted that many of his church’s small groups organize outings to speak at local city‑council meetings. Another panelist reminded participants that Washington churches can now collect ballots for congregants, a practice once viewed skeptically by Republicans but now more widely accepted.
Schatzline, 34, also runs an organization that mobilizes churches to support local conservative candidates and train others to run for office. The group operates in four states, plans expansion to 28 by year‑end, and its home church, Mercy Culture, has opened an outpost in Washington, D.C.
“The GOP isn’t perfect, and we need reform, but the church must stop complaining about the GOP when we refuse to engage with it,” he said. “We consider the GOP a partner in this fight.”
Afterward, dozens of men gathered at the stage to speak with him.
Grace City pastor Adam James called Schatzline a “rising star,” likening him to Charlie Kirk.
James, who is running for a state House seat in central Washington, offered direct policy recommendations from the stage. He urged support for conservative candidates for five open Washington Supreme Court seats and promoted “Bible‑believing” candidates for several legislative races, including the seat he hopes to claim from an “establishment” Republican. He also announced that a petition to repeal the state’s new income tax had gathered enough signatures to appear on the November ballot.
Many attendees took away a call to focus on down‑ballot races and midterm elections.
“Everyone shows up to vote for president, but no one shows up to vote for a dog‑catcher,” said Kenny Blight, 38, a member of Slaughter’s Promise Keepers group. “I want a biblical dog‑catcher.”
Women were scarce on the grounds, limited to volunteers from Grace City Church (and one journalist). Volunteers paid $55 each; general admission for men was $199.
“God created men for a purpose—they’re providers and protectors,” said Marcy Lyon, 55, who was volunteering with her teenage daughter. “When they bond, it helps them stand up.”
A small pergola on the hill served as a women‑only listening area. A whiteboard read: “Ladies — please be considerate and enjoy this space quietly. We want to minimize distractions so our men can listen.”