Dunkirk: faith transcends politics in Ohio The pastor listens carefully as Ryan strides across the platform, a crisp outline of white shirt and hair gel firing off answers and and greeting each wave of applause with an outstretched hand. Afterwards, King's reaction to his first election rally is muted. "Ryan seemed very competent and approachable but I would expect him to be," he says quietly, explaining that he would have voted Republican anyway unless the vice-presidential candidate was "really crazy." His shrugged response is typical of many voters in this crucial battleground state. Every four years Washington comes to them, saturating their airwaves and looking for votes. But even when campaign circus comes to Ohio, presidential politics can still feel a long way away from places like Dunkirk. "Sometimes I couldn't tell you if the election was this year, or if it's next year or if it was last year," says Colby Rush, a 21-year-old university student who juggles work at his parents' ice cream shop with coaching the middle school football team. Over coffee at a strip mall outside of Lima, I try to prod King a little more about the rally. He essentially agrees with Ryan's analysis that the deficit is spiraling out of control but perhaps there is still time to reverse America's decline. "Any family can look at their own finances and think 'We're spending too much, something's going to crash,'" he says. I think we're at that point as a country. But did the music and the waving signs and the rallying speeches leave him fired up about November's contest? "I won't go singing into the polling booth," he offers apologetically. Pastor Gregg King (right) speaks to a fellow Christian in Lima Our political conversation lists onward and King says that the slumping feeling in the United States traces back to far before Obama, perhaps as far as the Vietnam War, when he declared himself a conscientious objector. And then we turn from talk of elections to questions of faith. And everything changes. The subdued pastor is suddenly animated as we approach the intersection between religion and politics, a destination Ryan steered well clear of as he spoke from the stage. King tells a story about a friend who taught an abstinence-only sex education programme, encouraging teenagers to avoid sex entirely entirely until they were married. The friend received federal funding under the Bush administration but lost its grant after Obama took office, with the money apparently diverted to Planned Parenthood, a pro-choice healthcare group. It's a long way of saying that the difference in view point of the Obama administration had an effect in Hardin County. Things that happen in Washington sometimes change things around here real quick," he says. The same is true of gay marriage, a social milestone that once seemed unthinkable but now seems unstoppable after the President endorsed it earlier this year. "Gay marriage has made big strides under this administration and will probably continue," says King. We see that as not Godly, we see that as against what God counsels in the Bible for us. The former factory worker is far from the brimstone preachers often seen on television and he sounds saddened as he notes how the issue of gay marriage has pitted so many Americans against each other. It would be nice to be able to say 'Hey, that's ok, let's all be friends,' but at some point you have to draw the line and say this is wrong, we can't condone it. King says that if churches "offer the truth in a loving way" then he believes that gay people can give up their homosexuality, a statement that prompts me to ask whether he knows many gay people. His answer is wrenching: he has a close family relative (who he asks me not to identify) who is gay and to whom he no longer speaks. "I still love him but I also say 'This is not a good lifestyle, there are dangers here and God sees it as wrong,'" he says. I hate that it's like but I can't not believe what I believe. Because I want the best for him in their life I will not condone what I see as a destructive lifestyle. King stares into his coffee, saying finally: "It's very painful" To some, his views will seem extreme. But they are spoken with earnestness and at every stage he appears to try reconcile his faith with his instincts towards inclusiveness. I ask whether he thinks there is a danger that on issues like gay marriage he may one day be judged to have been on the wrong side of history. "I can see how that may happen," he agrees. But that's just part of the Christian faith - no matter what else changes the word of God doesn't change.