Regarding Donald Trump’s Christianity . . .
I suppose I should be grateful that he’s promised to “protect Christianity.”
But–silly me–I think a man who has verily lusted over his own daughter’s “great body” (to Howard Stern among others) may not be the right guy to protect the faith tradition and the moral integrity of the USA.
I wish he’d make some effort to be Christian before he anoints himself as its Guardian-in-Chief.
Jesus warned us to beware the wolves in sheep’s clothing.
I’m of the belief that if a wolf says he’s a sheep, he’s a wolf. He’ll gladly don a sheep’s skin for his stealth advancement into the Shepherd’s pen.
Then he’ll fire the Shepherd.
I’ll swear, this is a guy who wants to be Christianity’s Boss Hawg.
He should be issuing red caps that say “TRUMP! MAKING CHRISTIANITY GREAT AGAIN!”
Improving on Christianity is a heavy duty but he’s out to do it and is very capable.
He’s built a great, great company, by God!
He’ll make Christianity a great company and protect its interests.
He’ll be God’s CEO! Assuming he doesn’t fire God in a hostile takeover!
Can I get an Amen! and a Merry Christmas!
If Donald Trump is a Christian–and his being baptized entitles him to at least identify as one–he’s the Christian equivalent of a greedy, free-wheeling, irresponsible capitalist who knowingly dumps toxic chemicals into rivers and streams for his own gain.
Which is to say that Trump is polluting the Christian stream in order to gain the highest office in America, all the while purporting to be as pure in heart as the lamb of God.
He’s poisoning the baptismal Christian waters–the rivers and streams and the very wells from which all Christians drink. If he’s being a Christian–if he’s the best we have to “protect Christianity” (which somehow endured for 2,000 years without him) I’ll take my ticket back.
Agnus Zurbaran’s “Lamb of God”‘
I know, I know! It’s bad Christian form to question or judge somebody else’s Christianity!
Unless it’s the Christianity of Barack Obama, a Christian who’s steeped in the theology of Reinhold Niebuhr, a 20th Century theologian and political philosopher whose many books are required reading at a seminary near you.
We all know Obama is, in truth, a Kenyan. This we know because Donald Trump has always told us so, and Donald Trump wouldn’t say anything if it weren’t the honest-to-God truth.
Donald in a seriously creepy photo with his famous, Playboy cover girl/daughter Ivanka and his famous gold parrots having sex. He’s spoken often of her “great body” and noted he would maybe have dated her if he weren’t her father. This may not be the right person to “protect Christianity.”
Seriously, I’m still trying to get over his doing and saying this kind of ungodly stuff:
— insulting the entire nation of Mexico and the Mexican people with the caveat that “I assume that some of them are good people”;
— mocking a disabled man (somebody help me understand what kind of Christian gets a laugh trashing a disabled American, and then denies that he was mocking a disabled American, in spite of obvious evidence);
— characterizing an opponent as “a p-ssy” at a public event, complete with impressionable children watching mommy and daddy cheer him on (what do you suppose the gentleman Republican icon Ronald Reagan would think of this role model?);
— cracking about a news broadcaster’s period and fixating with hate on the broadcaster–a conservative newswoman, no less–ever since (though he assures us women love him, and the record shows that many have, inside and outside of marriage);
— ranting just the other day about a protester he so much wanted to punch in the face! (so much for the Christian ethic of turning the other cheek or loving your enemies; Mr. Trump is not one to dwell on the ethics of the Sermon on the Mount–he seems to want to conquer the Mount and re-do the Sermon);
— arousing a crowd by noting he could shoot somebody on 5th Avenue and would still be blessed by his followers, who obviously think he can do no wrong (what kind of Christian imagination imagines shooting somebody on 5th Avenue and being revered for it?);
“The Donald” told another respectable conservative news broadcaster recently that he will start acting presidential “at the appropriate time.”
I suppose that means he’ll stop conducting himself like a thug and start behaving something like a gentleman and a decent human being who likes people and brings leaders from around the world together to solve problems. Maybe that’s too much to ask for a President in a country where people are living in so much fear of each other and the world.
A country where Jerry Falwell Jr.–a self-anointed guardian of Christianity if ever there was one–brags about packing heat in the pulpit in case the Muslims storm the Falwell Empire that money-grubbing TV evangelism built.
But the question this delayed “presidential appropriateness” raises in my mind is: when exactly is an “appropriate time” to walk, talk and behave like a Christian?
Where in God’s name and Donald Trump’s Bible that he’s taken to waving at adoring masses does it say it’s OK to fudge on your Christian walk until such a time as it’s appropriate?
Why is it so hard for Bible-thumping Trump to at least begin to incarnate the most basic tenets of Christianity?
— Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
— Love God with all your heart, mind, body and strength, and love others as you love yourself.
— Thou shalt not lie and commit adultery (and if one does, repent and seek forgiveness from God and others).
This is a man who lies hourly.
No, more like when those lips move, unceasingly.
The bizarre thing is, everybody knows it. And millions of Christians give him a pass on it.
I realize that lying blatantly or by omission, deception and attacking other people’s integrity and character–these are the unspoken tenets of politics.
But Trump’s the Grand Poobah of political deception.
He just yaps on and on and on.
And and his yap is usually something really, really bad about somebody he really, really doesn’t like, which is half the people in America, if not the world.
But now–with all that said–I don’t doubt that there is really, really a lot of good in Donald Trump’s heart. Obviously his family adores him and a lot of people–kinder, gentler people who’ve known him personally for a long time –speak well of him and his good side.
Putin, BTW, thinks highly of his strength and the Don met Putin in a TV Green Room once and likes Putin a lot and doubts that he ever poisoned any political rivals. He once trashed reporters because Putin’s never been adjudicated for killing anybody; how unfair can you get, librul media, and anyway, what kind of Russian Orthodox Christian would kill somebody?
And BTW, they’re indeed both baptized Christians and Putin has the blessings of Mother Russia’s church and Trump has the blessings of a Falwell and a lot of rich, high-living evangelists.
But–honestly–all this cynical snideness I keep lapsing into aside–I don’t doubt that he, Donald Trump, has a really good side.
And I mean that.
I’ve observed that when Donald Trump’s better angels bubble up into that weird imagination and he says he wants to provide equitable health care to all because “a lot of people have nothing at all” and “we can’t let them die in streets,” it has the ring of sincerity.
If I could have a minute or two with Donald Trump alone, I’d tell him I respect him for caring about the health of all Americans, for wanting to “take care of people” and their medical care and God bless him for it. Even though (call me hyper-critical and some do), wanting to “take care of people is a trifle paternalistic.
But then I’d plead with him to think about the damage he’s doing to the integrity of Christianity and ask him to remove the doubts I have about the sincerity of his Christian walk by asking all the masses of people he has hurt to forgive him.
I’d plead with him to repent and redirect himself toward the narrow gate, to build some kind of great big beautiful bridge, for once in his life, that brings people together in God’s grace.
I’d tell him nobody, above all God, needs him to protect God.
Then I’d grab him and say a quick prayer over him.
Then I’d run like hell lest he punched me in the face or called in the goon squad.
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