The video is presented like a documentary, with a voice-of-God narration as if suggesting the profundity of what’s ahead.
“And on June 14, 1946,” said the narrator, “God looked down on his planned paradise and said: I need a caretaker, so God gave us Trump.”
It was a satirical take on a 1978 speech by a famous radio broadcaster. It didn’t turn out funny and the video was just beginning.
“God said, I need somebody willing to get up before dawn. Fix this country. Work all day. Fight the Marxists. Eat supper. Then go to the Oval Office and stay past midnight. And a meeting of the heads of state. So God made Trump,” the narrator continued and for several more minutes spoke of the divine blessing that is America’s 45th president.
And just like the thousands of pronouncements by the former president, the reel was a cacophony of absurdity and lies.
In 2016, eight out of 10 voters who identify as “white, born-again, evangelical Christians” voted for Trump to become president. The same group voted for him by the same percentage in 2020. This year, they are expected to give him once again an overwhelming majority of their vote. The US presidential elections have already begun due to early voting but is officially slated for Tuesday, November 5.
The borderline fanaticism of American Evangelical Christians (white or not) for Donald Trump doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It was incubated over a generation.
What began as a formidable coalition where Christians dominate in every sphere of society has evolved into a diverse assemblage of high-profile religious leaders with megachurches, TV networks, publications, and other platforms at their disposal to tout their political beliefs. These leaders have tapped into causes that would animate sincere devotees of Christ by conjuring that those who disagree with their stance are evil and enemies of God. In the rhetoric of their activism, abortion and gay rights are the ultimate sins corrupting the soul of the nation.
The origin, as well as the motive behind the rise of the Religious Right, a coalition of conservative American Evangelicals and religious fundamentalists, is debatable. One camp asserts it was the result of a right-wing political strategy with racist roots, which co-opted the symbols and reach of American evangelicalism to create a voting bloc for the Republican party. Another view informs it was a vigorous response by the faithful to government overreach.
Regardless, this amalgamation of entities and people has used the name of God and the symbols of the Evangelical faith as tools to amass power and advance an agenda where the dominant thought and perspective is only Christian. The coalition’s leaders have created the equivalent of a military-industrial complex to cause their followers to believe that the godly way to engage in the public square is to stay right of the political spectrum. Or, to put it simply, vote Republican. Supported by right-wing media, which touts conspiracy theories and affirms xenophobic, supremacist, and bigoted sentiments, they dominate an echo chamber where their perspectives are packaged like gospel truths.
“You cannot say you believe in Biblical principles and vote for the principles of the Democrat party,” said Charlie Kirk, a young conservative political activist in a seminar, “they’re incongruent They do not fit.” He proceeds to highlight two pet issues of this coalition: restricting abortion and gay rights. He absolves the amorality of the former president by using an Old Testament figure, Samson, as an example, that God uses the imperfect, unrighteous.
Trump, for the likes of Kirk who now represents this coalition’s new generation, is the ultimate defender of the Christian faith and the one who will bring to reality the fruition of the Religious Right’s aspirations. This is why the overturning of Roe V. Wade which helped restrict abortion in America was a cause for mass celebration by Evangelical leaders, with Franklin Graham, one of the world’s most renowned Evangelical leaders and son of Christian icon and evangelist Billy Graham, described the Supreme Court decision as “one of the most significant rulings of my lifetime.”
It is also why over 10 years ago, there was an outcry from the same swath of Christendom when the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) was struck down by the Supreme Court, which paved the way for same-sex marriage to be recognized legally across the federal government. “My thoughts on the SCOTUS ruling that determined that same-sex marriage is okay: ‘Jesus wept,’” tweeted Baptist minister and former Arkansas Governor Micke Huckabee, whose daughter served as Trump’s White House press secretary.
The idea that Trump is the man of God for the moment is incompatible with the leadership Jesus exemplified where humility, sacrifice, and moral clarity were evident in his ministry to the least, last, and lost.
Dominionism and evangelicalism
As multiple iterations of Christian traditions were birthed thanks to the 16th-century Protestant Reformation instigated by a German monk, the term evangelical was born. In the Philippines, we are a minority and are associated with the term “born again” or even simply “Christian,” a colloquial stand-in for a non-Roman Catholic believer. We’re known for our upbeat worship services in spaces devoid of statues of saints or Marian symbols.
A belief system committed to spreading the good news of salvation because of what Jesus Christ did on Calvary, evangelicalism was supposed to be the middle ground between fundamentalism and liberalism, where Biblical scholarship is given significance and healthy debate is a hallmark trait. Where, I dare say, deconstruction and the persistent questioning of one’s belief are part of strengthening one’s faith.
But over time, new concepts were introduced to our belief that it was not about following Jesus and obeying his Greatest Commandment — to love Him with all our being, to love others as we love ourselves, or to fulfill His call to make disciples. Instead, it was about taking dominion, expanding power and influence so we could institutionalize our values, without considering how it would marginalize those who don’t subscribe to them.
It’s this quest for power, presented as a divine assignment or even God’s will, which caused many Evangelicals to believe that a twice-impeached former US president charged with criminal activity, who has derided minorities and immigrants publicly, hurled antisemitic (anti-Jewish) and Islamophobic statements, praised America’s enemies, charged with 34 felonies, is God’s choice to become the leader of the free world.
The thought is pure heresy and a far cry from the Christ-like character we must desire or at least hope and demand from a leader. – Rappler.com
Caleb Maglaya Galaraga is a freelance writer and journalist. His work has appeared in Christianity Today, The Presbyterian Outlook, Broadview Magazine (formerly The United Church Observer), Times of Israel, and the news services of The Episcopal Church and The United Methodist Church. He lives in New York City.
