As a person of faith, I find it heartwarming to witness the piety with which our Republican leaders model spiritual values for the country.
It starts at the top, of course, with President “Two Corinthians” Trump’s social media depictions of himself – first as a pope, then as a Jesus-like figure delivering divine, hands-on healing to a reclining, apparently ailing figure. Who looks oddly like Jeffrey Epstein.
Faced with hostile blowback from those who somehow failed to appreciate the no-doubt totally innocent imagery, the ever-modest Trump said of the post that “I thought it was me as a doctor.” Then he deleted it. Always considerate of the sensibilities of others, is Trump.
But nobody’s fool, no sir. When the actual pope, Leo XIV, had the temerity to suggest that Jesus might well quibble over the justness of America’s and Israel’s “excursion” into Iran, Trump called it papal bull.
“Pope Leo is WEAK on Crime, and terrible for Foreign Policy,” he posted on Truth Social. Then he took credit for the accession of Leo – formerly Father Bob of Chicago’s South Side, go White Sox! – as the Vicar of Christ.
“He wasn’t on any list to be pope, and was only put there by the Church because he was an American, and they thought that would be the best way to deal with President Donald J. Trump. If I wasn’t in the White House, Leo wouldn’t be in the Vatican.”
We can all wonder, perhaps wistfully, on that “If I wasn’t in the White House” line. Meanwhile, I’m sure the pope must be gratified by the solid that was done for him by a man who isn’t even a Catholic. Or, so far as I can determine, of any other religious branding.
Not to be outdone, Vice President J.D. Vance – who is a Catholic, as of 2019 – took time from his program of coddling a Hungarian dictator and fumbling peace talks with Iran to school Leo on matters of Catholic theology.
Leo is of the considered opinion that Jesus was – indeed, is – a peacenik.
“Brothers and sisters, this is our God: Jesus, King of Peace, who rejects war, whom no one can use to justify war,” he said in his Palm Sunday address. “He does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war, but rejects them.”
Vance said, in effect, Hey, what about World War II? Because of course it and Iran are perfectly analogous situations.
“I think it’s very, very important for the pope to be careful when he talks about matters of theology,” Vance said, with a figurative wagging of the finger. Leo should “stick to matters of morality,” he said, somehow exempting war from those matters.
No doubt Leo – who holds a doctorate of Canon Law – was appropriately chastened by the author of “Hillbilly Elegy.”
And then we have Pete Hegseth, secretary of warmongering, delivering a “prayer” during a Pentagon worship service that he claimed was derived from the Book of Ezekiel.
It was in fact a near-verbatim repurposing of a rousing recitation by Samuel L. Jackson’s hit man character in the movie “Pulp Fiction.” But isn’t that just nitpicking? I mean, it’s one of the highlights of the film, and a signature moment in Jackson’s career. Good stuff. Can’t a guy borrow from the best?
Further down the Republican leadership pantheon we have several of Congress’s leading intellectual lights pointing out the proper relationship between the Land of the Free and followers of Islam. Like, say, basically all the Iranians we claim to be waging war on behalf of. Or who we’re intending to obliterate, depending on the day and Trump’s whims.
“Muslims don’t belong in American society,” Rep. Andy Ogles of Tennessee’s (stolen) Fifth District posted online. “Pluralism is a lie.”
Sen. Tommy “Coach who ran out on Ole Miss” Tuberville has shared his own enlightened views on the topic. “Islamists aren’t here to assimilate,” he tweeted. “They’re here to conquer. Stop worrying about offending the pearl clutchers. We’ve got to SEND THEM HOME NOW or we’ll become the United Caliphate of America.”
And let us not forget Rep. Randy Fine of Florida, who tweeted this: “If they force us to choose, the choice between dogs and Muslims is not a difficult one.”
Faced with such shining examples of godly compassion as these (and many others), we might well all wonder: What did we do to deserve such a blessing?
Joe Rogers is a former writer for The Tennessean and editor for The New York Times. He is retired and living in Nashville. He can be reached at jrogink@gmail.com