Estimated reading time: 4 minutes

Source: Listen Closely: Trump Wants to Be a ‘Messiah’ Figure for Evangelicals

The Details

Well, hold onto your hats, folks, because it seems like former President Trump has seen the light—nah, scratch that—he’s become the light, or at least that’s what he’s aiming for with the evangelical crowd. According to the riveting exposé we’ve stumbled upon, it appears that Trump is vying for nothing short of a Messiah status with those good ‘ole evangelical voters. We’re talking about a man who, if he walked on water, would probably try to sell tickets to the show. Heaven help us if he tries to turn water into wine, the vineyards will go bankrupt. The article paints a picture of Trump not as a president, but as a wanna-be divine figure for a group of people who, let’s face it, have seen better saviors.

The Breakdown

• The Second Coming of ‘The Donald’?
  Our boy Trump has apparently pivoted from reality TV star to presidential wannabe to a crusader for the righteous. I mean, if there was ever a sign of the apocalypse, this might be it. He’s casting himself in the lead role of ‘Messiah: The Comeback Tour’ and, ironically, the tickets are not selling out.
• A Halo with Golden Hair
  Imagine Trump with a halo—though it might look more like a neon sign flashing ‘Golf at Mar-a-Lago’. He’s aiming to be the sanctified shepherd to his flock, and the irony is so thick you could spread it on toast. Holy guacamole! Wasn’t this the same guy who thought ‘Two Corinthians’ was a sequel to a ‘Rocky’ movie?
• The Gospel According to Trump
  You’ve got to hand it to him, he’s got his own version of the gospel, where ‘blessed are the deal makers’ seems to be the beatitude du jour. Love thy neighbor? Nope. Build a wall. Turn the other cheek? More like turn the page in the playbook—because apparently the golden rule now includes a caveat for Twitter tirades.
• Evangelical Photo-op
  It’s like every photo with a Bible became a campaign poster. He’s not just looking for votes; he’s looking for disciples. Can we get an amen or at least a like and subscribe? If this were a sermon, it’d be broadcast on pay-per-view with the proceeds funding a Super PAC.
• The Sermon on the Mount(ing Debts)
  And let’s not forget about prosperity theology, where the Almighty Dollar is the one true god. Trump, being the patron saint of debt, surely knows his way around that altar. His acolytes aren’t just praying for salvation; they’re praying for a tax break. Divine intervention now has a line item in the budget.

The Counter

• St. Donald of Bankruptcy Court
  If sainthood could be bought in a bankruptcy auction, our guy Trump would outbid any celestial being with his otherworldly debt management skills. A miracle worker, indeed, if the miracle you needed was a Chapter 11 filing.
• Turn the Other Tweet
  Love thy Twitter follower; disown thy Twitter trolls. It’s the Trump beatitudes 2.0: The meek may inherit the earth, but only if they sign a non-disclosure and never work for the press.
• Render Unto Caesar Real Estate Deals
  And what about ‘render unto Caesar’? Well, that translates to tax breaks for the wealthy and loopholes you could drive a Trump-branded golf cart through. Praise the Lord and pass the depreciation!
• Fishing for Voters
  Loaves and fishes? No, my dear apostles, we’ve got red hats and promises as empty as the offering plate after a mega-church service. Feeding the multitude is cool and all, but have you tried feeding the Super PAC?
• Biblical Proportions of Irony
  If irony were a commandment, Trump would have shattered that tablet long ago. He’s not just the elephant in the room; he’s the elephant claiming he can make Goliath great again.

The Hot Take

So how do we fix the heavenly mess that is Donald Trump aiming to be the evangelicals’ messiah? Simple: Love thy neighbor, sure, but maybe also run a background check. Trust, but verify, especially if loaves, fishes, or the nuclear codes are involved. No more walking on water; let’s make him swim the political Tiber. While we’re at it, let’s upgrade our political saviors to someone who can quote the Bible without needing a teleprompter and at least respects the Sunday School version of the Ten Commandments. Humility might be too much to ask for, but how about a president who doesn’t think the Pearly Gates have a VIP entrance?