If Trump Sat Down with Jesus
I’m desperately trying to figure out what the heck happened in this state I call home on Super Tuesday.
The Google analytics for the search “how can i move to canada” skyrocketed following the announcement of results on Super Tuesday, and the central website for Canada crashed because of “high volume.” We want out. We are so confused.
I used to barely care about politics. My best friend is a passionate American, and I clearly remember when I told her I wasn’t registered to vote prior to our last presidential election. I thought she was going to have an aneurism. A few years into college, with no debt, no responsibilities, no direct understanding of the future, I actually believed it didn’t matter if I voted or not.
And now? I’ve got a three-year-old living in my home, I’ve got a bank account with a little bit of money in it, and I’ve got a worldview that has—praise God—expanded a bit since my college years.
I’m just genuinely devastated. Not because my guy didn’t win. Whatever. Not because a man who is full of hate and full of bigotry exists in this world. We shouldn’t be surprised
I’m devastated because of those who are following his lead. The evangelical leaders (I’m looking at you, Falwell) seemingly disregard his ignorance, and it’s simply appalling. Our country seems so infatuated with his extremism that they’ll lay aside all rational to follow him. I’m hurting for my brothers and sisters who are targeted by his antics. I want to hug each Mexican and Muslim and every other minority, and I want to tell them that they are so welcome here.
But my hugs and my hurts won’t change what might happen in November. We’re just living in a really terribly deprived world.
So what do we do from here? What do we do when there’s a real chance that a man committed to casting out those who are different than us could take office in less than a year? What do we do when we look at the future and collapse with worry for the world in which our children will grow up? What do we do when hope for a better tomorrow seems far-fetched?
We rest in the hope of Christ. He is the King of kings, the ultimate Judge, the only One with true power, and the Savior of the universe.
What else do we do? We ponder what a conversation between Jesus and Trump would look like. And we laugh. Because honestly? I feel like we all need a little giggle in the midst of this madness.
And maybe…just maybe…Falwell will get his hands on this and reconsider his endorsement.
“I’m intelligent. Some people would say I’m very, very, very intelligent.”
“I have black guys counting my money. … I hate it. The only guys I want counting my money are short guys that wear yarmulkes all day.”
“Donald J. Trump is calling for a total and complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States.”
“Laziness is a trait in blacks.”
“When Mexico sends its people, they’re not sending the best. They’re sending people that have lots of problems and they’re bringing those problems. They’re bringing drugs, they’re bringing crime. They’re rapists and some, I assume, are good people, but I speak to border guards and they’re telling us what we’re getting.”
“I don’t have a racist bone in my body.”
“I am the least racist person there is. And I think most people that know me would tell you that. I am the least racist.”
“You know who’s one of the great beauties of the world, according to everybody? And I helped create her. Ivanka. My daughter, Ivanka. She’s 6 feet tall, she’s got the best body.”
“… she does have a very nice figure. I’ve said if Ivanka weren’t my daughter, perhaps I’d be dating her.”
At this point in the conversation, Trump would storm out in a rage, screaming: