Señor Trumpanzee— As Thin-Skinned And Aggrieved As King Herod?

Bishop Mariann Budde Sure Appears To Have Vexed The Tyrant

Trump’s small, petty response to Bishop Budde's sermon displays a classic combination of projection, grievance and an attempt to discredit a perceived adversary by attacking both her character and professional competency. Instead of addressing the content of the sermon, he resorted to typical Roy Cohn ad hominem attacks, labeling the bishop as “nasty,” “not compelling or smart,” and “not very good at her job,” in his desperation to shift the focus from substantive critique to personal denigration.  By bringing up unrelated issues like “illegal migrants” and a “giant crime wave,” Trump introduced— again, Roy Cohn style— classic red herrings. These topics are designed to steer the conversation toward his familiar talking points, deflecting from the original critique. Empty phrases that resonate with his moron base, like “radical left hard-line Trump hater” and “giant crime wave” amplify his sense of victimhood while vilifying the opposition in exaggerated terms.

Señor T’s immediate response to criticism almost always involves framing himself as a victim of unfair attacks. His comments about the bishop being “nasty” or “ungracious” mirror common critiques of his own rhetoric, suggesting projection and by asserting that the bishop and her church “owe the public an apology,” Trump attempts to place himself in a moral high ground, trying to reassert control over the narrative and position himself as a figure who can demand accountability from others. 

The disparagement of the service as “boring and uninspiring” reveals a broader tendency to devalue anything that doesn't center or praise him. It reflects a fragile ego that struggles to tolerate dissent or neutrality and the patently absurd reference to the bishop being a “radical left hard-line Trump hater” is consistent with a worldview where opposition is interpreted as a personal vendetta or ideological conspiracy. His response is, of course, not about engaging with the content of the sermon and more about reinforcing his own narrative of persecution while undermining her credibility. His transparent reliance on deflection, hyperbole and personal attacks underscores whatwe’ve all seen as a deep-seated need for validation and a difficulty in confronting criticism constructively— a textbook example of how he transforms even minor critiques into opportunities to fortify his “us vs. them” worldview.

This morning, John Pavlovitz reminded his readers that MAGA Christianity is anti-Jesus and suggested people ask Jesus about that and their “hateful heresy. The immediate flood of vitriol directed at the Bishop,” he wrote, “by Trump supporters in the wake of her impassioned message directed toward President Trump regarding empathy for the vulnerable isn’t surprising. That’s what happens when these people are faced with the teachings of Jesus: they respond like vampires to daylight.”

One MAGA congressman from Georgia, far right lunatic Mike Collins, demanded— Nazi style— that the New Jersey-born pastor be placed on a deportation list. “Trump Christians,” wrote Pavlovitz, “despise the Revered for the same reason they despise all ministers who confront them with the Gospels. I’ve experienced it for a decade and their outrage now is familiar and predictable. The venom I and fellow Trump-confronting ministers receive from professed followers of Jesus who identify as MAGA or Republican or Evangelical is completely understandable, though. As they fire-off threatening texts, furiously tap out expletive-laden emails, and break into violent, performative histrionics on social media, I genuinely feel for them… They're coming face to face with the sobering reality that they are completely antithetical to Jesus.

But ultimately they aren't hearing that news from us— they're hearing it from Jesus.

All we need to do is quote him and that really sets them off.

There are few things that confound and infuriate Conservative Christians quite like the simple, clear, unadorned words of Jesus as documented in the Bible that they so loudly and frequently claim to love, believe in, and live by.

It's almost miraculous:

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Matthew 5:9

When you're part of an antagonistic movement built almost exclusively on a self-righteous battle posture; on a theology and politics that require an enemy, an adversary, an encroaching danger, a culture war foe to be brutally defeated— the idea of being a peacemaker really pisses you off. MAGAs don't like peace. They refuse to coexist with it. They cannot abide it.

Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me. Matthew 25:45

The poor, the outcast, the hurting, the hungry, the homeless, the lonely. Jesus said he literally inhabits the most vulnerable among us, and that the way we treat them is the way we treat Jesus himself. That's a really disturbing reality when you spend so much of your time denying people healthcare and cutting social programs and assault voting rights and legislatively attacking people for their sexuality or their nation of origin or their pigmentation. The news that (according to Jesus), you’re devoting a great deal of your life to treating him like garbage— tends not to be received too well.

For God so loved the world... John 3:16

The world. God loves the world. That includes the planet, the climate around it, the resources within it, the disparate humanity and expansive life upon it. No America First. No "Go back where you came from" nationalistic bluster. No, "Don't Tread on Me" middle-finger defiance. If you so love the world as God does, you fight for diversity, you welcome immigrants and foreigners, you demand environmental responsibility, you want more people to have voices, not fewer. When America becomes your world—you're opposing God.

“Put your sword back in its place,” Jesus said to him, “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Matthew 26:52

That's the part of the oft-quoted story that gun-loving Christians never want to read: the part where Jesus reprimands his disciple who uses a weapon to defend him, and reminds him and those listening, that his people will not be a people of retributive violence; that they will be those who shun force and turn the other cheek and resist harming others and de-escalate conflict. That is a really hard truth for the NRA, God and Guns, Come and Take It crowd, who really want Jesus to be cool with their instigating, posturing bloodlust— and who have to hear straight from Jesus that he isn't.

‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. Matthew 22:37-39

Loving your neighbor. Jesus says unequivocally that this is the priority and the point, and the way we show our love for God: the way we treat other human beings. When Conservative Christians realize that this includes their Muslim neighbor, their transgender neighbor, their Jewish neighbor, their Liberal neighbor, their uninsured neighbor, their undocumented neighbor, their black neighbor— they usually don't react very well. When you aren't able or willing to practically or tangibly extend love to such a vast portion of your neighbors in any meaningful way, that is a difficult theological pill to swallow.

Literally nothing is as MAGA as watching a bunch of self-righteous frauds who pretend to give a damn about Christianity, viciously attacking a minister preaching about caring for the vulnerable while their rapist-felon messiah condescendingly scoffs at her.

Honestly, I feel sorry for people who want to be both Christian and MAGA, who think they can be devoted to Jesus and to Donald Trump simultaneously, who labor under the false assumption that their bastardized, territorial, self-centered white nationalist GOP version of Christianity is remotely of God.

And I know that the actual words of Jesus are the most triggering of any they could be faced with, and so the ugliness these words generate aren't surprising and neither is their scalding rage toward those of us who regularly share those words with them.

MAGA friends out there, I'm not saying this white Republican theocracy built on power, exclusion, and subjugation that you're tethered to is anti-Jesus, and that you’re failing him by worshipping someone like Donald Trump.

Bishop Budde isn’t saying that, either.

Jesus is saying that.

If you have a problem with that, take it up with him.

For moral clarity, her sermon and Trump’s response should be compared to historical instances where religious figures have spoken truth to power, evoking hostility from those in authority, shedding light on the recurring tension between prophetic critique and authoritarian defensiveness. In our own lifetimes, Dr. Martin Luther King faced relentless criticism from right-wing politicians and racists who labeled him as a “troublemaker” and accused him of stepping out of his lane as a pastor. When he wrote the Letter from Birmingham Jail, addressing the “white moderate” who criticized him for being “ungracious” and disruptive, it highlighted the same dynamic: a religious leader pointing out systemic injustice, only to be attacked for their tone or methods. Earlier, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German theologian, spoke out against Hitler and the moral failings of the church under Nazi control. Like Bishop Budde, Bonhoeffer was accused of politicizing religion and faced significant personal attacks. His inspirational sermons threatened a criminal regime built on control and propaganda, just like how Bishop Budde's sermon appears to challenge Trump’s framing of moral authority. Americans may be less aware of how Archbishop Óscar Romero denounced the violent oppression of the El Salvadoran government, calling for justice and human rights from the pulpit. He was labeled a communist and a traitor, reflecting the same pattern of vilifying religious leaders who challenge systemic power structures, and then murdered by the American-backed military dictatorship. 

Any of this remind anyone of how John the Baptist criticized Herod Antipas for his moral failings, resulting in imprisonment and brutal execution? Herod's reaction parallels Trump’s: rather than engaging with the substance of the critique, the response was one of suppression and vindication. Trump echoes a long history of deflecting criticism by invoking fear-based narratives that excite and animate his base.

No one probably ever mentioned it to Trump but in the prophetic tradition, religious figures call out injustices and demand accountability, often standing at odds with those who hold power. These critiques are rooted in moral conviction rather than political expediency, making them inherently threatening to authoritarian leaders who rely on control and obedience. Trump’s response to Budde exemplifies a familiar pattern: rather than engaging with the ethical substance of the critique, he resorts to dismissive and defensive rhetoric. This reaction aligns him with historical figures who resist moral challenges to their own detriment, as such dismissals elevate the credibility and visibility of the prophet-like figure they seek to discredit. Bishop Budde’s sermon places her in a long tradition of religious leaders speaking truth to power, a role that always attracts hostility from those unwilling to confront uncomfortable truths. Trump's response, while characteristic of his style, echoes the reactions of historical leaders who sought to silence dissenting voices, highlighting the timeless tension between prophetic critique and authoritarian defensiveness.