You can tell it’s Easter weekend around here, because I’m writing this Easter column, prepping the food and yard and house for Easter dinner, setting out my prettiest dress and Easter bonnet for church, instead of doing what the Lord usually calls me to do this time of year: to shad fish like my life depended on it. As Jesus said in Mark 14:7: “The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have shad, who’ll be gone by mid-May at the latest.” (Loose Fisherman’s Bible translation.)
The run of hickory and American shad has kicked off around some of our local waterways for the next month-and-a-half or so. I took my first eleven the other day in the Potomac, setting them all loose, as always. And though at least one-third of Jesus’s disciples were fishermen, including his MVPs Peter and John, and though I am following in their hallowed tradition — albeit with a fly rod instead of a drop net — I am doing my Christian duty by taking a time-out to write this piece, making the sacrifice, just like Christ did. (His resurrection, after making the ultimate sacrifice, being the reason for the season.)
Which is not to say I’m a messianic figure. Though I have noticed some similarities. Jesus was a carpenter, I used to listen to the Carpenters in the early seventies. (Or my parents did. I was three, and didn’t have much say in the matter.) At a wedding, Jesus turned water into wine. When I go to weddings, I drink wine like it’s water. Likewise, both Jesus and I had some of our best work behind us by our early thirties.
Still, I apologize straightaway for the above headline, which employed a little dramatic license. I don’t speak for God, who has managed to get along throughout eternity just fine without my assistance. But since everybody else pretends to speak for him these days, I thought I might give it a whirl.
Which, speaking of blasphemers, is why I’m now in the writing stirrups, rather than honoring our Lord and Savior by catching Easter fish. For everybody’s favorite gold-sneaker-salesman has now repurposed himself into a Bible salesman. Donald Trump decided to honor Holy Week by doing what he does every week of the year — making it all about him.
Several days ago, Trump announced in a video, via his ironically-named Truth Social platform, that he was partnering with his good friend, the washed-up country star Lee Greenwood, to promote the God Bless The USA Bible. “Who doesn’t love his song ‘God Bless The USA?’” Trump asked. I raised my hand at home. I’d rather eat a roomful of sugar cubes than endure that saccharine musical overdose yet again. But I suspect it was a rhetorical question. Yet Trump plowed ahead with his Bible-comes-to-Branson announcement.
The MAGA Bible can be yours for an inflationary $59.99. Was there a supply-chain backup on God’s Word, otherwise? Because the Gideons still give Bibles away for free. But of course, Gideon Bibles don’t come in handsome brown leatherette with a rippling Stars’n’Stripes illustrating the cover. Unlike the new MAGA Bible, they don’t come with copies of the Bill of Rights, the Declaration of Independence, the Pledge of Allegiance, and a copy of Lee Greenwood’s handwritten chorus. It even comes with the Constitution, which as Trump in his Bible infomercial says, he’s “fighting for every single day very hard to keep Americans protected.” (Fact check: In a 2022 Truth Social post, Trump actually advocated terminating the Constitution due to his fake-news allegations of massive election fraud.)
Still, in the Trump/Greenwood Bible’s website FAQ, the question is asked: “Is this Bible officially endorsed by President Trump?” The answer? (Even God himself must be waiting with baited breath.): “Yes, this is the only Bible endorsed by President Trump!” Sweet Jesus, what a bargain!
Sorry, Gideons, but your Bibles just aren’t MAGA enough.
Trump goes on in his infomercial to say that the Bible is “my favorite book.” It’s right up there, apparently, with The Art Of The Deal and Hitler’s collected speeches. Though some sources close to Trump doubt he’s ever read a book, even the ones he’s “written.”
Also, not to be rude, but Trump doesn’t seem all-that-familiar with his “favorite book,” even as he voices the need to “Make America Pray Again”:
But I am rather familiar with it. I was raised Southern Baptist. I’m still an “evangelical,” whatever that means these days. I went to Christian schools for most of my early life, and was often assigned to memorize large hunks of the Bible at the risk of getting demerits, and suffering after-school detention, where I’d be forced to memorize more Bible.
And you know what? I don’t resent that in the least. God bless the teachers who drilled it into my head. Because it helped me. For the Bible is indeed a great book, full of strange stories, and miracles and wonder, and deep wisdom. And I’m glad, sometimes, the wisdom in it comes to me like a War on Illiteracy flashback (the only war I’ve served in) when least expected. Like when I need to write about how anti-Christian so many people are who defile my religion while pretending to practice it. Such as when I detail the evils of Christian Nationalism and how Christians who pimp it are doing more to hurt Christianity than any atheist ever has. Or how too many pastors have found a new gospel, a politicized one, instead of the one espoused by O.G. Jesus himself, which prized gentleness, and humility, and was about love, instead of hate, fear, and paranoia.
I have been ridiculing Donald Trump for a very long time, going back to the nineties. Long before he pushed his MAGA Bible, I have mocked his various failed grifter gimmicks, from Trump University, to Trump mortgage companies (“who knows more about financing than me”) to Trump steaks (“the world’s greatest”) to Trump vodka (“success distilled”). I even mocked his Trump Christmas ornament. And some, who accuse me of Trump Derangement Syndrome, think this brings me joy. Maybe it did once upon a time. Trump, admittedly, has always been exciting copy, since he’s such a vainglorious sociopath. But after nine years or so of nonstop Trump news cycles, if I’m being honest, it’s become as tiresome for me as it has for TDS-accusers.
And yet, as I recently wrote a friend: I’d have let go of him a long time ago if half the country hadn’t insisted on re-nominating him, and if he hadn’t snatched the minds, bodies, and souls of a quarter of the people I know. All while nearly overturning our system of government. Not exactly a normal situation. This is the perpetual fallacy in Trump Derangement Syndrome logic: people accuse you of not being able to let go of criticizing Trump, because they can’t let go of keeping him relevant. If he’d gone away, so would the criticism. We’d still revisit him for old time’s sake here and there, considering he’s the darkest person who’s ever graced the White House, and who has spent the last decade or so violating every norm. But it wouldn’t be the kind of attention you are practically obligated to give him now, considering he’s hijacked the whole Republican party and reordered the country’s entire political life around him.
So he’s an ordeal we’re still living with, though in my experience, all ordeals eventually pass, in order to make way for new ordeals. (Such is the nature of the human condition.) But in the meantime, here’s hoping Trump actually reads the book he’s shilling. It might help him achieve something closer to moral clarity, which has eluded him his entire life. Here are some Biblical highlights he might want to latch onto:
On cheating on your wife/wives.
Exodus 20:14: You shall not commit adultery.
On constantly promoting fear and paranoia:
2 Timothy 1:7: For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.
On attacking judges, prosecutors, and their families:
Matthew 5:44: But I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you.
On speaking when you have nothing to say, except for being quarrelsome:
Proverbs 18: 6-7: A fool’s lips bring strife, and his mouth calls for blows. A fool’s mouth is his ruin. And his lips are the snare of his soul.
On pride:
Proverbs 16: 18: Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.
On lying about winning the election:
Proverbs 13:5: The righteous hate what is false, but the wicked make themselves a stench and bring shame on themselves.
On causing constant division:
Matthew 5:9: Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called Children of God.
So maybe this Easter, I’ll take a break from condemning Donald Trump, as he pushes his MAGA Bible, yet another buck-raking scheme he hopes will help him pay off his lawyers for the 91 felony counts he faces. And I will pray that he sees the light, instead. And that he reflects it to others in the unlikely event that he ever does, since he holds sway over too many people I know who know that book even better than I do, but who ignore much of what they believe when it comes to politics. Politics being their new religion. For the book I revere has some things to say about extending grace, even when we don’t want to:
Matthew 5: 43-45: You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.
Bonus Track: Here’s a wonderful classic that is not technically an Easter song, but that I’ve always regarded as one, since it is the sound of Resurrection. The Edwin Hawkins Singers doing an extended live version of “Oh Happy Day,” with Dorothy Combs Morrison killing it on lead vocals. It simmers, then it boils. Neglect it at your own risk:
