Pastoring in the Trump era

A litany of failure, despair, and resilience

I didn’t post anything on the indictment of former President Trump, mostly because I wasn’t sure what there was to say, really. I think it’s important that the rule of law be upheld. I fear that reactions to this will probably further erode commitment to the rule of law among a frighteningly large swath of Americans. I am glad he will be held to some account but I lament that we are in a place where criminal proceedings against a former president are necessary. Mostly, I found myself fighting back a feeling of dread when I heard the news. Dread, and sadness.

Later that day, a thread on Twitter (now X) caught my attention. I hadn’t heard of Sean Muldowney before then, but when I read his thread, I felt it matched my mood.

I’ve heard from dozens of pastors in the last few years, and so many of their stories mirror Sean’s story. Sometimes uncannily so.

In January 2020 I shared some reflections on what I was hearing: Shepherd or Sheep? Religious Leadership in the Age of Trump. In another piece I added some additional framing, and I’ve addressed the subject in a few talks. Mostly, I’ve just listened. I’ve heard stories of heartbreak. I’ve witnessed inexpressible exhaustion. I’ve heard from pastors who feel their entire ministry has been a failure, thirty or forty years’ worth. They question whether any of their words ever mattered. Bewildered, they still love the people kicking them to the curb.

A common theme in so many stories is how all of this remains invisible until you push back. Even the smallest nudge is enough to set things in motion. Move the flags from the front of the sanctuary. Say from the pulpit that character matters. Preach the Beatitudes. Recommend a book. Things start becoming visible. You are warned. You persist. And then everything you thought you knew starts to change—long-standing relationships, spiritual friendships, trust. Maybe also your employment status.

But Sean says it better than I can. I asked Sean if I could share his story with you and he graciously agreed. I think many of you might relate to him and may find in his words clarity, if not comfort. Or perhaps clarity might bring some comfort.

Here’s Sean Muldowney (@sean_muldowney):

That politician got arrested today. I've been reflecting on how I've pastored people since late 2015.

Spoiler: lots of failure.

This probably isn't good and I have no twitter/X audience but whatever.

Thread:

It's late 2015/early 2016. Preceding the presidential election and into the new presidency.

I, like others, observe a rising sentiment among the faithful Christians most immediate to me. This sentiment is a conflation of political aspirations with the will of God.

I observe some good and kind people become supportive of a wealthy celebrity bully who exploits women, minorities, migrant workers, and consumers. His sexual exploits are particularly loathsome.

I grew up in the tri-state area and read the New York newspapers almost every day of my life. I knew what this guy was about since I was 12 years old.

And now he was beginning to exploit Christians for their political support under the pretense of shared values like morality and law-and-order... values that he has not practiced one day in his public life.

Some good and kind people near me soon become somewhat obsessive and defensive over him. It is beginning to look grim. The category of "following Jesus" does not seem to apply to these conversations. Even notions of "decency" and "honor" don't seem to apply to these conversations

What started out as a seemingly benign "well he's just the lesser of two evils" sentiment rapidly evolves into full-blown religious syncretism. Support for this bully is fully equated with doing the will of God.

His personal life doesn't matter, his ethics don't matter, his integrity doesn't matter. Those are all washed away with a few words: "God can use anyone."

I see through the veil. I don't know why it's apparent to me, but it is.

So I'm wanting to speak up about this because it has become a complete spiritual crisis. It has become idolatry. Idolatry is the very thing that is the most dangerous to our souls. No, nobody would outright claim to 'worship' this man.

But the fawning over him and the defense of him has all the markings of uncritical spiritual devotion that could be easily exploited... and would likely lead to violent outbursts somewhere down the road ("cultish" would be a technically appropriate word to use).

As I witness these things take place -- all in the name of Jesus and in the name of being pro-life -- I want to speak up. Pastors push back against idolatry, right?

Pastors don't let people create a god in their own image, right? Pastors warn the people under their care about "strong delusions" (2 Thess. 2:11), right?

I want to be helpful, but also maintain credibility. Maintain a peaceable tone. Withhold judgment. Not offend. Make it far less about who one chooses to vote for and far more about the mingling of spirituality with partisanship and populism (I still believe this).

I speak up, as I can, never feeling like I hit the mark. Never feeling like it's sufficient. Never feeling pastoral enough or gentle enough. Or bold enough or courageous enough.

And I'm thinking "nobody else is seeing this as a discipleship issue. Am I wrong? Biased? Stupid? Do we just ignore this as to not make waves and rock the church?"

(That seemed to be the unspoken expectation in the church. I'm the associate pastor in this story, btw).

I have this internal crisis all while seeing some good and kind people become fully seduced by a classic strong-man bully who parrots enough god-talk to win over the historic "moral majority" crowd.

I feel defeated as I see people sell their souls to a scam artist. What a shitty pastor I must be, to open scripture so often for people but not able to help them see that they are dancing in darkness. But hey, at least they check the "fully engaged church member" boxes! 🤢

So it's enough that I'm failing in speaking up about this AND a related "racism is bad" concern (that was a whole thing that should have been obviously ok, but wasn't).

THEN I learn that my speaking up has caught me a label:

That was definitely a first. Along with getting reported to a supervisor for my "agenda." Along with a secret task-force investigation of my social media (though I was cleared of whatever it was that was garnering complaints).

How did I think I was fairing as a pastor, as someone meant to keep watch over people's souls?

Failure, everywhere.

Now here we are nearing the end of 2023. I am no better a person for my attempts to speak up. I don't claim to hold any moral high ground. My direct critique of one seductive political figure is hardly an endorsement for the other side, but that's not how I've been interpreted.

I've been humbled. I don't think my voice mattered and I don't think I made a difference. I don't think I helped anyone move out of the political haze and into the presence of Jesus.

(I'm pretty sure I'm totally shutting my mouth this coming election season... or going full IDGAF, we'll see.)

The point? It's not actually about me or what I did or didn't do, I'm finally realizing.

Reality is reality. What a multitude saw coming did indeed come. And it is still unfolding.

Seems like "persecution/martyrdom" is the next act in this antichrist soap opera.

But you know what? There's still time to repent, to get off of this train to nowhere, and return to authentic faith in the true Savior. The one who willingly laid down power and embraced weakness.

The one who could have declared religious war on his enemies but instead humbled himself on a cross. The one who invites sinners to his table and empowers them to live a new and different way of life.

Otherwise... behold, your god. Behold, your idol.

This image is included in Muldowney’s original thread. It appears to be from the Patriot Freedom Project, what NPR calls a “controversial nonprofit” that has raised $900,000 for those involved in the January 6 insurrection.

As for me? I've grown in security. I'll lose my job. I'll lose my credibility. I'm calling out syncretism and idolatry. I'm not standing for theonomy or nationalism. I'm not bowing the knee to false christianity.

It's about discipleship and imitating Jesus, or it isn't.

After the first thread went fairly viral, Sean added another thread that I also want to share:

I hope you caught that I purposefully described "good and kind" people who were seduced by this delusion. That wasn't me being cute. That's the truth. That's who they are. That's what made it all the more heartbreaking: to see them take on an identity that wasn't theirs.

I was serving in a large-ish rural church. I was a first-generation Christian (at age 19) city boy who was ministering in a 200+ year old church where the generations ran up to 4 deep.

I got close to farmers, truckers, sporting goods magnates, factory workers, educators, nurses, and business owners.

Side note: farmers are the most amazing people in the doing one of the most dangerous jobs. No farmer is only a farmer. A farmer is a farmer, and an engineer, and a mechanic, and a trucker, and a weatherperson. They're on the cutting edge of technology and steeped in tradition.

Farming is among the professions with the highest suicide rates. They're at the mercy of supply and demand, government policy, the weather, and a host of other variables. All so you and I can eat the food we eat. Go thank a farmer.

So I showed up needing to learn a whole new culture. My education included why rural communities were drawn to Trump on a *policy* level. There were some real benefits.

And also why they were drawn to Trump on an *emotional* level. They believed he really saw valued them.

That's why NONE of my story is about "Trump voters." I don't ask people how they vote and don't try to influence people how they vote.
My story is about good and kind people who fell into a trap, put their whole identity into advocating for a criminal, and called it Christianity.

I was not a martyr or a lone voice among a whole MAGA mob. I detected a subtle undercurrent of unhealthy and un-Christlike speech and posture among some people in our community. It was when I challenged that undercurrent that it felt like a rogue wave unleashed.

It wasn't everyone. But the loud voices were VERY LOUD and the defensive posture was VERY DEFENSIVE and no amount of "here's the bible open in front of us and can you please show me where you are drawing your perspective from?" conversations seemed to be helpful.

All this to say, I don't want my story to contribute to "othering" people. When I would speak up, it usually had to do with hearing someone make a disparaging remark about "those people."

There is a real temptation to "other" the people who "other" in the name of decency. No.

That story was about people I cared for (and still care about). People who were swept up in a deluge. People who lost the ability to discern between true and false faith.

Please don't read any stereotypes of any people groups into that story.

I want to recommend a resource to close this. Marie Mutsuki Mockett traveled across the country one summer with a team of custom wheat harvesters *from my church*. She's a coastal literary type who wanted an insider's view of conservative evangelicals.

She explores the divide between heartland people and coastal people, and between evangelicals and everyone else.

The book is incredible. Marie is a force as a writer. She resists falling for stereotypes while asking hard questions with curiosity.

Go get this book. Learn about from my friends, the farmers and harvesting crew. Learn from Marie who has also become a friend. Go see how Jesus was displayed to her as a non-Christian. You will be moved. At the very least read this review.

Traveling with the Evangelicals who feed AmericaMarie Mutsuki Mockett's 'American Harvest' looks at the divide between the heartland and those who seldom think about where our food comes from.https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/books/story/2020-04-03/evangelicals-marie-mocke

I don't want to take anything away from my previous thread. I will push back against strongly against deranged, hijacked, power-seeking displays of so-called faith.

But as I do I don't want to dismiss any image-bearer who is caught in a deluge. Because that could easily be me.

Sean Muldowney has an M.Div from Alliance Theological Seminary and has served in churches in suburban NYC and central PA. In 2020 he became the lead pastor of a small church in northern NJ which has a unique outreach to the homeless and addicted population.