Donald Trump and the Pope: Walls and Bridges, Faith and Politics

“Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I tell you? I will show you what someone is like who comes to me, hears my words, and acts on them. That one is like a man building a house, who dug deeply and laid the foundation on rock; when a flood arose, the river burst against that house but could not shake it, because it had been well built. But the one who hears and does not act is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. When the river burst against it, immediately it fell, and great was the ruin of that house.”
Luke 6:46-49

It was weird.

Even by the standards of this year’s very strange presidential campaign, it was weird.

Not long after Pope Francis celebrated mass on the border between Mexico and the United States, and commemorated those who had lost their lives trying to make that crossing, as he was traveling back to Rome, the Pope was asked what he thought about Donald Trump’s proposal to deport eleven million illegal immigrants and build a wall along the border. Could an American Catholic vote for Trump?

On the issue of whether or not a Catholic could vote for Trump, he gave no papal directive, but he did comment on Trump’s proposals.

“A person who thinks only about building walls, wherever they may be, and not building bridges, is not Christian,” said Francis. “This is not in the Gospel.”

When asked “if an American Catholic could vote for a person like this?” Francis responded, 

“As far as what you said about whether I would advise to vote or not to vote,” he commented, “I am not going to get involved in that. I say only that this man is not Christian if he says things like that.” 

Then, more reflectively, he added, “We must see if he said things in that way and in this I give the benefit of the doubt.”

Trump’s response was swift and certain. He called the Pope’s comments “disgraceful.”

We will pause now to reflect on the supreme irony and apparent total lack of self-awareness in Mr. Trump calling what someone else said, disgraceful.

This is the same man who began his campaign by slandering all Mexican immigrants, who spoke first of Fox commentator Megyn Kelly, and then of Hillary Clinton, and still later of Ted Cruz, in language that cannot be repeated in polite company. This is the man who said that John McCain was not a war hero and insisted that thousands of American Muslims in New Jersey were cheering as the twin towers went down on September 11. Disgraceful has become the Trump brand.

In his official response, Trump began with an imaginary scenario that sounds like an idea for a television movie:

“If and when the Vatican is attacked by ISIS, which as everyone knows is ISIS’s ultimate trophy, I can promise you that the Pope would have only wished and prayed that Donald Trump would have been President because this would not have happened.”

How weird is that?

Roughly translated, I think he is saying that if the Pope really understood what is at stake in this election, he would be praying for Trump to win the presidency.

Somehow, I doubt it.

In the closing paragraph, Trump tells us what he finds disgraceful in the Pope’s remarks:

“For a religious leader to question a person’s faith is disgraceful. I am proud to be a Christian . . . . No leader, especially a religious leader, should have the right to question another man’s religion or faith.”

On a positive note, it’s clear that Mr. Trump does not have an army of public relations professionals massaging his statements for either style or content. His written comments, like his speeches, seem totally void of critical reflection.

A few weeks ago Mr. Trump said that he could shoot someone in broad daylight in New York City and his supporters would still be behind him. By that standard, calling the Pope disgraceful is nothing. Not surprisingly, his comments caused no defections from the ranks, and his supporters took to social media to voice their approval. It was a landslide.

As one news commentator summed it up at the end of the day, “Trump 1- the Pope 0.” 

Two serious observations:

First, I don’t think the Pope was questioning Donald Trump’s faith. He was only commenting on Trump’s policy proposals and public statements. We cannot know what is in another person’s heart. Trump is right about that, we shouldn’t question another person’s faith. Public statements and policy proposals are another matter. 

Second, the Pope did not say that American Catholics should not vote for Mr. Trump. He made an important distinction between criticizing some of Trump’s policies and declaring his candidacy off-limits to faithful Christians. Like the Pope, I am deeply troubled by some of Mr. Trump’s proposals. I am also troubled by his bullying tactics. But deciding for whom we will vote is a complex matter of weighing many competing issues, and fundamentally it is a matter of conscience. Though it is tempting, that is a place where we dare not judge.

Pope Francis and John Wesley

Pope Francis addressing a joint session of Congress 

"But although a difference in opinions or modes of worship may prevent an entire external union, yet need it prevent our union in affection? Though we cannot think alike, may we not love alike? May we not be of one heart, though we are not of one opinion? Without all doubt, we may. Herein all the children of God may unite, notwithstanding these smaller differences. These remaining as they are, they may forward one another in love and in good works.”

John Wesley

I love Pope Francis.

He is humble and brilliant, simple and profound, prophetic and brave, and he does not seem to care how others may judge him. He is faithful to the Gospel in such open and obvious ways that one can never doubt his passion and commitment.

Insofar as a pope can reject the trappings of his office, he does. He seems to have little patience with pomp and circumstance. He has great respect for the office he holds, and he seems to care deeply about his responsibilities as a faith leader, but part of that responsibility involves the embrace of his own humanity as a common bond with others. 

I know we disagree about many things: abortion, same sex marriage, and the role of women in the church come immediately to mind. Those are not small disagreements. In part, I accept those differences because I just like him so much as a person and respect him so much as a Christian. But I also know that as important as those issues are, they are not at the center of the biblical witness on issues of social justice.

From the Torah to the Hebrew Prophets to the teachings of Jesus, and throughout the life of the early church, the major biblical emphasis is on economic justice. This is the big issue at the heart of how human society is organized and it is the key component of how we show our love for one another.

I think I also love Pope Francis because he reminds me of John Wesley.

The visible similarities are striking. Wesley, like Francis, lived very simply and did not embrace the trappings of his office. Wesley, like Francis, embraced the poor and marginalized. Wesley, like Francis, was well loved by the common people. It was said of John Wesley that when he died he was the best loved man in all of England. And Wesley, like Francis, drew enormous crowds wherever he went. In common parlance, Wesley was, as Francis is, a rock star.

And beyond the visible similarities, they share a common message. Wesley’s sermon on “The Danger of Riches” is a foreshadowing of Francis’ critique of capitalism. The corrosive effects of unchecked greed are harmful to the soul and harmful to the social fabric. They harm the rich as well as the poor.

In his address to Congress, Francis declared that politics cannot be the slave of economics and finance, but must be “an expression of our compelling need to live as one, in order to build as one the greatest common good: that of a community which sacrifices particular interests in order to share, in justice and peace, its goods, its interests, its social life.” He went on to say that he would not underestimate the difficulty of that endeavor, “but,” he said, “I encourage you in this effort.” Wesley did not make the connection between politics and economics as systematically as Pope Francis does, but he understood and advocated a connection between personal faith and social responsibility.

Wesley was outspoken in his criticism of ostentatious wealth and consumption, but he refused to be judgmental. Once at the dinner table a leader in the Methodist movement called Wesley’s attention to the obviously expensive rings worn by a woman dining with them. He asked pointedly, “Mr. Wesley, what do you think of that hand.” Ignoring the man’s intent, Wesley answered, “I think it is a very lovely hand.” In a similar way, when Pope Francis was asked about homosexuality, he answered, “Who am I to judge?”

In an essay on “The People Called Methodist,” Wesley declared as a first principle, “that orthodoxy, or right opinions, is, at best, but a very slender part of religion, if it can be allowed to be any part of it at all.” One guesses that Francis would never put that thought into writing, but one might also guess that he may well think it.

For Wesley as for Francis, the belief that “God is love,” is a core theological concept. Everything else flows from that central insight. It is simple and yet profound. As Wesley would say, it is something that everyone professes to believe, yet very few practice.

Pope Francis and Evolution

The heavens are telling the glory of God; 

and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.
Day to day pours forth speech,
and night to night declares knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words;
their voice is not heard;
yet their voice goes out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world.
Psalm 19:1-4

In an editorial today, The Providence Journal notes that “Pope Francis, unlike many of his predecessors, is more than willing to share his personal opinions on a wide variety of controversial issues.” According to the Journal, the most recent example of his willingness to speak out on controversial issues came at the Pontifical Academy of Sciences in Vatican City, where he spoke out a few days ago on “the evolution-versus-creation debate.”

Essentially, what he said was that there was no inherent conflict between evolution and Christian faith.

One assumes this must have come as a great relief to the biology professors teaching evolution at Catholic Universities around the world, as well as to the thousands of teachers in Catholic high schools.

This is not news.

To be fair, the editorial acknowledges that Pope Francis is not the first pope to positively about evolution. The Journal quotes Josephine McKenna of Religion News Service as observing that “In 1950, Pope Pius XII proclaimed there was no opposition between evolution and Catholic doctrine. [And] In 1996, St. John Paul II endorsed Pius’ statement.”

According to the Journal, “it was the direct and remarkably straightforward manner of the pope’s response that caught more than a few observers off guard. He strongly defended the long-held position of the Roman Catholic Church and, most importantly, established a modern link between evolution and creation.”

The only reason anyone could have been caught off guard is because over the last several decades the news media have focused on the most anti-scientific members of the Christian community and made it seem like they spoke for everyone. Over the last five hundred years, faith and science have had few quarrels until these last few decades. And even now, the conflict does not exist for mainline Protestants or Roman Catholics. And it does not exist for many evangelicals.

I appreciate the willingness of Pope Francis to say things that need to be said. “When we read about Creation in Genesis,” he said, “we run the risk of imagining God was a magician, with a magic wand able to do everything. But that is not so. He created human beings and let them develop according to the internal laws that he gave to each one so they would reach their fulfillment.”

True enough. The book of Genesis is not a scientific treatise. And it is not a history book. It is symbolic language. It is about meaning and relationships. It is about who we are and whose we are.

What Pope Francis (Should Have) Said

“If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea. If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.”
Mark 9:42-4

Late on Saturday night, as I was going over my sermon for Sunday.

Okay. I should be honest. It wasn’t really late. It was barely 9 o’clock. But it was late for me, and “late on Saturday night” seems like the time I should have been going over my sermon. And the idea that it was late would make what happened next seem less stupid.

Yesterday was “Transfiguration Sunday,” and I was thinking about “mountain top experiences.” I was thinking about the real “mountain top” behind the house where I grew up in Sagamore. It was really just a hill, but we called it “Mount Tom,” and from the top we could look out across the Scusset marshes to Cape Cod Bay. It was spectacular. I was also remembering a wonderful memorial service that morning, which was wonderful celebration of a life well lived. And I was looking forward to what I anticipated would be some very creative and inspiring themes that our worship team had been working on for Lent.

And then I looked at Facebook, and I saw this wonderful quotation from Pope Francis:

“Through humility, soul searching, and prayerful contemplation we have gained a new understanding of certain dogmas. The church no longer believes in a literal hell where people suffer. This doctrine is incompatible with the infinite love of God. God is not a judge but a friend and a lover of humanity. God seeks not to condemn but only to embrace. Like the fable of Adam and Eve, we see hell as a Literary device. Hell is merely a metaphor for the isolated soul, which like all souls ultimately will be united in love with God.”

It made me happy. Giddy, even.

Not exactly groundbreaking theology. When I was in seminary I did not know a single student or professor who would not have endorsed the general meaning of that statement. No serious theologian or biblical scholar would have argued for the notion of “a literal hell where people suffer.” Most mainline Christian thinkers, then and now, are Christian universalists. They believe that we come from God and we go to God.

But for the Pope to say it clearly and directly was like a breath of fresh air.

And yesterday morning, at the last minute, I decided to include it in my sermon. And it went very well. Until a friend came up to me after the late service and said that he had seen the quotation and looked for the source and discovered that it was a hoax. The Pope never said it.

Normally, I am deeply skeptical of almost everything I see on the Internet. And most of the time I can smell a hoax before I finish reading it. But in this case I was completely gullible and it did not occur to me that I should verify the source before using it in a sermon.

I just wanted to believe it. And for what it’s worth, the Pope SHOULD have said it.

Rob Bell, once proudly claimed by Evangelical Christians as a rising star, stirred fierce opposition among that group when he published a book called, “Love Wins.” In it, he shared his belief that no one is consigned to eternal torment. For many Christians, apparently, the only thing more precious than the blessed assurance that they are saved is the comfort they get from believing that others are damned.

Bell was accused of the heretical teaching that hell is not a real place. Actually, what he said in the book is that in the time of Jesus, hell was a very specific place. The Greek word most often translated as hell is “Gehenna.” In biblical times, that was the name of a ravine outside of Jerusalem. Originally the site of pagan child sacrifice, in Jesus’ time it was a garbage dump. In Gehenna, the fires literally never went out. And wild dogs gnashed their teeth as they went through the garbage. There were some actions, said Jesus, for which one deserved to be treated like garbage.

In other words, Jesus used “hell” as a literary device, just like Pope Francis “said” in the bogus quotation. Lest anyone think that is a groundbreaking insight, we can also find it in William Barclay’s New Testament commentary, published in 1954.

Jesus Called It an Abomination

A servant cannot serve two masters; for a servant will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.” The Pharisees, who were lovers of money, heard all this, and they ridiculed him. So he said to them, “You are those who justify yourselves in the sight of others; but God knows your hearts; for what is prized by human beings is an abomination in the sight of God.
Luke 16:13-15

The 85 richest people in the world have about the same amount of money as the poorest 3.5 billion people. Jon Stewart listened intently as a news clip played, explaining that the total wealth of half the world’s population was barely as much as the richest 85 people.

“JESUS CHRIST!” he exclaimed, sounding as if he could not help himself. And then he paused before finishing the sentence, “. . . would be very unhappy.”

Yes, Jesus would be very unhappy.

According to the Gospel record, Jesus used the word “abomination” exactly once. Wealth, he said, is “prized by human beings,” but it is “an abomination in the sight of God.” After that exchange he went on to tell the parable of the rich man and the poor man (Luke 16:19-31) and he made it clear in the parable that the real problem was the dramatic inequality between the two. As far as we know, the rich man did not get his money dishonestly. The problem was simply that he had so much and the poor man had so little.

The poor man “longed to satisfy his hunger with the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table,” but he got nothing.

Pope Francis expressed a similar sentiment when he commented on the failure of “trickle down” economics. “The promise,” he said, “was that when the glass was full, it would overflow, benefitting the poor. But what happens instead, is that when the glass is full, it magically gets bigger and nothing ever comes out for the poor.”

Luke says that when Jesus talked about wealth and poverty, the wealthy people “ridiculed him.” The same thing happened to Pope Francis. The same pundits and commentators who were totally on board with Roman Catholic teachings on gay rights and abortion were quick to say that the pope should stick to spiritual matters. One can only assume that they have never read the Gospels.

In one sense, the pope’s critics are right. The economic problem is symptomatic of a deeper spiritual problem. It isn’t about economics as much as it is about theology. Jesus said that we cannot worship wealth if we want to worship God. The worship of wealth is idolatrous. In our time the worship of wealth is buttressed by the conviction that a free market will provide a fair and just distribution of wealth and income. We believe that the distribution is fair because it is determined by the market. And we know that the market is fair. We “know” this even though the numbers tell us that it isn’t fair at all.