The golden age of America begins right now.” – D.J. Trump, January 20, 2025

January 20 marks the one year anniversary of life under the Trump regime guided by the playbook of Project 2025. It is a day to look back on promises made under the guise of divine fiat and view them through the lens of scripture and the gospel that seeks truth and justice for all.

When Donald Trump declared in his inaugural address that “the golden age of America begins right now,” and framed January 20 as a national “Liberation Day,” he was not merely offering a political agenda. He was offering a theological construct, one in which national power is conflated with divine purpose, and political authority is baptized as God’s instrument of salvation. His assertion that he was “saved by God to make America great again” casts the presidency not as public service but as the providential destiny that fuels the engine of white Christian Nationalism.

The gilded promise that followed, that his administration would bring “hope, prosperity, safety and peace for citizens of every race, religion, color and creed,” is sweeping in its scope and moral ambition. But such claims must be tested against reality and weighed on the scales of justice. Scripture insists on this. But when we examine the fruits of Trump’s record as a two term President, the promise collapses under the weight of evidence, especially for the vulnerable, the marginalized, and for creation itself. “You will know them by their fruits,” Jesus asserted. (Matthew 7:16). So, what fruits have Trump’s promise produced, if any?

Hope, in any biblical sense, is inseparable from truth, justice, and solidarity. Yet Trump’s political rise and governance has always been fueled by lies, lawlessness, grievance and division, negating any hope for reconciliation and unity. His rhetoric routinely singles out political opponents, immigrants, “fake news,” non-Christians, and protestants (small p) as his enemies. Rather than healing wounds, his words and actions further widen and infect them.

He responds to protests against racial and ethnic injustice not with empathy but with threats and acts of force. He characterizes overwhelmingly peaceful demonstrations as violent insurrections while pardoning convicted insurrectionists. We recall in his first term the specious image of him posing with a Bible in front of Saint John’s Episcopal Church parish house after federal agents forcibly cleared protesters from Lafayette Square for the photo shoot. Such behavior has remained an ongoing part of his MO during this term, but now on steroids.

His unprecedented, unlawful and politicized deployment of military and paramilitary forces against citizens of the United States under the banner of “law and order” and cleaning up the border has been ludicrous, unconstitutional, inhumane and in violation of due process. Hope withers when people are treated as threats rather than neighbors. Any claim to bring hope “for citizens of every race, religion, color and creed” rings hollow when entire communities are consistently portrayed as problems to be solved rather than people to be loved.

And bringing all this to the present, it rings hollow when an innocent citizen is shot and killed by an overzealous, roguish, federalized paramilitary agent of chaos and intimidation, followed by the Secretary of Homeland Security immediately branding the victim as a domestic terrorist who weaponized her vehicle against an agent. This is not the language of hope; it is the dialect of deceit and the posture of domination.

As for prosperity, Trump’s vision is myopic, narrow and uneven. His knowledge of economics is amateurish, as proven by his employment of tariffs as a panacea for concocted economic woes. His signature policies have delivered disproportionate benefits to corporations and the wealthy while offering temporary or marginal relief to working families. Firings of public servants during the DOGE debacle were legion, employment tanked, wages stagnated for many even as corporate profits soared and his billionaire cronies paid homage as if they were Wise Men visiting a gilded manger.

Statistics from those who track this stuff indicate that last year the top 10% of the population held roughly 60-70% of the nation’s wealth, while the bottom 50% possessed a mere 2-3%. The top 1% alone controlled around one-third (30-40%). (Moreover, according to a January 14 Planet Money segment on NPR titled How much money President Trump and his family have made [just off his presidency in 2025], that figure reached a staggering $4 billion.)

More telling than the numbers was the philosophy behind them. Prosperity was framed not as shared well-being but as competitive dominance. Social safety nets were portrayed as moral failures and were mercilessly gutted. Healthcare was treated as a market commodity rather than a public good and right. Passage of the “One Big Beautiful Bill” on July 4, Independence Day, threatened health care coverage for millions of marginalized citizens dependent on such assistance to survive and thrive.

In scripture prosperity is never measured solely by wealth accumulation. The prophets consistently judge nations by how they treat the poor, the widow, and the stranger. “Woe to those who add house to house and join field to field,” Isaiah warns, “until no space is left” (Isaiah 5:8). An economy that concentrates wealth while leaving millions one illness or layoff away from ruin is not a sign of blessing, it is an abomination.

Turning an eye to safety, we must ask if our streets, homes, businesses, public lands, air, water and the sovereignty of nations are safer than they were one year ago. The answer is a resounding NO! Trump’s understanding of safety leans heavily on coercion. “Law and order” became a catchall justification for empire building, militarized policing, expanded executive power, and the normalization of political violence. He expressed admiration for authoritarian leaders abroad (rolling out the red carpet for dictator Putin in Alaska and berating and belittling President Zelenskyy in the White House) while showing open hostility toward democratic norms at home.

Rather than strengthening trust between nations, communities and institutions, this approach deepened fear. Journalists were labeled enemies. Judges were attacked when they ruled against him. Civil servants were purged for perceived disloyalty. Even public health became politicized, with expertise dismissed in favor of personal instinct, contributing to chaos and preventable loss of life.

True safety, in both civic and Christian thought, arises from justice and mutual care. The Psalms speak of peace as the fruit of righteousness, not intimidation. A society ruled by fear may be controlled, but it is never truly safe.

As for peace, Trump frequently spoke of it and portrayed himself as the consummate peace maker, claiming to have ended more wars than Baskin Robbins has ice cream flavors (yes, that’s hyperbole). And surely no one in the history of the Nobel Peace Prize has yearned and lobbied for it more than Trump. Yet his policies often undermined the conditions that make peace possible. Internationally, he withdrew from multilateral agreements, alienated allies, and treated diplomacy as transactional theater. Domestically, he framed politics as existential warfare, encouraging supporters and loyalists to stay locked and loaded and see compromise as betrayal.

Peace, in biblical terms, is shalom, wholeness, right relationship, and flourishing. It cannot be achieved through scapegoating or exclusion. Jesus blesses peacemakers, not strongmen. He denounces violence. He weeps over cities that choose domination over compassion.

But perhaps nowhere is the gap between promise and reality clearer than in Trump’s environmental record. If hope, prosperity, safety, and peace are to extend to future generations, care for the earth is not optional, it is essential. Our current decade is the “make-or-break” period in humanity’s rather anemic struggle against climate chaos. Yet Trump’s administration has waged an unprecedented rollback of environmental protections. Dozens of regulations safeguarding clean air, clean water, and public lands have been weakened or eliminated. Protections for endangered species were rolled back. Oil and gas extraction were aggressively expanded on public lands and offshore, while incentives for electrification were scuttled. The U.S. withdrew from international climate agreements, signaling indifference to the global consequences of environmental collapse.

This was not merely a policy disagreement; it was a moral failure. Calling global warming and massive climate change a hoax, burying the terms and ignoring and impeding the science and scientists disproportionately harms the poor, the elderly, and communities of color. It destabilizes nations, fuels migration, and threatens food and water security. To dismiss or deny this crisis is to abandon the biblical mandate of stewardship given in Genesis, to “tend and keep” the garden. The earth, scripture tells us, belongs to God, not to any nation or corporation. “The land must not be sold permanently,” God says in Leviticus, “because the land is mine, and you are but aliens and tenants.” An administration that treats creation as expendable cannot plausibly claim to be advancing peace or prosperity for all.

Trump’s language of divine favor and national destiny places him squarely within a long biblical pattern of leaders who claim God’s blessing while pursuing power. Scripture is unambiguous in its warnings. In Deuteronomy, the people are cautioned against prophets who perform signs yet lead them away from God’s ways. Jeremiah condemns leaders who cry “Peace, peace,” when there is no peace. Jesus warns that false messiahs will arise, deceiving many with displays of power and promises of deliverance.

The test is never charisma, confidence, wealth or power; it is fruit. Does a leader draw people toward humility, justice, mercy and love of neighbor? Or does he and his cadre of sycophants and enablers foster fear, resentment, and domination? For Christians, the danger we face is not merely political, it is spiritual. When faith is fused with nationalism, the gospel is hollowed out and repurposed as a tool of empire. As he began his public ministry Jesus did not announce that he came to make any nation great. He came to announce good news to the poor, release to the captives, and freedom for the oppressed (Luke 4:16-21).

Christ stands in opposition to authoritarianism, not in service to it. He refuses the devil’s offer of the kingdoms of the world. He enters Jerusalem not on a warhorse but on a donkey. He conquers not by killing but by being killed. To follow this Christ is to reject the lie that salvation comes through strongmen, walls, or domination. It is to resist the seduction of golden ages and proliferation of golden images built on exclusion and self aggrandizement. It is to care for the earth as sacred trust, to welcome the stranger, to speak truth to power, and to remember that our ultimate allegiance is not to any flag, but to the kingdom of God.

The choice before Christians is as old as scripture itself, empire or Gospel, Caesar or Christ, fear or love. Liberation does not arrive on inauguration days. It arrives wherever people choose justice, mercy, and faithfulness, no matter the cost.

Do not be deceived,” Paul writes. “God is not mocked. A person reaps what they sow.” The question is not what promises are made, but what is planted and bears fruit, and whether we will have the courage to name and confront false prophets, even when they allegedly speak in God’s name. May it be so.

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PS: Here’s a bonus thought. It was in 1873 that Mark Twain’s satirical novel, The Gilded Age: A Tale of Today, was published. Set in Washington D.C., it mocked post-Civil War American society’s greed and political graft. The age was gilded (a thin covering of gold, shiny on the outside, but cheap or rotten underneath) because its glittering prosperity hid widespread poverty, political corruption and massive inequality, especially for the working class and immigrants. Twain saw it as an age driven forward by self-serving politicians and grasping businessmen. The Gilded Age represents the beginnings of the American novel as a vehicle of social protest, a trend that grew in the late 19th and early 20th centuries with the works of the muckrakers.

Historian, Jemar Tisby, does not believe that history repeats itself, as the old saying goes. “Those exact circumstances will never precisely occur again so, strictly speaking, history does not repeat itself. But history does rhyme. The echoes of the past resonate in the present, reminding us that while our circumstances might be new, certain patterns have familiar rhythms.” While Trump’s Golden Age revealed in 2025 may not be a historical repeat of Twain’s Gilded Age of 1873, the rhythmic echoes are loud and clear.

Our county historical association conducts 4th grade fields trips twice a month where I re-enact a true character from local history. After this week’s reenactment one student saw me as a time traveler, a live person from the past now standing before him in the flesh. This causes me to dream. I have a dream that Mark Twain could travel through time and land back here in America in 2026. If that could happen, then I would also dream that he would have his own late night TV talk show along side his muckraking buddies, John Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Jimmy Kimmel, Seth Meyers and their ilk. And how about joining the cast of SNL?! Now, that would be golden. One can only dream.


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