In a moment that surprised many, a prayer was spoken over former President Donald Trump using scripture long familiar to millions of Christians:
No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD, and their righteousness is of me, saith the LORD.
Isaiah 54:17
What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?
Romans 8:31
These words, drawn from the book of Isaiah and echoed by Paul in Romans, have long been uttered in moments of spiritual affirmation, often in Black churches and other congregations as declarations of divine protection amid suffering or struggle. But for some observers, hearing this spiritual armor applied to Donald Trump stirred something deeper and more unsettling.
When Scripture Meets Power
There’s no doubt that these verses are powerful. For communities historically marginalized or persecuted, they affirm resilience, dignity, and hope. But what does it mean when they are used not for the vulnerable, but for the powerful? For a former president, a billionaire, and a figure as polarizing as Donald Trump?
According to Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and Presbyterian minister Chris Hedges, such a moment isn’t merely religious, it is political idolatry. In his view, invoking scripture to sanctify political power, especially power that embodies wealth, celebrity, and nationalist fervor, crosses a theological line. “It’s idolatry, it’s heresy,” Hedges says. “It’s the sacralization of human and political power, which is probably the greatest sin any religious institution can make.”
The Politics of Piety
Hedges has spent decades studying the intersections of faith, politics, and power. He argues that the American Christian Right has transformed large segments of evangelicalism into a political movement more interested in national dominance than spiritual growth. Citing political theorist Hannah Arendt, Hedges compares the aesthetics and structure of megachurches to tools of indoctrination: comfy seats, uplifting music, feel-good messages, all designed not for contemplation, but conformity.
“Fascist movements always use spectacle,” Hedges notes. The parallels he draws are not subtle. In his analysis, the Christian Right bears resemblance to the “German Christian” movement of 1930s Nazi Germany, where churches prominently displayed both the cross and the swastika. This alignment, he warns, reflects not just theological error but historical peril.
A Church Backed by Capital
Perhaps the most provocative element of Hedges’ critique is his assertion that the Christian Right’s rise is no grassroots spiritual revival, it’s a top-down, billionaire-funded political project. “This church is bankrolled by the very billionaire class that we talked about,” he says. Why? Because in the vision of “magic Jesus,” systemic solutions become irrelevant. Healthcare, labor rights, and public services, all can be abandoned if divine blessing is interpreted as financial gain and personal success.
In this theology, poverty is not a social failure but a spiritual one. Justice becomes unnecessary if prosperity is a sign of divine favor. This religious framework provides political cover for policies that benefit the wealthy while gutting protections for the vulnerable.
The Shift to Magical Thinking
For Hedges, the greatest danger of this movement is not just its theology or its politics, but its departure from reality. Once people are immersed in what he calls “magical thinking”, the belief that faith alone will solve material problems, rational discourse becomes impossible. “You can’t reach them with a rational argument,” he laments. In such a state, political ideologies are no longer debated but defended as sacred truths, beyond question.
The Cost of Confusion
The prayer over Donald Trump was more than a religious gesture, it was a symbolic declaration that conflates spiritual promise with political authority. For many, it was a moment of inspiration. For others, a sign of deep theological and civic confusion.
At stake is not just the soul of a church or a party, but the integrity of a faith tradition that once placed the poor, the oppressed, and the outsider at its center. When scripture is used to crown kings instead of comfort the afflicted, we risk turning prophecy into propaganda and worship into war paint.
As Hedges warns, this is not just poor theology. It is a form of idolatry. And history has shown us where that path can lead.