Most MAGA adhere to the 'Church of Trump' — not Christianity

The past few days have featured the vice president of the United States lecturing the pope on morality and church doctrine; Sean Hannity making it official that he worships at the Church of Trump; Pete Hegseth quoting made-up verses from "Pulp Fiction" as if they were actual scripture; and Donald Trump styling himself as Jesus Christ. A few years ago, one might have wondered how these acts of contempt toward Christianity would go down with the religious right, but after 10 years of cultishness, it would be foolish to expect many defections.

Still, as someone who came up in the conservative movement, I find it a bit dizzying to watch people who used to venerate religious leaders of all stripes now smack-talk the pope and commit what some have characterized as blasphemy.

JD Vance took several swipes at the vicar of Christ. On Fox News, he advised that, "In some cases it would be best for the Vatican to stick to matters of morality." That's some high-octane condescension, but if he had stopped there, it would only have registered as normal MAGA insolence. But Vance wasn't finished. Speaking the next day at a Turning Point USA event, Vance rebuked the spiritual leader of 1.4 billion Christians (including himself: Vance converted to Catholicism in 2019) for his theology! The pope was wrong about just war theory, Vance insisted, and he then scolded the pope, saying, "In the same way that it's important for the vice president of the United States to be careful when I talk about matters of public policy, I think it's very, very important for the pope to be careful when he talks about matters of theology."

If Vance is careful when he talks about matters of public policy, I shudder to imagine what a cavalier Vance would say. Was his flat endorsement of the lie that Trump won the 2020 election an example of Vance being careful? Was his false allegation that undocumented Haitian immigrants (they were legal) were eating people's pets in Springfield, Ohio, measured and cautious?

Beyond that, even as he was chastising the pope for sloppiness about matters of doctrine, he was actively misrepresenting what the pontiff said — in other words, being exceedingly sloppy with facts. Vance taunted, "Was God on the side of the Americans who liberated France from the Nazis? Was God on the side of the Americans who liberated Holocaust camps?" Contra Vance, Leo did not say that God is never on the side of those who fight wars. As Bishop James Massa of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops' Committee on Doctrine explained, "A constant tenet of that thousand-year (just war) tradition is a nation can only legitimately take up the sword 'in self-defense, once all peace efforts have failed.'"

Vance might want to brush up on his catechism. Even if Vance had been right about just war doctrine instead of flat wrong, the eagerness to spar with the pope — it bears repeating: the head of the entire Catholic Church — is utterly Trumpian. Thou shalt have no gods before Trump. Centuries of moral teaching are as nothing if they contradict the wishes of the cult leader.

One of the sad revelations of our time, ably chronicled by Peter Wehner, Tim Alberta, David French, Russell Moore and many others, is the shallowness of many Christians' professed faith. I'm Jewish, but I've long admired the commitment of serious Christians. I will never forget visiting a facility run by Christian volunteers for abandoned babies exposed to drugs in the womb. These babies needed round-the-clock care of the most grueling nature — not just changing diapers, but adjusting feeding tubes, oxygen masks and more. The people who worked there did it because they truly honored every human being. They believed that each child, no matter how handicapped, was made in the image and likeness of God. They took to heart the commandment to do "for the least of these."

Of course, religious belief can also be perverted to enable cruelty and even atrocities. From the Crusades to the Inquisition to the sex abuse scandals of recent years, churches, synagogues and mosques have spawned crimes, betrayals and lies. "Out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing was ever made," as Immanuel Kant put it.

But the particular sacrilege that late-stage Trumpism has adopted must be tearing at some hearts. From Trump's declaration that unlike Erika Kirk, he doesn't forgive his enemies, to his crude attacks on the pope as "weak on crime," to his insane artificial intelligence rendering of himself as Jesus, he seems to be deliberately testing Christians' forbearance. Above all, his threat to commit war crimes by deliberately targeting civilian infrastructure in Iran (bridges, power plants) and culminating in the maniacal vow to destroy Iranian civilization in one night ought to have produced a recoil in any nation with a conscience.

Time to consider that he might be a false prophet — if people can distinguish truth from falsehood anymore.

Mona Charen is policy editor of The Bulwark and host of the “Beg to Differ” podcast.