Imagine being painted as so divisive that some self-professed Christians won’t even say your name on Sunday morning.

That’s what happened in some churches in America this last Sunday as pastors tiptoed to the pulpit to give a neutral “prayer for the country” before continuing with their planned programs.

If this is a new way of separating politics from religion, church leaders are terribly misguided.

To recap, we had an unprecedented public assassination attempt at a political rally.  A former U.S. president was injured and almost murdered in front of thousands — but for the grace of God.

In liturgical churches, there’s a boilerplate prayer for the sitting president — and other political leaders — built into every service.  Across mainstream evangelical Protestantism, however, praying for the president or other leaders is largely up to the pastor and often influenced by current events.

The Sunday after the assassination attempt, in more churches than you’d suspect, and regardless of denomination, pastors erred on the side of donations.  After all, money is tight, and they don’t want anyone’s wallet to snap closed just because they mentioned the name “Trump” with kindness or sympathy attached to it.

In the church I visited with a friend, the pastor urged people to “pray for the country.”  In the sermon that followed, he spoke of Moses’s “goodness and meekness,” saying the Old Testament’s greatest prophet “didn’t need a ‘Make Israel Great Again’ hat because he wasn’t “marketing his personality.”  Much of the congregation laughed at the expense of a man who nearly gave his life for his country the day before.  There were no prayers offered up for President Trump, the firefighter who valiantly died protecting his family, or the other two poor souls injured at the event.

After surveying people I knew, I found my experience wasn’t unique.  As church leaders struggled to address their flocks, some chose to make only a vague reference to the assassination attempt, omitting the name “Trump” completely.

The Washington Post reported, “Some evangelical leaders made pointed allusions to ‘enemies’ and ‘tests’ of the faithful without specifically mentioning Trump or the attack.”

Shame on those who chose to censor prayers for their own gain!

It seems some American churches are forgetting their own traditions as conveniently as the progressives who’ve been working to fundamentally transform the country.  When soul-shaking, nation-shaping events happen, faithful Americans have always sought spiritual succor from their local churches.

In 1990, when the first Gulf War broke out, I was working my first job at a small-town newspaper when a local church called to advertise a city-wide, ecumenical prayer service.  A great wave of emotion gripped our city when news of the conflict began, and the publisher directed me to feature the prayer service on the front page.  I attended the standing-room-only event the next day.  It seemed as though the entire city came together to pray for the president, the country, and our troops; no one was whining about mixing politics with religion.

I’ve seen many similar situations through the years, including after the attacks of September 11.  How things have changed since then.

Even when we look back to the 1981 attempted assassination of former president Ronald Reagan, we find examples of churches stepping up to give solace and strength.  A Catholic bishop in upstate New York, for instance, urged 400,000 Catholics throughout his diocese to come together to pray for President Reagan’s quick recovery and for the families of the wounded, adding, “And let us not deprive the tragic assailant of our petitions for forgiveness.”

Many of us heard nothing that generous the day after that jarring, horrific attack in the field in Butler, Pennsylvania.  There was no comfort offered for our own souls, no prayers for the assailed.

Some may argue this omission from Sunday service can be justified because President Trump isn’t the current president; I would counter that it doesn’t matter.  Donald J. Trump is a former commander-in-chief due respect and honor for the rest of his life — as well as in his eventual death and burial after a state funeral.  

That’s right: no matter how much the left hates him (Whoopi Goldberg literally spat after saying his name just days before), he’s still an American president — and “they can’t take that away.”

Last year, a deacon in my (former) church gave a dramatic sermon informing the congregation that former president Trump had declared himself our “savior.”  There was a slight gasp from the crowd.  The deacon went on to teach that there was only one savior, Jesus Christ, and the group fervently agreed with hallelujahs and amens.

I met privately with the deacon the following Sunday, asking him why he had said something that wasn’t true.  In fact, I showed him an article detailing Trump’s Christmas remarks at First Baptist of Dallas in 2021.  There Trump had said, “Our country needs a savior right now.  And our country has a savior.  And it’s not me.  It’s somebody much higher up than me.  Much higher.”

The deacon refused to relent, insisting that he was right yet unwilling to quote a source.  Never mind that if Trump had literally declared himself a “savior,” it would have caused a theological earthquake worldwide.

Keep in mind that to this day, that congregation still believes that Trump is a delusional nutjob who attempted to usurp the role of Jesus Christ.

And the leftist media keep feeding into this craziness with deceptive headlines like “Sunday services paint Trump as God's chosen one.”  The article outlined five megachurches who, they claim, “paint Trump as a political leader with the protection and backing of God.”  Most of the examples they give reinforce the idea that “God’s protection of Trump is likely to strengthen their belief that Trump is meant to be president.”  And what, may I ask, is wrong with that — except that there seems to be no place for divine providence in post-reset America?

I only wish I lived within driving distance of one of those fearless megachurches, because out here in the blue haze,  it feels as though the Christians are getting ready to feed one another to the lions.

Image: Darkmoon_Art via Pixabay, Pixabay License.