Gloria Johns

Reader contributor

As the largest religion in the world, with more than 2 billion adherents, Christianity is the chosen path for those who would follow the teachings of Jesus.

But there have been times when the dichotomy between belief and practice is so apparent that hindsight causes us to look back in shame, or haughtiness, depending on how much we may be lacking or possessing the sin of pride, to atrocities committed in the name of God.

For example, in the 12th century, Catholics under Pope Gregory IX introduced the Inquisition as a method of deterring heresy. More than just a line of questioning, the Inquisition included especially inventive means of torture and death. And on a lesser scale, the Salem witch trials were inspired by Christians’ belief in satanic possession.

Anti-Semitism, though racially and not necessarily religiously oriented, was driven by a man with a strong Christian education whose bedtime reading consisted of Martin Luther: Adolf Hitler.

In almost every instance of conflict begotten by religion, two elements were present that created and then perpetuated the conflict: leadership with the cunning and power to indoctrinate the masses, and blindness to the remarkable irony of hatred and violence in the name of God.

It would be foolish to believe that Christianity won’t continue to evolve, perhaps not to the point of disbelief, but to a place that further challenges that who we are and that who we say we are.

In the same vein that President Barack Obama was predicted to be the closet Muslim who would have the United States living under Sharia Law and forcibly reciting the five Islamic prayers each day, rather than failed prognostication, there has already been evidence that the new president, Donald Trump, is writing the next chapter in the evolution of Christianity.

Eighty-one percent of white evangelicals supported Trump. White Catholics supported Trump over Clinton by a 23-point margin. Weekly churchgoers backed Trump over Clinton 56 percent to 40 percent. Sixty percent of all people who identify as Protestant voted Republican.

But are Trump’s message and demeanor in consonance with Christ’s teachings? Or, perhaps the more important question, has Trump’s voice resounded more deeply than the Gospels?

It is a fair question considering that religious affiliation of presidents and candidates has been part of the chances of electability before — the Catholic John Kennedy, the Mormon Mitt Romney, the suspected atheist Abraham Lincoln.

And it’s not difficult to compare the words of Donald Trump to Scripture.

Jesus: “Blessed are the meek.”

Trump: “I’m the only one who can do it.” "I know more about ISIS than the generals do, believe me...”

Jesus: “Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.”

Trump: “I’d like to punch him in the face.” I would bomb the s--- out of them."

Jesus: “Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God."

Trump: “The beauty of me is that I’m very rich.”

Trump, on commemoration of the Last Supper: “I drink my little wine and eat my little cracker.”

Here is a quote from Trump’s chief strategist, Steve Bannon: "Darkness is good. Dick Cheney. Darth Vader. Satan. That’s power.”

And finally, Matthew 7:1: “Judge not, that ye be not judged,” and John 8:7, “… He lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.”

Those of us who know of our failings escape the contrivance of presenting the appearance of virtue or goodness, while concealing our true character.

In an interview in January 2016, Trump told CNN's Jake Tapper that he does not "like to have to ask for forgiveness. And I am good. I don't do a lot of things that are bad. I try to do nothing that is bad."

Matthew 7:20: "Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them." Or not.

Gloria Johns is a freelance writer living in Austin, with dual residency in San Angelo. Contact her at glo_kel@yahoo.com.