I am a religious person: Donald Trump, "60 Minutes" Post Blue-Wave Interview.
Love your neighbor as yourself: Jesus, "Mark 12:28-31.
Well, that's a bit awkward.
Ross Douthat, the conservative former New York Times columnist, just put Donald Trump through an A-1 interview for "60 Minutes," in which Douthat poked, pressed, prodded, and prohibitively refused to give in to Trump's boilerplate answers that invariably begin with "Nobody's ever seen... "
The interview was a remarkable tour de force of all things Trump, things that just led to last week's comprehensive GOP electoral dump.
Whether the entire interview is really worth 60 minutes of your time is debatable — one does have to get through a lot of "like no one's seen before"s and self-graded A+s — but there are a few places when Douthat all but threw his notes at Trump for his responses to uncomfortable questions, including how a president makes $3 billion in half a term. Evidently, according to Trump, the secret is not caring about money.
Of course, although the interview was excellent, we have heard a lot of it before, at least the answers.
But in a manner indicative of how the interview went from beginning to end, Douthat did uniquely ask Trump what he wants to happen after Trump himself dies.
The first answer that powered through Trump's powdered head and out of his lying lips involved him saying "I hope I'm missed," despite the completely obvious context in which he was supposed to address what happened to him and his own mortality when he when he faces his own end.
So telling. Trump first thinks about his ratings in a world he'll never see again.
When Douthat, who is practically a self-anointed cardinal in the Catholic Church, redirects Trump into talking about what happens to his own soul's fate, Trump then proclaims that he'd like to think he'd go to heaven because he's a very religious person. Pause for laughter over the adjudicated sexual abuser and convicted fraudster claiming to care about his relationship with God.
But, credit where it's due, Douthat had the follow-up, asking whether Trump, while standing in front of the throne of God, could forgive his enemies, as Erika Kirk said she did (cynically or not). Trump paused. Surely, that addled head knew that he had two ways out: one involved a lie, the other involved the truth and, most importantly, a means to unleash more hatred.
Douthat moved in before the answer: "James Comey"? "Nancy Pelosi"? In front of God, with heaven awaiting mere forgiveness, could Trump do it? Trump said no, emphasizing that these were such bad people: "Look what they put ME through."
Now, this column will not preach to anyone; it was Trump who claimed to be very religious, and by that he means Christian. If a Christian believes in Christ's teachings, that person might note that Jesus forgave his oppressors even after they'd tortured him and crucified him.
Now that's gotta give you pause, and despite the seriousness of the subject to some, perhaps a little laughter — actually, a lot of laughter. But Douthat seemed mystified, as if he's just meeting this guy for the first time and it hasn't been emblematic of Trump's entire raison d'etre since birth. Douthat follows up by noting that Trump has lived one of the most charmed lives in history with wealth and power, and how is it that, given all Trump has been given, he could not possibly forgive his enemies to "enter paradise?"
If one is a believer, you could all but see Jesus looking straight over at God and saying, "Told ya." God wouldn't hear any of it, likely with his head in his palms, wondering how he had constructed such a person. This would, of course, be followed by a recitation of the number of people's lives Trump destroyed, something that would likely deflate the entire soliloquy.
The religious element couldn't matter at all in our everyday lives; we have our own earthly worries which may or may not include epistemological questions, but the answer explains so much of Trump's approach to governance, to his faux friendships, to his assaults — it is always about him and his appetites. This is not news. What is new is the classic framing Douthat gives it. Trump would, quite literally, go to hell before forgiving James Comey, who, as far as we can tell, merely investigated Trump.
The answer also acted like a club over the head of some of Trump's biggest supporters, some of whom must be in shock, given that they believe they most surely will be in heaven without their earthly God, Donald Trump, who, ummm, might be absent? Not judging, just saying.
Speaking of haters, self-appointed guardian of the far right, Franklin Graham, felt compelled to sort of nudge Trump a bit as to where he might've gone wrong, both in the interview and, quite evidently, throughout life. Upon noting that, given a choice, most people would also rather be in heaven than hell, he tweeted:
“But Heaven has borders. Heaven has unique and very strict entrance requirements. To enter Heaven, the Bible tells us that you must acknowledge your sins, turn from them in repentance, and receive Jesus Christ by faith.
Oh, for God's sake, we're right back around to that loving your neighbors as yourself thing. Douthat, having heard Trump would turn down paradise over hating Comey and Pelosi, and picking himself up off the floor, must have stumbled upon something most of us have known for quite a while. So great is Trump's love for himself that hating his earthly enemies is paradise, and buddying up to Comey and Pelosi for eternity must be Trump's definition of hell.
Jason Miciak is a Raw Story columnist, former editor at Occupy Democrats, author, attorney, consultant, and single-parent girldad. Please follow on Bluesky, and he can be reached at jasonmiciak@gmail.com