Christians have always prayed for people in authority, particularly the head of state in whatever place they lived. For centuries, that meant the emperor or king or queen or such like. Since the Revolution, American Christians have prayed for the president. Much of the time, that hasn’t seemed like a problem. If you liked the incumbent, it was kind of like cheering. Even if you didn’t, you still wanted God to aid the president in maintaining the peace and stability of the country.
For many Christians (those at least who actually believe what Jesus said about the importance of loving our neighbors and doing good to those in need) this has become more difficult in the case of the current incumbent. Praying for Mr. Trump may almost seem like praying against the well-being of the country. So I offer some thoughts on the topic.
First, remember that praying for someone is not a way of expressing approval. Praying for any one is a way of laying that person in the hands of God for whatever he or she may need, even if you think that what your object of intercession needs is a swift kick in the pants. To be sure, we assume that God knows better than we do; but prayer does allow us to put our two cents’ worth in.
One way to start, then, is to tell God exactly what you think of Mr. Trump and his policies and even give God some hints as to exactly what you would like God to do to him in recompense for, say, his fostering of white supremacist groups. If you feel your imagination is not up to the task, there are many Psalms—97 is a good example—that can provide some suggestions.
Yes, cursing is one form of intercession, and if that’s how you’re feeling just now, feel free to go right ahead. The Psalmist did. Venting can serve a useful purpose—for a while; and, in any case, there’s no point in covering up how you really feel when you pray since God hears the unspoken prayer as well as the spoken anyway.
Of course, if you take Jesus’ teaching seriously, you’ll be feeling at least a little guilty about this. Telling us to love our neighbors set the bar pretty high; telling us to love our enemies made it uncomfortably exacting and very difficult to fudge. We remember that God loves even the worst of human beings, and there are moments when we all find that a great comfort and reassurance. But must we include Donald Trump? Yes, we must, sooner or later. Loving the Donald doesn’t mean you have to like him or think well of him or excuse him; but it does mean desiring his welfare. And since he is, by the cranky machinery of our constitution, President of the United State, the welfare of the whole nation is in some ways, dependent on his.
The welfare I refer to is not simply physical; it is deeply spiritual. This is no less than a prayer for his salvation. How, then, to pray? We might start with something simple, such as “God, please try to keep him from doing anything that will corrupt or destroy the country he is sworn to lead and protect.” We know, of course, that God doesn’t always save human beings from themselves. But it’s still right to pray that prayer—a prayer that the head of state may at least not destroy the state or abandon its best principles.
We can take this prayer deeper. We can pray that Mr. Trump will begin to notice and understand the true dimensions of his presidential responsibility. More than that, we can pray for the awakening of his soul and spirit. His public record thus far suggests that he has been neglecting the life of the spirit. He managed to convince the Evangelical establishment otherwise before the election, but that didn’t take much since they so much wanted to believe it anyway.
What would I most desire for the President? That he come to some recognition of how much he has taken his wealth and success for granted, of how much he owes to other people and to what he might think of, at first, as sheer luck but might come, over time, to recognize as the undeserved grace of God. In other words, I pray for the kind of conversion that would lead him to a new life.
How can such a thing happen? To some of us, the awareness of God’s love is granted even from our early years. For some, like the Apostle Paul, it takes a blinding vision and a voice, a shattering of soul and spirit that may take many years to come to terms with. For some, it comes through physical suffering. I don’t pray that Mr. Trump suffer. But I do pray that God will use whatever God may find useful in pursuit of this goal.
And, since the Scriptures are quite clear that the greatest of God’s weapons is love, I try, in a still faltering way, to offer to God my love for this sorry man for whom I have so little respect, so much suspicion, so little hope. That love, I hasten to add, includes still opposing him at every wrong turn he takes in whatever small way I can. If God’s love does contrive to get through to him, he will understand that.