Confessions of an Erstwhile #NeverTrumper

I have been a #NeverTrumper for more than four years now, and much of my opposition to Trump has stemmed from my Christian commitment, or so I have said. But my #NeverTrumpism has not been a static thing, and over the last four years, I have come to several realizations that I confess here in the hope that they will inspire other Christians to learn from my mistakes.

Confession #1: I was a knee-jerk #NeverTrumper. I became a #NeverTrumper on June 16, 2015, the day Donald Trump rode the “golden escalator” to his candidacy. But my early opposition to Trump was more out of annoyance than out of principle – I did not take Donald Trump seriously as a candidate, and I feared that his brand of showmanship would demean the electoral process (and it did). I wanted Trump to get out of the way so that the “more serious” candidates could get down to debating the issues. But I badly underestimated candidate Trump. I did not recognize that Trump’s candidacy was for real until he had all but sealed up the nomination, at which point I was forced to replace my knee-jerk #NeverTrumpism with a more serious consideration of candidate Trump’s merits.

Confession #2: My #NeverTrumpism was a form of virtue signaling. My first instinct post-nomination was to say that there is a minimum standard of moral acceptability to win my vote and that Donald Trump did not make the cut. I dismissed arguments to the contrary as “mere consequentialism.” I was better than that. I would not sully myself with a vote for the morally flawed Donald Trump, as though a morally depraved creature like me could further corrupt myself by casting a vote. If I am being honest, I wanted it to be known that I was more virtuous than Trump (and perhaps more virtuous than those who were willing to vote for Trump). Of course, I never quite put it that way, by I am afraid my Trump supporting friends got the message.

Confession #3: My #NeverTrumpism survived my realization that every vote is a vote for the lesser evil. Not until the month before the election did I discern that my opposition to Trump might not be based on some transcendent moral principle. But sustained reflection forced me to admit that any vote for a human was a vote for a depraved creature. Jesus never is on the ballot. This realization led me to the next leg of my #NeverTrumpist journey – the utilitarian calculus. I finally reconsidered all the “consequentialist” arguments that Trump supporters had been making to me. What about the Supreme Court? What about religious liberty? What about limited government? My ultimate decision to reject Trump in 2016 was based on a complicated calculation that concluded Trump probably was the more dangerous of the two leading candidates. (Perhaps it was my refusal to vote for Hillary either that was based on moral principle?)

Confession #4: Reasonable Christian minds could differ on voting for Trump. Such complicated utilitarian calculations about votes are notoriously not susceptible to precise mathematical quantification. Therefore, my former #NeverTrump moral dogmatism was unjustified. As a Christian, I should categorize such difficult voting choices under the “doubtful things” of Romans 14. Much too late, I finally stopped questioning the morals of my Christian brothers and sisters who chose to vote for Trump. I do not know now how I could not have seen this ambiguity when I myself felt compelled to vote for a third-party candidate, a sure loser. But by Election Day, my previously virulent and judgmental #NeverTrumpism was watered down to a third-party protest vote combined with a more live-and-let-live attitude.

Confession #5: I was a jerk. I stand by my 2016 #NeverTrump vote, but I am not proud of everything I did leading up to Election Day. Like many #NeverTrumpers, I was brash and outspoken. That is a nice way of saying I was an obnoxious jerk. I alienated some of my friends, including some of my Christian friends. Well, with 2020 around the corner, I am determined to do better this time.

Confession #6: My #NeverTrumpism was placed in abeyance when Trump became president. I fought vociferously, even viciously, against the Trump candidacy until Election Day, but once he became president, he became my president. Christian #NeverTrumpers can’t be part of the not-my-president crowd. Romans 13 (among other Scriptures) does not permit that.

Confession #7: The calculus in 2020 might be different. Will I still be a #NeverTrumper in 2020? We’ll see. The landscape in which I will make that decision certainly has shifted. First, in 2016, I discounted all of the consequentialist arguments Trump supporters made because I simply did not trust Trump to do what he promised, and with good reason – his relationship with veracity has been strained, at best. But I have to admit that President Trump has pretty much done what candidate Trump said he would do, and I like most of his administration, if not his style. Second, while President Trump has been just as personally embarrassing as advertised, my worst fears of international destabilization have not come to fruition. So, for me, Trump’s pluses have increased and his minuses have somewhat diminished. And with leading democrat candidates running on potentially disastrous policies like taxpayer-funded abortion on demand, the Green New Deal, Medicare for all (including illegal immigrants), reparations for slavery, and an aggressive agenda against Christian dissenters, voting for President Trump in 2020, depending on his democratic opponent, is no longer entirely out of the question for me. So by the time the major parties choose their candidates, I may be a #MaybeTrumper.

Confession #8: Important remnants of my #NeverTrumpism remain. But even if I “ever” vote for Trump, certain “nevers” will remain. First, I will never praise his personal virtue. It should go without saying that praising evil is wrong, and yet Jerry Falwell Jr. has compared Trump to Jesus. To Christians, that should be beyond offensive. You always know that someone is about to excuse Trump’s evil when they lead with, “I know Trump’s not perfect, but” . . . . “Not perfect” does not quite cover Trump’s moral flaws. Of course he is not perfect. Nobody is perfect. Those who say Trump is “not perfect” are providing cover for the fact that he is one of the more despicable human beings to whom most of us ever will be exposed. I have heard Christians praise Trump as a “great family man” (apparently because he has provided for his children financially) even though he was essentially absent as his children were raised by his serially abandoned wives. This sort of praise of Trump from Christians demeans true Christian virtue. If I ever vote for Trump, I will do so while holding my nose, not while praising his non-existent personal virtue. I will show no enthusiasm for what I believe I must do. My Christian testimony demands as much.

Second, if I “ever” vote for Trump, I must “never” criticize democrats for ignoring their candidates’ moral flaws. Hypocrisy still is wrong. Remember this passage from the 1998 “declaration concerning religion, ethics, and the crisis in the Clinton presidency”? “But we maintain that in general there is a reasonable threshold of behavior beneath which our public leaders should not fall, because the moral character of a people is more important than the tenure of a particular politician or the protection of a particular political agenda.” Some who signed this declaration that President Clinton was unfit because he had sex with an intern in the Oval Office have given serial adulterer President Trump a pass. We have to be consistent. Either there is a moral minimum for president, or there is not. I have reluctantly concluded that maybe there is not. If there is a moral minimum standard, I do not see how President Trump can get over even a minimal bar.

Third, if I “ever” vote for Trump, I am determined “never” to do so out of fear. In support of candidate Trump, evangelical icon, Dr. James Dobson said, “Hillary scares me to death.” That kind of fear is not a good look for a Christian who supposedly trusts a sovereign, omnipotent, and loving God in whose hand is the heart of the king. I am determined not to vote out of fear.

Fourth, even if I “ever” vote for Trump, I will never violate my conscience to do so. If I get in the voting booth and find that I just do not feel right about the vote, I will not cast it. As Martin Luther declared before the Diet of Worms, “to go against conscience is neither right nor safe.” I still reject consequentialism, so I am pretty sure God does not need my vote to accomplish His will, and I am even more sure that He does not expect me to violate my conscience (even if my conscience is too weak) in service to some political end that He can accomplish without me.