I grew up Pentecostal, the kind of Pentecostal that believed God could speak through dreams, tongues, and the occasional awkward silence between altar calls. We were the kind of church folks who believed in the Book of Acts like it just happened last Tuesday โ the fire, the rushing wind, the miracles, and the warnings. We sang about being strangers in a strange land, pilgrims just passing through. And if there was one thing we were sure of, it was this: God didnโt need Washington to get His work done.
We didnโt confuse politicians with prophets or ballots with blessings. At least not back then.
The Dangerous Blending of Faith and Politics
But somewhere along the way โ and Iโve watched this in real time with grief and trembling โ much of what passes for Pentecostalism in America today has traded in its upper-room humility for a seat at Caesarโs table. The Holy Ghost we once said could not be controlled is now conveniently scripted into partisan talking points and campaign rallies. Thatโs why, when I heard Paula White-Cain โ a fellow Pentecostal by background โ say that โsaying no to President Trump would be like saying no to God,โ I didnโt just wince. I wept.
Because thatโs not just a poorly worded endorsement. Thatโs blasphemy.
Itโs not just a theological mistake. Itโs a spiritual crisis. A flashing red warning light for both American Christianity and American democracy. And if the Pentecostal tradition that raised me taught me anything, itโs that when the Spirit convicts, youโd better listen. And friends, the Spirit is convicting.
No, Donald Trump Is Not God
Letโs start with the obvious: Donald Trump is not God. Heโs not the Messiah, not the Second Coming, not the chosen one, not a Cyrus figure, not King David reincarnated. He is a former reality TV host who rode a wave of white grievance and evangelical insecurity all the way to the White House. He is a man โ just a man โ flawed like the rest of us, but uniquely gifted at seducing Christians into believing that political dominance is the same thing as spiritual victory.
Paula White-Cainโs statement is a symptom of that seduction. Itโs what happens when we confuse access to power with anointing from heaven. Itโs what happens when the church no longer tests the spirits to see if they are of God, because they already have a seat at the prayer breakfast.
American Idolatry: When Politics Becomes Religion
This isnโt new. The temptation to bow to golden statues has always been strong. But the tragedy is that we are supposed to know better. Pentecostals, of all people, should know the difference between revival and rhetoric, between the Spirit and the spectacle. But too many of us have become complicit in building a political religion that bears no resemblance to the gospel we once shouted and danced over.
The Jesus I met in my Pentecostal upbringing wasnโt draped in a flag. He wasnโt promising tax cuts or Supreme Court justices. He wasnโt calling down fire on his enemies or making backroom deals with kings. He was washing feet. Healing the sick. Welcoming the outsider. Tearing down every dividing wall of hostility โincluding the ones built by religious folks who thought they were too holy to be humble.
The Cost of Christian Nationalism
The phrase โsaying no to Trump is like saying no to Godโ doesnโt just go against the grain of good theology; it spits in the face of the crucified Christ. It replaces the suffering servant with a swaggering strongman. Itโs a golden calf moment, pure and simple. The only difference is that instead of melting down our earrings to make an idol, weโre melting down our integrity.
Let me say it plainly: To equate loyalty to Donald Trump with loyalty to God is idolatry. Full stop.
And idolatry is never harmless. It always exacts a price. In this case, itโs costing us our witness. The American church, especially the white evangelical and Pentecostal varieties, has lost credibility with the very people with whom Jesus most identified: the poor, the oppressed, the marginalized. Why? Because weโve been too busy playing court prophet to this would-be king who demands allegiance, while the true King invites us to repentance.
What True Pentecostal Faith Looks Like
Itโs as if weโve forgotten the cost of discipleship. Following Jesus isnโt about winning culture wars; itโs about losing ourselves for the sake of the Kingdom. Itโs not about having the right enemies; itโs about having the right heart.
I want to be part of a church that remembers how to say no to the empires of this world. A church thatโs more interested in foot washing than flag-waving. A church that doesnโt need a Faith Office in the White House to feel validated. A church that doesnโt trade tongues of fire for talking points and campaign slogans.
The Pentecostalism that raised me wasnโt perfect; we had our legalisms, our excesses, our theological rabbit trails, but when we got it right, we got this right: Jesus was Lord, and nothing else was. Not money. Not the government. Not even America.
The irony, of course, is that true Pentecostal fire always burns hottest when weโre on the margins, not the throne. The Spirit didnโt fall in Caesarโs palace; it fell in an upper room filled with nobodies. And that same Spirit is still whispering today, calling us to repentance, to humility, to love.
Why Iโm Saying No to Trump and Yes to Jesus
So yes, I will say no to Donald Trump. Not because I hate him. Not because Iโm a Democrat. Not because Iโve lost my religion. But because I remember the Jesus I met in my Pentecostal childhood โ the one who came not to be served, but to serve. The one who still asks hard questions about how we treat the least of these.
I will say yes to that Jesus every time.
Yes to the hard road of faithfulness.
Yes to the Spirit who convicts, not coddles.
Yes to a church that refuses to bow to Babylon, no matter how shiny the statue.
Jesus was right when he said, โYou canโt serve God and Mammon.โ
In a time when so many are selling their souls for proximity to power, saying no to Trump might just be the clearest way to say yes to God.
Image: Pamela Reynoso
Well said.