Our Mockery of Trump’s Jesus Meme Shows Us That We’re Winning

by | Apr 24, 2026 | Opinions & Commentary

Our Mockery of Trump’s Jesus Meme Shows Us That We’re Winning

by | Apr 24, 2026 | Opinions & Commentary

Our ability to laugh at this man and his movement isn’t just a defense mechanism staving off hopelessness in a dire situation; it is a sure and steadfast declaration that we will not kiss the ring.

Republished with permission from John Pavlovitz

Donald Trump committed blasphememe.

He reposted an AI-slop, pseudo-Baroque, Jesus-coded conservative fever-dream fresco of himself in a flowing red and white robe, his glowing hand resting over the forehead of a stricken male, while flanked by a series of awestruck, reverent figures, each one whiter than the other.

A rockets’ red glare hodgepodge of cheesy, street corner souvenir shop American iconography (including some bizarre video-game, science-fiction alien army) sits above Trump, like a radiant crown of divine approval.

As always, the failing, flailing president thought it would be a much-needed easy win: something he could impulsively lob into the ether without consequence; something to fully own the Libs and titillate his cultic devotees.

Things didn’t go as he planned.

In a week where Trump was tripling down on his ill-conceived attacks on Pope Leo for the Pontiff’s criticisms of the illegal and immoral war in Iran (and his annoying habit of quoting Jesus), this self-aggrandizing bit of messiah porn proved too much, even for many of Trump’s sycophantic disciples. Members of the clergy, Republican politicians, Conservative talk-show hosts, MAGA influencers, and a larger-than-normal portion of his historically obedient rank-and-file voiced their displeasure at such unabashed heresy.

Things got so bad that in what should have been another curated self-serving photo op for Trump in front of the White House, he ended up facing reporters’ questions about the meme. Clearly rattled by the pushback, the lame-duck wanna-be despot responded by suggesting that he thought the image was of him as a doctor healing a man, and then invoked the Red Cross… for some reason.

Outside of the most cultic of his supporters, nobody was buying it.

The Internet, which once again remains undefeated, responded with an unrelenting tsunami of ridicule, the likes of which we haven’t seen… well, since No King’s Day. Over the past twenty-four hours, my social media feed has been filled with gut-busting mockery of Trump’s delusional propaganda and his flimsy attempts to cover his own assets when he failed to read the room.

The sarcasm has been thick; the skewering, merciless; the satire, scathing.

It’s been cathartic to joy-scroll through and laugh mightily at Trump’s expense, but more than that, the jokes reveal how close this aspiring fascist regime is to crumbling, while reminding us of the subversive power of laughter.

Authoritarians are, at their core, narcissists, and all narcissists crave adoration. Reverence is their lifeblood, accolades the air they breathe. Outwardly overconfident but internally fragile, more than having their names on currency, grand ballrooms, or opulent public monuments, they subsist on the praise and flattery of others.

Trump may be the most miserable, needy, and delicate of history’s recent tyrants, and finding himself in the crosshairs of pubic scorn undoubtedly rattles him. He so desires the accolades of strangers that when he is instead met with derision, he falls apart, unable to relate to human beings who are not genuflecting before him. Ridicule is his kryptonite.

This is the path forward.

Yes, we will need to continue to organize politically, to form broad coalitions of opposition, to wield our financial influence. We will need to marshal our collective power in securing free elections in the Fall, protect our vulnerable neighbors, condemn unjust wars, and resist civil and human rights rollbacks. We need to do the difficult, costly, exhausting, and painful work of resisting this very real threat to our Republic.

But we can’t forget that it is our joy that makes us different.

Our ability to laugh at this man and his movement isn’t just a defense mechanism staving off hopelessness in a dire situation; it is a sure and steadfast declaration that we will not kiss the ring, we do not comply, and we refuse to become as deeply unhappy as those who stand opposite us.

Respect, awe, and blind worship are the food of the Narcissist-In-Chief, and together, we will starve him.

My friends, keep laughing, keep mocking, keep ridiculing, and stay joyful.

There is a power there that cannot be defeated.

John Pavlovitz

John Pavlovitz

John Pavlovitz is a writer, pastor, and activist from Wake Forest, North Carolina. A 25-year veteran in the trenches of local church ministry, John is committed to equality, diversity, and justice—both inside and outside faith communities. When not actively working for a more compassionate planet, John enjoys spending time with his family, exercising, cooking, and having time in nature. He is the author of A Bigger Table, Hope and Other Superpowers, Low, and Stuff That Needs to Be Said.

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