Pope Trump Isn’t Offensive To Christians, Abortion Is!

When the World Gets It Backward: Pope Trump Meme vs. the True Offense

This morning started like most others—I brewed my coffee, opened the curtains to let in the soft morning light, and flipped on the TV for a few minutes of news while I settled into the Word. But what I saw today unsettled my spirit. A reporter—stone-faced and full of smugness—asked President Trump if he thought his “Pope Trump” social media post was offensive to Christians.

I nearly spilled my coffee.

Offensive to Christians? I wanted to yell at the screen, “No, abortion is offensive to Christians!”

I sat there stunned, not because I hadn’t heard this kind of media manipulation before, but because it still cuts deep every time they twist what matters. They mock faith with one hand and defend the killing of the unborn with the other—and then have the audacity to claim they’re standing on moral high ground?

What breaks my heart more is knowing how many people watch that same program and nod in agreement. How many people are conditioned to think that a meme or a nickname for a political leader is somehow more scandalous than the destruction of millions of innocent lives.

Lord, have mercy on us.

I felt compelled to go to the Word. I opened my Bible and landed in Proverbs 17:15, which says: “He who justifies the wicked and he who condemns the righteous are both alike an abomination to the Lord.”

And that’s what we saw on display this morning. Justification of wickedness. Condemnation of righteousness. People scandalized by sarcasm or titles—but silent about babies torn apart in the womb.

Father, awaken the conscience of this nation.

As I prayed, I thought of Isaiah 5:20: “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness.” How clearly we are living in those days. What is holy is mocked. What is evil is protected by law and championed by influencers.

The reporter didn’t want to talk about abortion. That would’ve been uncomfortable. That might’ve exposed the real offense. Instead, they chose to paint Christians as delicate little flowers who can’t handle satire—but the truth is, we’re not offended by posts. We’re wounded by sin. We’re grieved by murder.

I don’t think Trump calling himself “Pope Trump” was some theological statement. It was political irony. Maybe even poor taste. But certainly not the kind of moral offense that should headline a broadcast.

But abortion… oh Lord, abortion is a sin that cries out to heaven.

In Genesis 4:10, after Cain murdered Abel, God said: “The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground.” I believe the blood of these innocent children cries to God too. And if it breaks His heart, it should break ours even more.

So I sat there, Bible in my lap, asking God to help me see clearly and not get caught up in the noise. We are surrounded by distractions—headlines, hashtags, and hollow arguments. The enemy knows if he can keep us offended by trivial things, we won’t have energy left to stand against true evil.

Dear God, give me courage to speak when I’m tempted to stay silent. Give me discernment to know what truly matters. Let me not be distracted by the theatrics of this age.

I kept praying:

“Jesus, forgive this nation. Forgive us for our silence, for our distraction, for the ways we have allowed the culture to dictate our values instead of Your Word. Let us not be ashamed of Your truth, even when it’s unpopular. Even when we’re mocked. Even when they try to cancel us. Lord, give us strength like Daniel, like Esther, like Paul. We don’t want to offend man—we want to honor You.”

After I calmed down, I realized something. The reporter’s question—while frustrating—was also a reminder. A reminder that we are not at home in this world. The media doesn’t speak our language. They don’t share our values. They don’t understand our grief. And that’s okay. We’re not called to be liked. We’re called to be faithful.

Romans 12:2 came to mind: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.”

So I renewed my mind this morning. I turned off the TV and turned to prayer.

I wept. I prayed for the unborn. I prayed for our leaders. I even prayed for the reporter. And I prayed for my own heart—that I wouldn’t become bitter or jaded, but tender and ready to speak truth in love.

And now, as I write this, I feel peace.

Not because the situation is fixed. Not because the media has changed. But because Jesus is still King, and He is not silent. He sees. He knows. He will bring justice.

In the meantime, I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep praying. I’ll keep standing.

Even if they call us foolish. Even if they misrepresent our faith. Even if they say, “Christians are offended by Trump’s jokes,” while ignoring the cries of the unborn—I will not be moved.

Because the real offense is not a meme.

The real offense is the sin that separates us from God—and the apathy that lets it flourish.

Lord, forgive us. Revive us. Make us bold again.