Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde just pleaded for mercy. Trump couldn't handle it.
Editor's note: Letters to the editor reflect the views of individual readers. Scroll to the bottom to see how you can add your voice, whether you agree or disagree. We welcome diverse viewpoints.
Episcopalian Bishop Mariann Budde's sermon at the National Cathedral was the epitome of civility while speaking truth to power, along with the actual teachings of Jesus.
The crowd shots of the president, vice president and their families were very telling on many levels.
There were times inklings of deep thoughtfulness showed on some of the faces who listened, and fleeting moments where it seemed Budde's message got through.
Those were mixed with arrogance, immediate dismissiveness, contempt, utter contempt and blatant disrespect from some attendees.
Smirking and sneering smiles, talking not listening, having their own private jokes and unabashed indignance were also evident. Heartening and disheartening at the same time.
When questioned after the gathering, our president said he didn't think it was very exciting or good.
God have mercy on our country the next four years.
My hope is folks will watch the sermon multiple times and decide for themselves who these people really are deep down inside. The cruelty of policies coming for us all is certainly not what Christ taught. Not Sermon on the Mount. The executive orders already signed prove it.
Mary Collins, Nashville 37221
Agree or disagree? Or have a view on another topic entirely? Send a letter of 250 words or fewer to letters@tennessean.com. Include your full name, city/town, ZIP and contact information for verification. Thanks for adding to the public conversation.
This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: Episcopal bishop called for mercy so Trump lashed out | Letter
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I was already redefining my understanding of what we call 'God,' though I'd kept the process internal. After three months without the unrecognized pressure of church demands, I felt more liberated than ever before. I dove into philosophy and never looked seen religion from the inside, then the outside, I have realized it is a false certainty, a vain shield against taking life at face value. I no longer need the 'certainty,' I never did, really, but I grew up with religion, so it was never questioned. Religion is my past. I'll never return,"—Anonymous, 60+, Michigan "When my mom, who had attended and volunteered with this church for about two decades, was bedridden in hospice, I emailed the leadership to see if they could send one of the pastors to meet and pray with her. I got a reply with the day/time of a support group at the church, which was unhelpful and irrelevant. They couldn't be bothered to be there for us in our time of need." "Our final straw was the church's overt pulpit celebration of the Supreme Court overturning Roe vs Wade. We have two young daughters who now have less autonomy over their bodies than I did at their age." "This situation happened about 20 years ago at a Southern Baptist church to my best friend, but it made us both leave: She developed a sex addiction (her words) and would hook up with guys at clubs and bars for one-night stands. She became pregnant. She didn't know who the father was, but she knew she didn't want an abortion, so she confided in the church elders about it." 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The services were televised, so they didn't let people sit in the back, but rather made them fill in the seats in front so it would look good for TV. I wanted to sit towards the back of an aisle so I could use the bathroom as needed due to a medical condition." "I quit attending a mega-church because I saw how finances were mismanaged. The Pastor would take 'specific' people to expensive restaurants and spend $1,000 on meals ($500 gift cards were also given to people as an appreciation). The leadership was very cliquish as well. If you were in their life group, you received special treatment." "I was a single parent with a daughter who fell on hard times financially, so I decided to swallow my pride and reach out to my church's food pantry so we could make it until my next pay day. When I called, I was told they didn't have any food available and that I should try other resources. I was dumbfounded. Just the previous Sunday, the pastor bragged in the pulpit that the church had surpassed 20,000+ registered members. I realized then the church only cared about optics, not meeting members' needs. It was a sad realization because I volunteered and was involved in the church. I changed churches soon after, but after witnessing the same kind of atmosphere, I quit going to church altogether."—Jennifer H, 55, Houston, TX "I was a member of a mega-church for 18 years. The first straw was when they let my ex become an 'alpha' leader and allowed him to publish a story about the end of our relationship in the church news, which was very one-sided and embarrassed me." "Our last straw attending a mega-church in Texas was when the pastor described coming across an unhoused individual walking around with a brown paper bag. I thought his sermon would be about helping the less fortunate, addiction, or not judging others because we are all God's children." "I was not only a congregant but also a youth pastor for a period of time. I left the church in 2016, when it became clear that they all worshipped a false idol. That idol's name is Donald Trump." "They all convinced themselves that Trump is a god, and anyone who disagreed was either possessed or under the rule of Satan. It was so sad to see, but no one can convince me that a lifelong sleazeball was anointed by God."—Matt, 38 Did any of these stories surprise you? Have you ever attended and later left a "mega-church"? Tell us your story in the comments or answer anonymously using this form! Dial 988 in the United States to reach the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. The 988 Lifeline is available 24/7/365. Your conversations are free and confidential. Other international suicide helplines can be found at The Trevor Project, which provides help and suicide-prevention resources for LGBTQ youth, is 1-866-488-7386. If you or someone you know is in immediate danger as a result of domestic violence, call 911. For anonymous, confidential help, you can call the 24/7 National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 (SAFE) or chat with an advocate via the website. If you or someone you know has experienced anti-LGBTQ violence or harassment, you can contact the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs hotline at 1-212-714-1141. If you or someone you know has experienced sexual assault, you can call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-4673 (HOPE), which routes the caller to their nearest sexual assault service provider. You can also search for your local center here. The National Alliance on Mental Illness helpline is 1-800-950-6264 (NAMI) and provides information and referral services; is an association of mental health professionals from more than 25 countries who support efforts to reduce harm in therapy.
