August 27, 2025

Hello, fellow wayfarers … What advice I have for President Trump now that he says he’s interested in making it to heaven … How I learned from a reader’s list of 20 things she’s learned in 20 years as an emergency department nurse … Why Sho Baraka thinks we should be concerned about our souls … I respond to a Little Rock reader’s Desert Island Playlist … This is this week’s Moore to the Point.

Advice for Donald Trump on Getting into Heaven

Dear Mr. President,

A reporter asked you not long ago about ending Russia’s war on Ukraine.

“I want to end it,” you said. “I want to try and get to heaven if possible. I’m hearing I’m not doing well. I am really at the bottom of the totem pole. But if I can get to heaven, this will be one of the reasons.” Your campaign political action committee then followed up with an appeal to your supporters to help you get into heaven by giving money.

Regardless of motive, the question you raise is a valid one. So here’s some advice from a nasty man who’s had the same obstacles you have in reaching heaven.

Let me start by confessing that—as much as I warn Christians about the politicization of religion and the religionification of politics—I am tempted to turn this into a critique of your character and your policies (especially in regard to vulnerable people). But that would further your problem. The Bible has a lot to say about how “rulers” govern, and you will indeed be judged, like everyone else, for how you used your power.

Your comment evidences that you think you can get right with God through a policy win (Eph. 2:8–9). But Jesus never let people stagnate in their confusion. And this note to you would be different if you were arguing (as some of your supporters do) that your wrong actions don’t affect what it means to be Christian. You’re right; what you do does matter for heaven—just not in the way you’re framing it here.

So let me start with Jesus and finish with Jesus. This is by no means everything—just the start of a conversation, if you want to have it.

You’re aware of the life of Jesus of Nazareth, of his teaching, his healing, his casting out of demons. You’re also aware that he claimed certain things about himself—that the story of Israel found in the Scriptures had found its ultimate goal in him and that he was one with the God revealed in those Scriptures. He is the eternal Word of God come among us in the flesh (John 1:1–14). He announced that, in him, the kingdom of God had arrived in person (Luke 17:20–21) and that those who follow him will be with him in the new creation to come, the home he is preparing for them (John 14:1–6).

You’re aware that he was crucified, and I know from your talk about Easter that you are aware that he was raised from the dead and went back to the mysterious spiritual places from which he came, and that one day he will return for those who are waiting for him. The Resurrection wasn’t just a happy ending to a sad story—and it certainly wasn’t a “comeback,” the way you might compare it to your own story.

In the resurrection of Jesus, God started the new creation he promised through Isaiah and Jeremiah and Amos. And he kept the promises he made to Abraham and Moses and David. Jesus voluntarily entered into all the judgment and curses the Bible warned about for the sake of the world, all the way to the cross itself, bearing the weight and curse of sin that was not his own (2 Cor. 5:21).

Humanity wants to go its own way, and has from the start of our story (Isa. 53:6). The only human being who has ever listened wholeheartedly to the voice of God, who has pioneered the way back to the presence of God, is his Son, Jesus.

When the Bible says from God, “I’m going to judge everybody who sins,” that is a list that includes every one of us except Jesus. And when the Bible says, “Those who are in communion with me, and not captive to sin and cursed with death, can enter my presence,” that narrows the list down to nobody except Jesus (Rom. 6:23).

What Jesus’ followers—who saw him alive—claimed is that everyone whose life is joined to him can find life, can stand in the presence of God, can be reconciled to him. Such people will find that there is no fear for them on Judgment Day because, in Christ, they’ve already been through judgment (Rom. 8:1). These people will find that, regardless of all the bad things they’ve done and thought and said, they are forgiven through the blood shed by Jesus (1 John 1:7).

How does one do that? Jesus said we can’t do it on our own—even if we were to negotiate a peace deal with Russia or even if we were to negotiate a permanent peace deal with the whole world.

In fact, Jesus used the imagery of one universal experience over which we cannot claim to have earned or achieved anything: being born (John 3:3). Jesus and his apostles said that all of us want to be employees or entrepreneurs, to earn our standing before God. If you think about it, that feels like power, doesn’t it? You hire people and fire them all the time. You exchange with them some money and a little bit of your power for their work for you.

But when it comes to God, that way leads to slavery and death. That’s because it keeps us on the old path of exalting ourselves. You’re not the only one who wants your name on every building or your face on every banner. In a certain sense, we all do.

There’s some bad news here for you. Jesus said that it is very difficult for those who are wealthy or powerful to enter his kingdom (Mark 10:25). He said that to follow him means we lose our lives in order to find them again in his life. That means counting a cost. Some rich and powerful people loved their stuff and their fame too much. Some didn’t realize that what they thought was “winning” was really just a vapor of nothing, until it was too late.

But there’s good news too. It’s hard for me to say it, because I resent a lot of what you’ve done and the way you’ve insisted on inserting yourself into every family, church, friendship, and conversation—the way you’ve upended my own life. I’d kind of like to see you get your comeuppance. And that means I would kind of grumble if I saw you next to me in worship in glory.

That part of me is of the Devil. Jesus reminds me that he was gladly willing to receive repentant people who defrauded others (Luke 19:9–10), who committed probably insurrectionist violence (23:43), and who were morally promiscuous (Matt. 21:31).

For me to have anything but gladness, should you ever find Jesus, would be a denial of all for which Jesus has forgiven me. In fact, it would mean a denial of the Good News I’ve received, because it would seem to be saying that I somehow deserve to be in God’s presence more than you. That’s just not true, and I know it. My sin separates me just as far from God as your sin does you.

And I have to fight just as much the urge to want to earn my way into God’s favor. You and I would both agree (for different reasons) that you are “one of a kind” in a lot of ways. But in this one, you are just like everyone else.

To actually enter heaven, you have to give up that mindset of earning your way there. You have to recognize your own need for something you can’t win or achieve or earn. You have to consider Donald Trump to be the wrong path for you. In fact, you have to consider Donald Trump to be dead.

If you confess that brokenness and need, though, you will find forgiveness. If you believe that God has raised Jesus from the dead and that he is the Lord you wish to follow, you will find that you have a place in Christ, which means his life is your life. He is in heaven—and if you’re part of him, you will be there too (Col. 3:1–3).

But following Christ means heaven is very different from what you seem to think it means now. You probably think of a kind of eternal Mar-a-Lago, maybe with less gold, where everyone says “Sir” to you and tells you how tired they are of winning. Heaven is quite different. By the time you get there, should you decide to go this Way, you will find that you want something completely different.

You will see God in such a way that you will be changed into an entirely different form of life (Matt. 5:8). None of the stuff you think is important now will be. Lots of stuff you dismiss now will turn out to really matter. You might also be surprised to find that an impoverished Salvadoran maid in one of your hotels right now will then be ruling and reigning, more famous than you (James 2:1–8). You will find that Jesus was hidden in the lives of people who would never get White House invitations (Matt. 25:31–46).

I suppose I am trying to, in your mind, Make Heaven Great Again.

Will that mean changes for you now? Oh yes. You will see that cruelty, revenge, and glitz are the wrong way (Gal. 5:22–23). You will find that the Spirit will point you in another direction (Luke 3:10–14). You’ll fail and stumble, to be sure, but the centrality of self will be at war with the Spirit of Jesus, and ultimately the Spirit will win.

Again, there’s a lot more to say. Repent of your sin. Believe in Jesus: crucified, bearing your sins, and resurrected for you. In your heart, believe in Jesus as Lord, and with your mouth, say it—not to win over any constituency or to gain approval but because, in your heart, you believe it (Rom. 10:9–10). Seek him—maybe even start by saying, “I want to look for you but I don’t know where to find you,” and you will find him (Isa. 52:6; Matt. 7:7–8).

But first things first. Put aside any way of earning your way out of the lowest place on "the totem pole” in order to get right with God. You can’t do it—in a trillion lifetimes.

To see the way to heaven, stop thinking of yourself as a president or a billionaire, if only for a moment. Think of yourself as a little child—weak and dependent—and in need of a Father who is not impressed with you but who loves you and who will receive you (Matt. 18:3).

You can’t get to heaven with the art of the deal.

20 Things a Reader Has Learned as an Emergency Department Nurse

I think I have received more feedback on last week’s “30 Things I’ve Learned in 30 Years of Ministry” than anything I have written here, maybe since the week of January 6, 2021. I was fascinated by an email from reader Sarah Stratton, who’s been working in hospital emergency departments since she was a nursing student at Auburn University, all the way to being in charge of a California hospital emergency department at the height of COVID-19. She sent along her “20 Things I’ve Learned in 20 Years in the Emergency Department.”

Here’s Sarah’s list:

1. Don’t do drugs. Ever. Not once. Nancy Reagan was right.

2. Hustle is a muscle. You can grow it, but you have to keep hustling to be able to hustle more. Diet Coke and sugar help a little.

3. When you just can’t seem to see the image of God in a patient, don’t go in their room alone.

4. Don’t delegate a job you haven’t done yourself (unless it’s outside your scope).

5. Cheerleading works better for motivation than criticism does.

6. The only things that can’t be changed by teaching are laziness and apathy toward suffering.

7. Every patient you meet has a story; it’s up to you to be willing to ask for it, and finding their story is the most wonderful part of caring for a patient. I’ve heard stories about war, professional sports, politics, first love, and adventure on the high seas. It’s made my life rich and the patient feel as if they are more than their illness or age.

8. No mess is too big to clean. No amount of diarrhea, vomit, lice, maggots, or blood is too much for you to clean and make someone feel dignified again.

9. Homelessness has many causes; most of them aren’t just people doing drugs.

10. Go with your gut. When you think a patient is going to act dangerously, protect your staff from the jump.

11. Always ask a patient who comes in drunk/high/stabbed/bloody from a fight or overdose, “Do you have anything in your pockets that could hurt us?” It will save you a sea of pain and turmoil, and they usually tell the truth.

12. There is a line between saving someone and making them a science experiment. It’s different for each patient, and you’ll know it when you see it.

13. Saving someone’s life with a team is the BEST, BEST, BEST thing that will happen to you besides having your own child. Giving that patient a hug weeks later is a taste of heaven.

14. Ask to see pictures of your colleagues’ kids. You’ll only have to do this if you stay off social media, which you should, of course, stay off.

15. Always ask about patients’ home life. It could explain everything.

16. When you feel stuck as the leader, pray for wisdom and ask yourself, “What would a benevolent, loving mother do?” It has helped me know when someone needs to be pushed an