There’d be little left of Trump if he arrived at the Pearly Gates 

Even the name of the sponsoring group was a bit strange: The rally, last Friday, in West Palm Beach, FL, was called the Turning Point USA Believers Summit, hosted by the Turning Point Action advocacy group. A homogenous group of like-minded Christian nationalists, it hopes to turn our country into the Christian nation that the Founding Fathers were so dead-set against.

Like in most of Donald Trump’s rallies—and advised against by his wary speechwriters—Trump may have launched into his speech with the understanding that his OTT rhetoric was becoming a turn-off for the more moderate of his throng.

But, as always, he found that it’s hard to keep the real Donald Trump hidden from view, and he was unable to keep his endless overstatements, outrageous insults, colossal lies and idiotic superlatives out of the mix.

The speech ended up in a gushing appreciation of fellow Christians, which rivaled the best of old-fashioned traveling tent revivals. (Step right up here, folks, and be saved.)

“I love you, Christians. I’m a Christian. I love you, you got to get out and vote. In four years, you don’t have to vote again. We’ll have it fixed so good, you’re not going to have to vote.”

I’m not sure what the crowd was thinking, but Trump’s words were a departure from the typical. He actually tried to pass himself off as a believer. For at least a moment, some of the crowd must have considered the possibility: “Maybe he really is one of us, and it’s not all about getting our vote.”

So, who could question Trump’s sincerity? After all, he wouldn’t lie about it, would he?

There’s always the remote possibility—kind of like the little Dutch boy who repeatedly reported leaks in the dike, or the boy who was always crying “Wolf,” just so he could see the hunters respond—that this time it’s finally for real. Of course, Christianity teaches that no man should judge another, so who could possibly question Trump’s sincerity. After all, frolicking with hookers and robbing the vulnerable are both, according to the Bible, forgivable sins—as is the amoral use of others in feathering one’s own nest.

For those who find Trump’s newfound dedication to “Christ” a stretch of the imagination, it is important to recognize the possibility that even the worst of men may be capable of changing. It doesn’t matter that the old, ever-growing pile of damning evidence against him contains nothing to suggest that Trump has any redeeming value. Christians understand that they must consider that real penitence is actually a possibility.

Yes, folks, the Bible’s very clear: Even a reprobate-thug-fraudster-condemned felon-whoremonger-liar could very well be there, right with the best of them, at St. Peter’s pearly gates.

Close your eyes for just a moment; try to visualize Donald Trump, unburdened of his countless sins, arriving at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter runs out to greet him, with a warm “Hello, Donald. Welcome to heaven. Your handicap parking space is reserved.”

A “handicapped” parking space?

Well, of course, it would have to be. Remembering the words of Christ in his Sermon on the Mount, it suddenly makes total sense. “And if thine right hand offends thee, cut it off.” And, “if your right eye offendeth thee, pluck it out.” Needless to say, if Trump did end up at heaven’s gate, there wouldn’t be much left of him.

The eyes would have been the first things to go in a totally remade version of Trump. From his first unholy thought about Ivanka and his lustful strides through the Miss America changing room, it would have been clear to a penitent Trump that both his eyes needed plucking.

And the hands that had grabbed women’s crotches throughout his life? They’d have to have been chopped off years ago. And the chopping wouldn’t have stopped there. The arms that Trump had used to strong-arm and bully others, from the very beginning, would logically be reduced to stumps, creating a real challenge to look good in his custom-tailored suits.

Below the waist, no part of him would have survived the purging of evil from Trump’s life. Ouch! But a good Christian, humbly seeking forgiveness, would have hacked off the whole package in one fell swoop. That’s just one of the costs of being a believer.

Take a moment; imagine an emasculated Trump, suddenly facing his own gender ambiguity problem, and secretly asking himself, “Will I use the men’s or women’s restroom?”

So, there he is, missing most of his body parts and petitioning St. Peter, humbly, for entry to heaven. All the boom and bluster is gone, and we see a different kind of man than the one who has terrorized, intimidated and abused virtually everyone he’s ever worked with.

Oops! Wait a moment; the worst is yet to come. Missing hands, arms and eyes is one thing, but there’s one more part that needs to go. Sadly, St. Peter understands that, without an asshole, there’s nothing left of Trump, and he utters a frustrated verdict:

“Sorry, Donald, heaven only accepts the good ones, and there’s nothing left of you to which we could possibly attach a set of wings and a halo.”

Well, we’ve all heard about what Jesus said about being a peacemaker. “Turn the other cheek.” I guess we could mangle that quote just a bit in order to personalize it for Trump: “And Jesus turned to the sinner and said, “Turn the other ear.””

The author is a retired businessman, novelist, columnist and former Vietnam-era Army assistant public information officer. He resides in Riverton with his wife, Carol, and their adorable and ferocious dog “Poppy.”