Is Trump Going To Heaven?

By Mary Klumpenhouwer

President Trump said he wants to go to heaven. Trump cited his supernatural desire as his motivation for attempting to broker peace between Russia and Ukraine, “I wanna end it . . . I wanna 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.”

His comment garnered the mockery of Shawn McCreesh at the New York Times: “Holy mother of God! What a thing to say at 8 o’clock in the morning.” Father James Martin, SJ, editor of America Magazine, praised Trump for his laudable sentiment and gently guided him toward service of the poor. He even sympathized with him, “I’m trying to do the same thing, imperfectly.” Russell Moore, editor in chief of Christianity Today, also wrote an open letter to the president in which he admitted, “I would kind of grumble if I saw you next to me in worship in glory,” although he also added, “That part of me is of the Devil.” At Crisis Magazine, Mark Haas lectured Trump on soteriology and the finer points of the faith-works debate.

Of all these approaches, the liberal Jesuit took the best tack. Instead of throwing Pauline epistles at the President, he considered the tone of the President’s rhetoric: honest, humble, hopeful. The idea of doing good works to get to heaven is very offensive to modern Christians despite Jesus’ explicit injunction to “store up for yourselves treasure in heaven” (Matthew 6:20). In attempting to do the right thing for the right reason (rare among politicians), the president is to be commended and encouraged.

Perhaps Trump envisions himself at the pearly gates guarded by Saint Peter asking why he should let him in. Trump’s approach reminds me of Abraham’s bargain with God in Genesis 18. God wants to destroy the city of Sodom, and Abraham is haggling Him down. After starting with “Wilt thou spare the city for fifty righteous men?”, Abraham finally gets God to consent to spare the city for the sake of ten righteous people. This is the mercy of God: He will spare an entire city of Sodomites for 10 godly people living among them. Donald Trump, like Abraham, is trying to avenge God’s wrath with ten good deeds.

Or consider the questionable people Dante includes in his Paradiso: the Roman Emperor Trajan, who was supposedly resurrected long enough to be baptized by Pope Gregory the Great (Canto XX); Ripheus, a soldier from Virgil’s Aeneid who died defending his city (also Canto XX); and Siger of Brabant, who was tried for heresy (Canto X). I would wager that Dante would be equally surprised to find a billionaire playboy turned peacemaking politician in heaven. But as with the conversion of Saint Paul, stranger things have happened. Pelagianism is a heresy, but most accusations of works-righteousness today are pretty needless. Instead we should meditate on the harrowing words of Saint James: “What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say he have faith, and have not works? Can faith save him?” (James 2:14).

Trump’s remark reminds me of the Catholic mother who asks her children, “What can we do for Mama Mary today?” or the Protestant who asks, “What would Jesus do?” Trump is asking the valuable question: How can I, in my state in life, please my Creator? God only knows whether Donald Trump is saved. But if more world leaders cared about getting to heaven through brokering peace deals, it would please our Lord who said, “If you love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15). We should all be trying to get to heaven.

A corollary of the Peter-at-the-pearly-gates scenario is the demons-and-angels-fighting-over-a-
soul-at-the-moment-of-death drama, depicted in the onion story from The Brother Karamazov:

Once upon a time there was a peasant woman and a very wicked woman she was. And she died and did not leave a single good deed behind. The devils caught her and plunged her into the lake of fire. So her guardian angel stood and wondered what good deed of hers he could remember to tell to God; “She once pulled up an onion in her garden,” said he, “and gave it to a beggar woman.” And God answered: “You take that onion then, hold it out to her in the lake, and let her take hold and be pulled out. And if you can pull her out of the lake, let her come to Paradise (Book VII, Chapter 3).

Dostoevsky’s story illustrates the boundless goodness of God, who would allow a sinner into heaven for one good deed. The trope of “saved by one good deed” hearkens back to the thief on the cross in Luke 23. A wicked life wiped out by one act of faith. Would that Jesus would say to us all, “Today you will be with me in paradise.”

Mary Proffit (Kimmel) Klumpenhouwer is a graduate of Hillsdale College and the University of
Dallas. She also writes for The American Spectator, The Hillsdale Collegian, The American
Catholic, Ignitum Today, The Classical Teaching Institute, Film Fisher, The Circe
Institute, and Crisis Magazine. She is a wife and mother in Fort Scott, Kansas.