When Donald Trump and his family settled down for a prayer service last week as part of the presidential inaugural events, he very likely didn’t expect a lecture from a wannabe member of “The View.”

But that’s what he got.

Bishop Mariann Budde of the D.C. Episcopal Diocese essentially warned the next chief executive to be nice to immigrants and sexual minorities, using his near-assassination as a point of reference.

Referencing Trump’s comments that God had saved his life to advance a higher purpose, and not appearing too relieved about the miracle, Bishop Budde said this: “In the name of God, I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared, now. There are gay, lesbian and transgender children in Democratic, Republican and Independent families. Some who fear for their lives. They may not be citizens, or have proper documentation but the vast majority of immigrants are not criminals. They pay taxes and are good neighbors. They are faithful members of our churches, mosques and synagogues.”

Budde’s lecture did not go over too well with Trump or Vice President JD Vance. Their faces registered an interested mash up of surprise, disgust and “oh so that’s how it’s going to be?”

Afterwards when asked about his reaction to the speech, the president replied with a pithy “didn’t think it was a good service, no.”

Later, on social media, he told us what he really felt, ending with “She is not very good at her job” and demanded an apology. At least he didn’t say, “You’re fired!”

I completely understand his anger. When you are held hostage to someone making a political point at a uniquely non-political event, you are entitled to be annoyed. When that person essentially turns your own tragedy, your near death experience against you, you are justified in being outraged.

While I didn’t think it was appropriate to seek mercy for sexual minorities and immigrants, singling them out for special graces in the House if God, I understand that progressive prelates and their devoted followers are convinced this is their obligation. They turn biblical phrases into partisan slogans, and the rest of us just roll our eyes.

As a Catholic, I’m used to Pope Francis lecturing U.S. Republicans on everything from climate change to border walls. It’s what he does, and, ahem, who am I to judge?

But it’s one thing to seek compassion for people that you believe to be oppressed, and quite another to use your faith to attack a presumed political opponent in what is essentially a hostage situation.

Trump could not just do what I saw Joan Rivers do in an old YouTube clip of her at a CNN interview: get up and walk away. And he shouldn’t have had to.

I’d have said exactly the same thing if Cardinal Timothy Dolan had lectured then President Joe Biden on his inaugural day for supporting the mortal sin of abortion.

Which brings me to my next point.

I’ve often noticed that many of my bleeding heart — oops, compassionate — fellow Catholics bristle when our priests get up at the pulpit and make the very obvious statement that a Catholic cannot support any candidate who in turn supports abortion rights.

This goes for the Nancy Pelosi “abortion can be a sacrament” radicals as well as the more sober Mario Cuomo “I’m personally pro life but …” squishes. They scream about intimidation and a violation of that infamous wall between church and state.

Of course no priest, rabbi, minister or imam can tell you how to vote. He or she can, however, tell you how far you have strayed from the principles of your faith.

The fact is, you can be a good American, and a good person, but you have failed the test as a Catholic if you define as “pro choice.” And there is nothing wrong with a priest telling you that.

Unfortunately, the people cheering Bishop Budd for her passive-aggressive attacks on Trump and his supporters usually go apoplectic when someone like Bishop Strickland, for example, points out the hypocrisy of pro-choice Catholics.

So can we have some consistency here?

If we are going to channel Jesus Christ and his concern for the wretched of the earth, and if we are going to implore the powerful to protect the weak, let’s start with the weakest of all, the ones whose voices were stripped from them in 1973 and restored a half century later.

If we are going to criticize secular leaders for failing to properly codify in law and policy the expansive embrace of the Most High, perhaps we should reorder our priorities and address the threat to the most vulnerable, the invisible children who I can promise you are as scared as the ones referenced by the bishop.

Until then, maybe the Buddes of the world should leave their pulpits for gigs on failing cable networks.

Copyright 2025 Christine Flowers