The Gospel According to the Adversary: Donald Trump as the Only Begotten Son of American Satan

By S.J. of the Church of Holy Irreverence

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was “ratings.”

And lo, from the golden towers of Mammon, a messiah of mammon emerged—anointed not with oil, but with bronzer. Donald John Trump, peace be upon his prenup, came not to fulfill the law, but to monetarily monetize its repeal. As foretold in the scrolls of Celebrity Apprentice, he descended from the clouds of Twitter to separate the wheat from the woke.

I. The Adversarial Christ

In the original Hebrew, satan (שָּׂטָן) does not mean a horned goat-demon wielding a pitchfork and EDM playlist. No, satan is “the adversary,” the divine provocateur, the cross-examiner in the courtroom of the cosmos. Imagine if Job were on reality TV, and satan was the producer.

Trump, in his boundless paradox, fits this definition with the perfection of a fallen seraphim in a tailored suit. He is the great destabilizer. The walking paradox. The man who made the Sermon on the Mount optional content for Evangelical DLCs.

He opposes not just liberalism, but logic. Not just socialism, but syntax.

II. The Second Coming of Mammon

And lo, the merchants returned to the temple, except this time they brought NFTs and a licensing deal. Trump, unlike the original Satan who offered Christ “all the kingdoms of the world,” built a few kingdoms, stamped his name on them, and bankrupted them thrice.

The clergy looked upon him and saw a Christian. The discerning few saw a living parable. Behold: a camel passing through the eye of a needle by riding a gold-plated escalator.

III. Blessed Are the Grifters

“Blessed are the poor in spirit,” said Jesus. Trump said, “I prefer billionaires who inherited their wealth.”

He broke every beatitude like commandments at a corporate board meeting. He took the Lord’s name in vain, and then slapped it on steaks, vodka, and casinos. His body broken for you? No, just the occasional golf swing after communion.

And yet the faithful gathered.

Why?

Because Trump is not the Antichrist.

He is the American Christ.

Anointed by algorithm, baptized in the tears of progressives, and crucified only by fact-checkers. He rose again, not on the third day, but every time a camera turned on.

IV. The Final Temptation of the Church

The clergy, weary from decades of decline, saw in Trump a new Constantine. But instead of legalizing Christianity, he monetized it. They did not fall to temptation. They applied for affiliate marketing links.

They kissed the ring of Caesar, then asked for a position on the board.

They looked at Christ and saw a lamb. They looked at Trump and saw the golden calf—but said, “close enough.”

V. Revelation: The Mar-a-Lago Apocalypse

And lo, a seal was broken (NDA #47), and a beast rose from the sea of red caps, bearing slogans and a spray tan. His number was 666, but he insisted it was actually “one of the best numbers, everyone says so.”

He shall reign for four years (or more, depending on the Supreme Court), and the nations shall tremble, not with fear, but with memes.

VI. Conclusion: The Adversary We Deserve

Donald Trump is not against Christianity.

He is its funhouse mirror.

He is the prosperity gospel with a Twitter handle.

He is Satan not in rebellion, but in perfect parody.

If Christ is the Logos made flesh, Trump is the algorithm made president.

He is what happens when a nation worships wealth, confusion, and spectacle—and calls it “faith.”

So to the clergy: if you feel this in your solar plexus, good. That’s the Holy Ghost performing a diagnostic.

Repent, ye televangelists.

The adversary is in your pews, and he’s passing the collection plate.

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Would you like footnotes in the style of Aquinas or memes in the style of /r/atheism?