Rooting for President Trump...

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Dad was from New York City. Until his sister came to live and die with us in 2001, her abode was the same Flushing apartment Dad found and moved his parents and sister into back in 1940 while he was a student at Wheaton College. Hear tell the building's owners had a blowout party to celebrate Aunt Elaine's departure after sixty years of rent control on her corner apartment.

So I've always known and kept track of The Donald, and for decades the souls I serve as pastor have observed my—shall I say it publicly?—loathing for him. My disgust with the man long predates his entry into politics. But if anything, The Donald's election as president has modulated my loathing. Yes, it continues; but now it's mixed with a certain grudging appreciation (as well as respect for the office of President)...

Take the current spat with the talking heads of CNN's Morning Joe. Yesterday, Mary Lee and I were talking and agreed that the lowest point of President Trump's bombast is when he speaks of women's blood. It's utterly repulsive, although I doubt I could explain this to the President, New York street fighter that he is. If the President granted me one wish, it wouldn't be that he finally prosecutes Bill's wife, but that he never speak of any woman's blood again. Seriously.

On the other hand, I find President Trump the perfect antidote to the media's conniving liars who, with the greatest sanctimony, call themselves the Fourth Estate and assure their inferiors who are merely citizens that their work writing hypocritical lies is the final and only hope for democracy's survival.

No, I am not at ALL chagrined at President Trump's scornful mockery of them, superimposing CNN on the head of a professional wrestler he is jumping up and down on, and whupping.

Pitch-perfect. Keep it up, President Trump—keep it up!

Maybe finally the plain vanilla and risk-averse midwesterners who have mounted the richest pulpits in Manhattan, Atlanta, Nashville, and St. Louis will recognize there is something even more important than space at the top of the Gray Lady's bestseller list.

Wouldn't that be something—if the PCA finally replaced it's effeminate preachers with real men who know that when the French say there are three sexes—men and women and clergymen—clergymen are not being complimented?

Mr. President, if you promise never to mention blood again, you have my full support for mocking and ripping the media to shreds. They are nothing but wicked liars—every last one of them—and since PCA pastors in New York City can't find it within themselves to oppose them, I'm giggling with excitement watching you do what they ought to have done long ago.

Doing what the Apostle Paul and John Calvin and John Knox and Martin Luther would have done with both hands tied behind their backs and their eyes closed.

Woe to those who call evil good, and good evil; Who substitute darkness for light and light for darkness; Who substitute bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter! (Isaiah 5:20)

Tim Bayly

Tim serves Clearnote Church, Bloomington, Indiana. He and Mary Lee have five children and big lots of grandchildren.

Want to get in touch? Send Tim an email!