THE EVANGELICAL GRIFTERS: TRUMP’S HOLY HYPE SQUAD

There’s a special kind of shamelessness required to claim that Donald Trump — a man whose spiritual instincts lean closer to self-worship than scripture — is some kind of modern-day King David. Yet for evangelical figures like Jerry Falwell Jr., Robert Jeffress, and Lance Wallnau, that’s exactly the narrative they’ve sold to justify their unwavering loyalty to Trump.

The so-called “King David defense” hinges on a twisted interpretation of scripture: God used King David — a deeply flawed man — for divine purposes, so why shouldn’t Trump’s sins be overlooked in the name of some higher calling? In theory, it’s a plea for forgiveness and redemption. In reality, it’s a self-serving excuse — and one these men have leaned on to defend Trump’s scandals while distracting from their own.

Because here’s the truth: these self-proclaimed guardians of morality aren’t just excusing corruption — they’re drowning in it themselves. The King David defense isn’t about theology. It’s about self-preservation.

JERRY FALWELL JR.: THE MAN WHO COULDN’T PRACTICE WHAT HE PREACHED

Falwell’s public persona was built on conservative values and moral superiority. But behind the scenes, his personal life and leadership at Liberty University told a different story.

The Pool Boy Scandal: In 2020, it emerged that Falwell and his wife, Becki, had a years-long relationship with a Miami pool boy named Giancarlo Granda. Granda claimed Falwell was aware of the affair and deeply involved in the situation. Falwell denied parts of the allegations but admitted to inappropriate behavior within the family. Regardless of the specifics, the scandal obliterated Falwell’s credibility as a moral authority.

Liberty University Corruption: Under Falwell’s leadership, Liberty University became embroiled in financial controversies. Falwell was accused of prioritizing personal interests over the school’s mission, with questionable financial deals involving friends and family.

Falwell’s “King David defense” was less about spiritual reflection and more about damage control. When Falwell jumped to Trump’s defense, it wasn’t about forgiveness — it was about building a wall of excuses around his own failings.

ROBERT JEFFRESS: THE POLITICAL PASTOR

Jeffress doesn’t just defend Trump — he’s built a platform on turning political loyalty into spiritual doctrine. His brand of Christianity seems to serve one goal: protecting power at all costs.

Jeffress’ defense of Trump hinges on a selective retelling of scripture: that Christians have a “moral obligation” to support Trump because God uses flawed people to fulfill His plans. Yet Jeffress skips a critical detail — David repented. When confronted by the prophet Nathan, David acknowledged his sin and sought forgiveness.

Trump’s approach has been the opposite — publicly dismissing accusations, refusing accountability, and rarely expressing remorse. Yet Jeffress continues to blur the lines between faith and political strategy, promoting the idea that moral failings are irrelevant as long as the end result serves his ideological agenda.

Jeffress’ support for Trump isn’t about redemption — it’s about ensuring the political figures he favors remain in power. His version of faith has become less about spiritual principles and more about partisan loyalty.

LANCE WALLNAU: THE PROPHECY PEDDLER

Wallnau’s defense of Trump goes even further, turning politics into a battleground of spiritual warfare.

Wallnau’s favored analogy isn’t King David — it’s Cyrus the Great, a Persian ruler whom God used to deliver the Jewish people despite not being a believer. In Wallnau’s version, Trump’s scandals aren’t obstacles — they’re evidence that he’s fulfilling a divinely appointed role.

Wallnau has claimed Trump’s presidency was foretold in scripture, that unseen spiritual battles are raging around him, and that dark forces — including media, political opponents, and activists — are working to stop him. His rhetoric weaves religious symbolism with conspiracy theories, encouraging his followers to see politics as a spiritual crusade.

Wallnau isn’t promoting forgiveness — he’s promoting fear. By suggesting Trump’s behavior is part of God’s plan, Wallnau turns politics into a cosmic struggle where morality is secondary to winning.

ZACHARY RADCLIFF: THE LOCAL HYPOCRISY

While Falwell, Jeffress, and Wallnau have used their national platforms to defend Trump, the same brand of selective morality has played out on a smaller scale.

Zachary Radcliff, a Michigan church worship leader and Christian recording artist, was arrested on charges related to child sexual abuse. While Radcliff’s case has no direct connection to Trump, it highlights how religious institutions sometimes foster a culture that shields or excuses unacceptable behavior while loudly condemning groups they view as outsiders.

Radcliff’s arrest stands in stark contrast to the fear-based narratives that figures like Jeffress and Wallnau frequently promote. While they rail against immigrants, LGBTQ+ individuals, or secular influences as threats to moral values, their silence toward misconduct within their own ranks reveals a troubling pattern: moral outrage is selective, wielded more like a political tool than a genuine commitment to justice.

THE COMMON THREAD: HYPOCRISY IN HOLY ROBES

What ties these figures together is their willingness to twist faith into a tool for preserving influence. They aren’t defending Trump because they believe in redemption — they’re defending him because Trump’s power shields their own.

Falwell wasn’t just backing Trump — he was using Trump’s influence to protect himself when his own scandals emerged.

Jeffress wasn’t just excusing Trump’s behavior — he was selling a version of faith that justified corruption in exchange for power.

Wallnau wasn’t just supporting Trump — he was stoking paranoia and exploiting spiritual language to draw people into his orbit.

Radcliff’s arrest exposes how the same culture that defends power at the top enables misconduct at the community level.

The “King David defense” isn’t theology — it’s a smokescreen. It’s a calculated ploy designed to protect those who preach morality in public but fail to uphold it in private.

GRIFT WRAPPED IN A HALO

The evangelical leaders who defend Trump aren’t prophets — they’re powerbrokers masquerading as moral authorities. They aren’t preaching redemption — they’re selling excuses.

By invoking King David, they’ve rewritten scripture to create a blank check for corruption. Their message isn’t one of forgiveness, but of selective accountability — one where powerful men deserve endless grace while their perceived enemies are painted as threats to righteousness.

These men aren’t defending Trump because he’s like King David — they’re defending him because if they ever held him accountable, they’d have to answer for their own failures too.

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