Trump Tower, New York City

I miss Donald Trump. There, I said it. Mea maxima culpa. Ever since Pope Francis blew into town, nobody seems to care about him.

Yes, he’s still leading in the polls. But somehow, no one seems to care. He’s just kind of sitting there, mired in the low 20s, waiting for someone, anyone, to take his place. Ben Carson made a run at him, but has subsided. Carly Fiorina likewise. Marco Rubio, Ted Cruz the same. The whole damn race seems stuck in neutral.

O Francis, what hast thou wrought?

Apparently a need for some churching up, as Curtis once said to Jake and Elwood. So The Donald summoned a flock of evangelical pastors to his Trump Tower office earlier this week and like moths to a lightbulb, they swooped and fluttered around him for two and a half hours.

Among the heavenly host was Robert Jeffress of First Baptist Dallas, and televangelists Kenneth and Gloria Copeland, and religious broadcaster Jan Crouch, and Paula White of Paula White ministries. And an assortment of African-American pastors.

My own fave was Messianic Rabbi Kirt Schneider. After announcing that the only two nations that have ever had a relationship with God are Israel and the United States, he proceeded to administer the traditional priestly blessing in Jahweh’s name. Who knew messianic Jews give themselves permission to pronounce “יהוה“?

Conspicuous by his absence was the self-designated leader of all Latino evangelicals, Samuel Rodriguez of the National Hispanic Christian Leadership Conference. Last July Rodriguez had the gall to say that Trump’s “comments on immigration do not advance a pro-family, faith and freedom agenda that is so vital to passing comprehensive immigration reform.” No invitation for him.

Maybe this week’s prayers will move the needle on Trump’s numbers, though I’m inclined to think that rounding up the evangelical base will take a lot more work. In the meantime, someone should tell the guy that when a pastor lays on a hand to bless you, you shouldn’t pat it back.