He presents as the paragon of invulnerability. He claims to be right about everything, and is often seen wearing a hat that states it. Because of his ego driven need for domination, coupled with a stream of statements and appearances that are designed to convey an impregnable psyche, Donald Trump consistently – and shamelessly – twists the truth, fabricates data, invents support for himself and his ideas in monomaniacal ways, all the while demeaning, dismissing, and when possible, destroying the reputations if not the lives of anyone who stands in his way.
If we were able to stand at some distance from this ongoing assault on morality, dignity, civility, and democracy, we would perhaps find some comedy in Trump’s exceedingly vain and grossly incompetent attempts to put his name, his footprint, and his solipsistic imprint on the world. They are bizarre; they make no sense. His words and actions are crazy.
But we can’t stand at some distance from the machinations of the President. We are embroiled in it. His actions and statements drive so many of us crazy, which of course is his intent. While so many of us can plainly see Trump’s physical, mental and moral decline, he has sealed himself off from critique, and has created a silo – a bulwark — of supporters and sycophants who prop him up because he serves their need to promote an agenda which is largely driven by the animosity, if not the hatred, of the other side.
We get daily updates of Trump’s failings and his fragility. And still the invulnerability train rumbles on. His support seems to be waning. It is often said that if his approval rating dips below thirty percent, his supporters will disappear. I don’t think that will happen. Instead, I suspect that Trump will double down by presenting himself as even more invincible, and his MAGA followers will dig in with even greater tenacity – because of a common desire to be invulnerable. If Trump can demonstrate his impregnability, it follows that his followers will be protected and emboldened by it. And will zealously, if not blindly, defend him.
The illusion of invulnerability is a cloak that so many of us wear. Or wish that we could put on. Invulnerability can spare us from anxiety and ambiguity. Invulnerability confers a layer of protection, if not a feeling of power. Invulnerability connects us directly with its cousin: certainty.
A spiritual sage once said to me that the opposite of faith is not doubt. The opposite of faith is certainty. As a person of faith, what is particularly disturbing to me is that virtually every faith tradition on the planet has a cohort within that tradition which traffics in certainty. For Muslim extremists, it is a misinformed notion of jihad which fuels a need to bring people to theological heel. For some right-wing Israelis, the certainty of the Jewish faith gives permission to destroy all signs of life in Gaza and violently invade Palestinian communities in the West Bank. For some Hindus in India, the notion of sraddha, or certainty, justifies the oppression of Muslims. And in this country, Christian nationalism – which swims symbiotically with the posturing and positioning of Donald Trump — claims a certainty which can demonize anyone who does not subscribe to their exclusive interpretation of scripture.
I lament these religious realities. Quite frankly, they scare me. But I also need to recognize that I have often fallen under the spell of certainty and the desire for invulnerability, but in much more subtle ways. Several decades ago the writer Parker Palmer introduced a small group of us to the concept of functional atheism, For Palmer, a functional atheist is someone who says they believe in God but live as though God doesn’t exist. I have found myself in the rabbit hole of functional atheism more times than I can count. At various times I have tried to convince myself and others that I have enough intelligence, strength, relationships, privilege, and electronic devices, that I can get by on my own. That I have cloaked myself, maybe not with invulnerability, but with enough security that I don’t need help. That if a fissure opens up in my carapace of protection, I can easily seal it up with all the resources I have at my disposal.
That may work – for awhile. But ultimately – and inevitably, my vulnerability gets exposed. And humility then shows up and becomes an important guide. And I can then reach out – and am grateful – for help. Help from a divine presence, or from the many people who want to help me. Usually both.
Vulnerability is doorway to healing and hope. We need to continue to expose Donald Trump’s vulnerability, precisely because he refuses to acknowledge it. At the same time, we need to recognize our own intrinsic desire for invulnerability. We do that by honoring our own vulnerability, claiming our own humility, and trust that through the doorway of vulnerability support and grace will be offered. And our vulnerability will be a power that can help heal – not just ourselves, but our country as well.
