Well, folks, the smoke hasn’t yet cleared from the Sistine Chapel, but someone must have forgotten to tell Donald J. Trump about it.
Just days after attending the funeral of Pope Francis, Trump posted an AI-generated image of himself dressed as the Pope in full papal regalia — golden mitre, jewel-encrusted staff, and smug expression so typical of the man whom you’d love to hate. The caption may as well have read: Habemus Trump.
Now, in a normal, sane, moderately caffeinated world, this would be a joke. But no. Trump dropped the image with the solemnity of one announcing a new steak line. No clarifications, no winks. Just His Holiness, Pope Donald I, Supreme Pontiff.
Of course, this happens just as 133 cardinals gather for the most sacred of Catholic rituals: the conclave to elect the next Pope. A holy moment steeped in prayer, discernment, and — thanks to Trump — now mild indigestion. Because there’s nothing like a billionaire cosplay pope crashing your spiritual retreat.
One cardinal, speaking anonymously (and possibly through a facepalm), said, “We asked the Holy Spirit for guidance, not WiFi-generated cosplay.” Meanwhile, the Swiss Guard is reportedly on high alert for any suspicious-looking intern bearing gold-plated chalices or rosaries.
Let’s remember, Trump isn’t Catholic. His actual spiritual guide is probably a mirror. But that hasn’t stopped him before. He once held a Bible upside down like it was a steak menu. He’s quoted “Two Corinthians” like he was ordering a drink. He once famously called Filipinos “Philippians.”
And now, just when the Catholic Church is grieving a beloved pope and preparing for a new one, here he comes smirking in white robes and likely wondering if he can build a golf course inside the Vatican.
Many Catholics were not amused. The Vatican declined to comment, though one insider reportedly muttered, “This is why we stopped doing indulgences.” American evangelicals, on the other hand, are probably already drafting a Book of Trump to slide into the New Testament.
But the image did raise valid theological questions. Will confession be replaced with nondisclosure agreements? Will communion now include ketchup packets?
Of course, Trump defenders argue it’s all harmless fun. A “tribute,” they say. Yes, like how Godzilla “pays tribute” to Tokyo. The rest of us see it for what it is: an attention-grabbing stunt that disrespects a solemn tradition for a few likes and some laughs.
While we appreciate Mr. Trump’s interest in the Vatican, we remind all parties that the road to sainthood is long, the process rigorous, and the dress code non-negotiable.
But who knows? Maybe a Pope Donald isn’t far-fetched. In a world where satire dies daily from exhaustion, why not a Pontiff-in-Chief who pardons sins the way he pardoned Steve Bannon? Why not a Pope who replaces incense with the smell of self-tanner?
One thing’s certain: If the white smoke rising from the chimney smells faintly of hairspray and steak, we’ll know the conclave has gone off the rails.
God help us, and pass the rosaries, please.
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