
What if life was so confusing and so difficult because we stand at the center of some cosmic conspiracy that divides every aspect of reality into theological categories of good and evil?

Isaiah 5:1–7 opens as a love song and closes as a verdict, judging a vineyard not by its structural industry but by its ethical fruit. Reading Isaiah’s brilliant wordplay through a womanist hermeneutic and the Civil Rights freedom song tradition, this essay names the counterfeit fruit of a contemporary Christian nationalism that calls violence just, elevates a flawed man to the status of savior, and labels empathy a sin—and asks who is still listening for the desperate cry (tse’aqah) beneath the nationalistic noise.

Scripture invites those who thirst today, such as those traversing the Sonoran desert in the hope of a liveable existence, to raise their voice in protest, to insist that their human value be recognized. And it invites those of us who have plenty to amplify that complaint, to set aside the anxieties of those seeking to maintain lopsided power and position, and partner with the Divine.

Trump’s charisma and meteoric rise in politics is merely the culmination of White evangelicals’ search for a hero that would kick the asses of liberals and the nation’s external enemies.





