Bishop of Washington, Mariann Edgar Budde, led A Service of Prayer for the Nation on January 21, 2025, at the Washington National Cathedral. President Donald J. Trump and entourage were among the invited guests. Her clear and simple message of unity, her direct call for mercy especially for immigrants and LGBTQIA+ people who are under threat by the new administration, riled the re-elected President. She spoke for millions of people who are heartily sick of the unholy lavabo of religious leaders washing the small hands of politicians who use their power to divide and conquer people who are marginalized and made poor. She gave religion a good name despite declining
When Vice President Kamala Harris skipped the Alfred E. Smith Memorial Foundation Dinner hosted by Timothy Cardinal Dolan on October 17, 2024, some people criticized her decision. Presidential candidates traditionally attend. But she knew that she was not welcome at the “Bro-dance” between Church and State where then former President, now convicted felon, Donald J. Trump received the implicit blessing and anointing of American Catholicism’s most powerful clergy and the support of rich donors of all stripes. Cardinal Dolan was rewarded by giving the opening prayer for Mr. Trump’s second inauguration. But he didn’t have the last liturgical word.
Episcopal Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde graciously stopped the dancing music in her home cathedral. She proved that not all religious leaders are spineless sycophants who will pray earnestly with secular leaders whose deeds, like so many of Trump’s first Executive Orders, compromise the common good. There are limits to what even those most generous of ministers will bless.
The Washington National Cathedral is a beautiful Neo-Gothic-style building with stunning stained glass windows. Mr. Trump appeared to be admiring it when he arrived. The Cathedral has long since outgrown its former nickname “The Republican Party at Prayer.” It describes itself as “A House of Prayer for All People.” Many faiths were represented respectfully in the service that the President thought was so poorly done. Happily, the Cathedral cannot be closed by Executive Order and its leaders are not beholden to the White House. I doubt Mr. Trump will return to the Cathedral any time soon. There is little danger of his funeral being held there—Mar-a-Lago or the Capitol One Arena are more likely venues.
My assessment is that Mr. Trump’s staff failed to brief him thoroughly on what he might expect. So in addition to rejecting the Bishop’s message, he clearly hadn’t been aware it was coming. I’m not criticizing the staff as Mr. Trump is notoriously unable to imbibe more than an index card of information at a time. But if he had bothered to check out The Reverend Mariann Budde, he might have remembered her. She publicly and strongly denounced his performative Bible beating in front of St. John’s Church in Washington, DC, an Episcopal church in her diocese, during the aftermath of the killing of George Floyd in 2020. White Christian nationalism may be Christian but it is certainly not compatible with liberation theologies.
Bishop Budde wrote in a New York Times op-ed at the time, “Yes, I was outraged by President Trump’s use of the Bible and the backdrop of St. John’s Church for his political purposes. I was horrified to learn that while he was threatening to use military force across America, peaceful protesters were being forcibly removed from Lafayette Park so that he might pose before the church for a photograph.” Maybe no one in Trump circles reads the New York Times, but the op-ed can be found on any search engine.
Bishop Budde explained: “Often we prefer to take no side at all, for fear of offending, or stepping out of our lane, or failing to love everyone without distinction. But there are times when taking a side, and a stand, is precisely what’s needed from people of faith. For me, now is such a time. I stand with those engaged in peaceful protest, calling for meaningful change, and especially with young Americans who rightfully wonder if there is hope for their future.” Echoes of her own words surely informed her preparation for the recent prayer service.
Did the Trump crowd imagine that the same pastor would blandly welcome a president who proudly proclaimed anti-immigrant and anti-LGBTQIA+ policies and who rejected Constitutional birthright citizenship, among other early Executive Orders? The Trump team missed the Barque of Peter, and it was a big ship.
In his usual way, Mr. Trump projected his own failings onto others by questioning Mariann Budde’s competence. Asking her to apologize to the nation was the epitome of injured innocence. Marianne Budde apologizing for asking for mercy and unity would be theological malpractice.
I was at the National Cathedral recently for the ordination of six deacons at which Bishop Budde presided. One deacon was Spanish-speaking and the Episcopal Church is serious about inclusion. The whole two-hour service was bilingual with the Bishop moving seamlessly between the two languages in an enviable display of competence. And, just for the record, all six of the ordinands were women. This is notable in a denomination that just celebrated the 50th anniversary of the ordination of women priests after a sustained but successful struggle. The Episcopal Church is a good example of what Catholic Moral Theologian Daniel C. Maguire called “the renewable moral energy of religion.” Bishop Budde’s women priest predecessors seeded the work she continues and will undoubtedly pass on.
Not since Mercy Sister Teresa Kane welcomed Pope John Paul II to the United States on October 7, 1979, by pointing out Roman Catholic women’s desire for ministerial equity (i.e., ordination), has a woman religious leader so forcefully and directly set a global leader straight. Even for those like myself who eschew hierarchy, it’s good to see religious power used responsibly on behalf of those who will never have the ear of the powerful one who needs to hear a word of justice. Bishop Budde made religion look useful again, and she did it with modesty and style.
No wonder the Roman Catholic Church doesn’t want to ordain women.
Feminist work in religion has deep activist roots. Suffrage leader Elizabeth Cady Stanton and the Revising Committee edited The Woman’s Bible in 1895. They elucidated the defining role of religious ideas in the formation of secular societies—in their case, the use of Christian scripture to justify the subordination of women. That work continues today despite persistent backlash, erasure, and objections. Bishop Budde’s “elegant intervention,” as theologian Kevin Gordon would have it, is simply the latest chapter in this transformative work.
Bishop Budde quickly received hostile communication from some who opposed her words and her speaking them to a sitting president. Fortunately, the Episcopal Church has a tradition of vergers, those very dignified and discreet people who lead processions, escort guests, and see to the smooth sailing of liturgies. They carry a ceremonial (often gold) stick, the virge. It was used in former times to beat back any who would impede the procession, and to help keep the bishop and other lea
Vice President Kamala Harris skipped the Alfred E. Smith Memorial Foundation Dinner hosted by Timothy Cardinal Dolan on October 17, 2024, some people criticized her decision. Presidential candidates traditionally attend. But she knew that she was not welcome at the “Bro-dance” between Church and State where then former President, now convicted felon, Donald J. Trump received the implicit blessing and anointing of American Catholicism’s most powerful clergy and the support of rich donors of all stripes. Cardinal Dolan was rewarded by giving the opening prayer for Mr. Trump’s second inauguration. But he didn’t have the last liturgical word.
Episcopal Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde graciously stopped the dancing music in her home cathedral. She proved that not all religious leaders are spineless sycophants who will pray earnestly with secular leaders whose deeds, like so many of Trump’s first Executive Orders, compromise the common good. There are limits to what even those most generous of ministers will bless.
The Washington National Cathedral is a beautiful Neo-Gothic-style building with stunning stained glass windows. Mr. Trump appeared to be admiring it when he arrived. The Cathedral has long since outgrown its former nickname “The Republican Party at Prayer.” It describes itself as “A House of Prayer for All People.” Many faiths were represented respectfully in the service that the President thought was so poorly done. Happily, the Cathedral cannot be closed by Executive Order and its leaders are not beholden to the White House. I doubt Mr. Trump will return to the Cathedral any time soon. There is little danger of his funeral being held there—Mar-a-Lago or the Capitol One Arena are more likely venues.
My assessment is that Mr. Trump’s staff failed to brief him thoroughly on what he might expect. So in addition to rejecting the Bishop’s message, he clearly hadn’t been aware it was coming. I’m not criticizing the staff as Mr. Trump is notoriously unable to imbibe more than an index card of information at a time. But if he had bothered to check out The Reverend Mariann Budde, he might have remembered her. She publicly and strongly denounced his performative Bible beating in front of St. John’s Church in Washington, DC, an Episcopal church in her diocese, during the aftermath of the killing of George Floyd in 2020. White Christian nationalism may be Christian but it is certainly not compatible with liberation theologies.
Bishop Budde wrote in a New York Times op-ed at the time, “Yes, I was outraged by President Trump’s use of the Bible and the backdrop of St. John’s Church for his political purposes. I was horrified to learn that while he was threatening to use military force across America, peaceful protesters were being forcibly removed from Lafayette Park so that he might pose before the church for a photograph.” Maybe no one in Trump circles reads the New York Times, but the op-ed can be found on any search engine.
Bishop Budde explained: “Often we prefer to take no side at all, for fear of offending, or stepping out of our lane, or failing to love everyone without distinction. But there are times when taking a side, and a stand, is precisely what’s needed from people of faith. For me, now is such a time. I stand with those engaged in peaceful protest, calling for meaningful change, and especially with young Americans who rightfully wonder if there is hope for their future.” Echoes of her own words surely informed her preparation for the recent prayer service.
Did the Trump crowd imagine that the same pastor would blandly welcome a president who proudly proclaimed anti-immigrant and anti-LGBTQIA+ policies and who rejected Constitutional birthright citizenship, among other early Executive Orders? The Trump team missed the Barque of Peter, and it was a big ship.
In his usual way, Mr. Trump projected his own failings onto others by questioning Mariann Budde’s competence. Asking her to apologize to the nation was the epitome of injured innocence. Marianne Budde apologizing for asking for mercy and unity would be theological malpractice.
I was at the National Cathedral recently for the ordination of six deacons at which Bishop Budde presided. One deacon was Spanish-speaking and the Episcopal Church is serious about inclusion. The whole two-hour service was bilingual with the Bishop moving seamlessly between the two languages in an enviable display of competence. And, just for the record, all six of the ordinands were women. This is notable in a denomination that just celebrated the 50th anniversary of the ordination of women priests after a sustained but successful struggle. The Episcopal Church is a good example of what Catholic Moral Theologian Daniel C. Maguire called “the renewable moral energy of religion.” Bishop Budde’s women priest predecessors seeded the work she continues and will undoubtedly pass on.
Not since Mercy Sister Teresa Kane welcomed Pope John Paul II to the United States on October 7, 1979, by pointing out Roman Catholic women’s desire for ministerial equity (i.e., ordination), has a woman religious leader so forcefully and directly set a global leader straight. Even for those like myself who eschew hierarchy, it’s good to see religious power used responsibly on behalf of those who will never have the ear of the powerful one who needs to hear a word of justice. Bishop Budde made religion look useful again, and she did it with modesty and style.
No wonder the Roman Catholic Church doesn’t want to ordain women.
Feminist work in religion has deep activist roots. Suffrage leader Elizabeth Cady Stanton and the Revising Committee edited The Woman’s Bible in 1895. They elucidated the defining role of religious ideas in the formation of secular societies—in their case, the use of Christian scripture to justify the subordination of women. That work continues today despite persistent backlash, erasure, and objections. Bishop Budde’s “elegant intervention,” as theologian Kevin Gordon would have it, is simply the latest chapter in this transformative work.
Bishop Budde quickly received hostile communication from some who opposed her words and her speaking them to a sitting president. Fortunately, the Episcopal Church has a tradition of vergers, those very dignified and discreet people who lead processions, escort guests, and see to the smooth sailing of liturgies. They carry a ceremonial (often gold) stick, the virge. It was used in former times to beat back any who would impede the procession, and to help keep the bishop and other leaders safe.
I hope the Episcopal Church has the 21st century equivalent of vergers and virges to protect and promote Bishop Budde’s safety in a time when harm—think January 6th—is permitted, even encouraged, by some government leaders. I can attest that her colleagues in the field of feminist studies in religion, and so many other people seeking justice and fairness, thank her and surround her with good will.
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