Donald Trump and maga Republicans must show compassion for those who are deliberately being victimized without cause

I agree with much in Colin Pascal’s Dec. 22, 2025, commentary, “Why the White House Faith Office is failing.*” (See the essay below this opinion letter.)

However, what is really needed is the “White House Compassion Office.”

Religious faith, as Mr. Pascal points out, does not guarantee adherence to a moral life or prevent shameful behavior. 

"'Do Unto Others', officially titled The Golden Rule, is a famous 1961, painting for The Saturday Evening Post showing diverse people of different races, religions and cultures united by the principle of treating others as you wish to be treated. The painting reflects Rockwell's desire for world unity."

Many people who practice non-Christian religions, or who profess no religious affiliation or no belief in a divinity, practice moral lives because of a belief not in an afterlife, but in the Golden Rule and a conviction that what we do to lift up one of us lifts up all of us. I do not want to live in a “Christian” nation, but rather in a tolerant, compassionate nation that recognizes that all who choose to live here possess inalienable rights that need to be respected and protected.

From Anne O’Hare, in Baltimore, Maryland

*Donald Trump’s White House Faith Office was established earlier this year (2025) and is a welcome addition to a Washington bureaucracy that sometimes seems hostile to religion.

Actually, the office seeks to ensure that faith leaders have a voice in policy and that religious organizations are treated fairly by the government. Despite its establishment, the office is failing to halt the widespread decline of religious faith in America. A Gallup poll recently found that less than half of Americans now identify as religious. The administration’s own behavior is partly to blame.

The history of religion in political life is complicated, and faith in America hasn’t always been a pure force for good. At St. Anne’s Episcopal Church in Annapolis, where I worship on Sundays and serve on the vestry, we take pride in the work of

William Wilberforce (b.1759-d.1883), a 19th-century English parliamentarian who shared our Anglican tradition.

Wilberforce was largely responsible for ending the trans-Atlantic slave trade, an immense service to humanity that was inspired by his Christian faith. His work is part of our church’s proud legacy of service, but there are shameful parts of our history as well. Two plaques, one on the interior and one on the exterior of our church, commemorate the African-American slaves who played a part in constructing the building in which we worship. The plaques also acknowledge that two Episcopal churches founded in Annapolis by St. Anne’s, St. Luke’s and St. Philips, only exist because an earlier generation of St. Anne’s parishioners wouldn’t share their sanctuary with African Americans. Given this history, it’s clear that the American church too often condoned the immoral. For all its modern and historical failures, however, religion remains a force for good.

Faith holds at bay the arrogance and self-importance that now define our cultural and political life. It reminds us that regardless of our position or title, we remain nothing more than a small part of God’s immense creation. By showing us our proper place in the world, faith, when well-practiced, encourages humility and dampens our judgment since each of us is flawed when compared to God’s perfection. Like everything good in the world, faith can be co-opted and has a downside, at times creating its own type of arrogance and exclusion. Acknowledging this isn’t a reason to push faith out of public life, and in general, faith does more than anything to keep us grounded.

If faith at its best encourages introspection, humility and compassion, then the White House Faith Office is failing. Too many of our leaders don’t seem to recognize that being seen as tough doesn’t mean dehumanizing people or being cruel. Attacking boats suspected of smuggling drugs may be justified to protect the lives of Americans, but there’s no way to justify making light of the associated killing. America used to honor the image of the reluctant warrior, seeing in the depiction of a fighter who wishes fighting wasn’t necessary something good in our national character. The (evil) playful way the administration appproaches these boat strikes feels distant from that older ideal.

Americans have always been ready to do hard and unpleasant things, but the willingness to do what’s necessary is a far cry from celebrating violence. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth strayed from the image of the reluctant warrior when he co-opted an ugly children’s book about Franklin the Turtle and posted an image of the main character shooting boats and smiling as they burned. If it were operating effectively the White House Faith Office would help the secretary understand that the people on these boats were made in God’s image and have a soul. Their bad decisions, perhaps informed by desperation, might make them legitimate targets, but taking their lives should always be a somber affair.

Secretary Hegseth isn’t the only figure in the administration whose behavior is difficult to square with traditional ideas of faith. President Donald Trump’s reaction to the murder of Rob and Michele Reiner, denigrating their memory and critiquing their politics, is a far cry from loving his enemies and reflecting God’s grace. The president’s embrace of concepts that don’t sit well with faith, promising his supporters that he would be their retribution and saying at Charlie Kirk’s funeral that he hates his opponents, is far removed from the lessons that many Americans learned in Sunday school. 

Although Donald Trump attempted to do something good when he established the White House Faith Office, his actions since he created it undermines its purpose. Moreover, hypocritically, Trump makes its existence mostly meaningless.

Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem’s decision in March to post a video of herself in front of half-naked men in an overcrowded prison was a sad example of using people as props. Many of the prisoners in El Salvador’s Terrorist Confinement Center are criminals who terrorized their neighbors and don’t deserve to be free. Their crimes, however, don’t lessen the tragedy of their situation, or the heartbreaking reality that these people, gifted by God with a soul, fell so far and did so much harm that they need to be incarcerated.

When leaders who claim to want a bigger role for religion in public life speak comfortably about retribution and hate, when they use a children’s cartoon character to make light of killing, and when they use prisoners as the backdrop for social media, something seems off in their understanding of faith. Keeping Americans safe may sometimes require the measured use of violence, and holding people in prison is a sad but necessary manifestation of the human condition. From immigration enforcement to counterdrug operations, key members of the administration seem to be enjoying themselves. Given the gravity of the topics and the effect of their actions on human lives, that reaction feels wrong.


The White House Faith Office exists in part to increase the role of religion in American life. That’s a controversial objective that might find more support if Americans could see the positive impact that faith can have on our public life. Until the Faith Office generates the influence and the will to change the administration’s rhetoric and aspects of its behavior, it won’t be taken seriously by an increasingly secular public that’s already skeptical of religion. Contrary to the views expressed by members of the current administration, many people of faith don’t believe that God blessed our nation only to see it turn its back on the world and deny the humanity that exists in everyone, humanity put there by God’s design.

Colin Pascal (colinjpascal@outlook.com) is a retired Army lieutenant colonel and a graduate student in the School of Public Affairs at American University. He lives in Annapolis.