Swearengin is an author, emotional & spiritual well-being coach, podcaster and content creator through his social media presence as Unconventional Pastor Paul. He talks religion and politics at times joined by his wife Ashley, a former elected official and community leader. Find him at Pastor-Paul.com.
We've recently marked the 22nd anniversary of 9/11. As we remember our collective pain and the lives lost, can we also take a moment to remember that the Jesus of the Christian Bible was a decided proponent of non-violence even while displaying occasional nuance on the subject.
As we keep in mind that Jesus taught his followers to “turn the other cheek” when struck, can we also be cognizant that he flipped a table and grabbed a whip when he saw those with power using it to oppress those less powerful. When we, as a nation, hold the power to choose to oppress or to bring a powerful spirit of peace, can we critique ourselves in a dispassionate manner? A famous quote states that war is about “killing people and breaking things,” therefore, wouldn’t it be valuable to soberly, and with stark honesty, consider the times our killing and breaking was a righteous battle, and the times it might have felt rewarding in the moment but only created a spirit and cycle of retaliation?
I once heard an American operative who spent many years active in the Middle East say, "America will not be able to solve its problems in the Middle East until we stop blowing things up in the Middle East." He emphasized that as Americans, each time we visit violence upon a predominantly Muslim nation in that area, we prove to the average people there that we are what the extremists say we are and "another hundred families give their children to Al Queda."
That comment pushes back mightily on the narrative we heard after 9/11 that this act of terror was due to hatred against us simply because we're Christian and good.
In no way am I endorsing the actions of the terrorists who committed these acts, nor do I say that victims of that act were deserving of their fate. I'm simply asking us to have an honest assessment of what could possibly have facilitated such an act, and to wrestle with our response as a people, so that we can better evaluate how we should react when scary things happen to us in the future.
The gospel teachings of Jesus were that people who "live by the sword, die by the same." Thus, a follower of the Christian religion or even of sound wisdom might consider if any violent acts we have suffered might be an “eye for an eye” response to violence we have inflicted on citizens of other nations as opposed to times in our history, like the Pearl Harbor attack, that was an act of aggression against us that required a World War II level of righteous response.
Jesus radically taught that someone suited for their cloak should also give their tunic. In first century Palestine, it was illegal to take a person’s inner garment as the lack of warmth provided by the tunic was considered a death sentence. Jesus never taught, “get really good at killing and breaking things in order to save your tunic."
Now this was not a call from Jesus to let oneself be abused; that's never OK. But when biblical wisdom says that simply loving those close in is no big deal, we might want to learn that the mark of someone who's connected to divine goodness is one who can love those they consider enemies of their religious, racial, or nationalistic beliefs. As we see the devastation of wars that were created from our desire to get retribution for 9/11, let us challenge ourselves to consider better ways to reach for peace than being the best "killer and breaker" on earth.
I certainly understand this is a nuanced discussion that we as a nation rarely have. I fear we rarely think about the possibility of our culpability when violence visits within our national boundaries. These are difficult questions indeed as we remember the horror of having our fellow citizens killed; but certainly questions worth considering.




















A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.