crat, a born-again Christian from Geor-
gia named Jimmy Carter.
Although Jeffress is just a boy, people
around him are already taking notice of
his power to influence others. His ninth
grade speech teacher tells him, “Jeffress,
you’re going to be a preacher one day, and
it scares the bejeebers out of me because
you can sell anybody anything!” Criswell
becomes his mentor, and in fact, when
he’s a freshman in high school, Jeffress
hears God tell him to abandon his exec-
utive producer dreams.
For the first fifteen years of his career
as a pastor, at a small church in Eastland
and then a larger First Baptist in Wichi-
ta Falls, Jeffress doesn’t get political. He
rarely mentions abortion or homosex-
uality. But he learns the power of con-
troversy in 1998, when a member of his
church shows him two children’s books
from the local library: Heather Has Two
Mommies and Daddy’s Roommate. Jef-
fress announces that he will not allow
the books to be returned. The city coun-
cil takes his side, the American Civil Lib-
erties Union sues the city, and the story
makes national headlines. Eventually a
court decides the library can keep the ti-
tles in the children’s section, but by then
Jeffress has received letters and dona-
tions from all over the country. Church
attendance goes up, and soon comes an
expensive new sanctuary.
Jeffress will remember these lessons
when he is invited, in 2007, to return
to First Baptist Dallas as senior pastor.
In his first few years back, he gives ser-
mons with attention-grabbing titles on
the marquee and makes controversial
statements about, in no particular or-
der, Mormons, Muslims, Jews, Catho-
lics, gays, lesbians, and Oprah Winfrey.
Almost a decade later, he embraces one
of the most controversial presidential
candidates of all time, and in 2018 the
church reports the highest giving levels
in its 150-year history. Now, like Criswell
and Billy Graham, who was himself a
longtime member of First Baptist Dal-
las, Jeffress has the ear of the president.
Through all this, he retains his affinity
for television. In 2018 his entire family is
featured on a TLC reality show centered
on his oldest daughter’s newborn trip-
lets. At First Baptist, the main sanctuary
gets outfitted with six or seven high-defi-
nition screens that can be made into a
long LED scroll that ribbons across the
back of the proscenium. Sunday services
are broadcast live on the church website,
an operation that includes seven cam-
eras, a team of grips and technicians,
and a control room that rivals studios
at CNN and Fox. The church posts his
cable news clips on YouTube. Jeffress
says TV accounts for a small percentage
of his work but that Fox News—where
he becomes a paid contributor under
contract—is a “gateway to bring people
into our ministry.”
And television, it turns out, is how he
connects to the president, a man with his
own affinity for reality shows. In mid-
2015, after seeing Jeffress compliment
him on Fox News, Trump tweets out the
clip and has someone from his office—
Jeffress doesn’t remember who—reach
out so he can thank the pastor for the
kind words.
When Jeffress recounts the story, he
lowers his voice an octave to repeat the
way he’s heard Trump describe it: “‘You
know, I was watching TV one night, and
I’ll never forget, I saw Pastor Jeffress
saying, “Trump’s a lousy Christian, but
he’s a good leader.”’”
The pastor interrupts himself to clar-
ify. “Of course, I didn’t quite say it that
way,” he explains, lest anyone think he
called the president lousy. “I said, ‘He’s
not a perfect person, but he’s a tremen-
dous leader.’”
Jeffress has also heard Trump tell it
this way: “I was watching television with
Melania, and I saw Pastor Jeffress, and
I said, ‘Look at his mouth move! Look
at how quickly that mouth moves. It’s
like a machine gun! I would never want
to see that used against me someday!’”
Trump’s campaign asks Jeffress to
pray at a rally in Dallas that fall, and soon
the two forge what they describe as a
friendship. The candidate sends nice
notes or has his assistant email, and
in early 2016, Trump invites Jeffress
to join him on the campaign trail. The
pastor spends a weekend with Trump
in Iowa, where, both men understand,
evangelical support can make or break
a Republican presidential run. Jeffress
says things like “I don’t want some meek
and mild leader or somebody who’s go-
ing to turn the other cheek. I’ve said I
want the meanest, toughest SOB I can
find to protect this nation.”
Then Jeffress is at Trump Tower on
the day of the election. The mood is
not optimistic. Jeffress tells Trump he
hopes they’ll stay friends, no matter the