the way for the Antichrist.”
Jeffress very much believes that an
Antichrist will rise to power one day—
possibly soon—before Jesus returns to
earth. This isn’t entirely surprising. Af-
ter graduating from Baylor, he attend-
ed Dallas Theological Seminary, a hub
of twentieth-century dispensational
theology, where he was taught, and em-
braced, the idea that God reveals himself
progressively through different dispen-
sations, or ages, and that these would
culminate in an epic showdown be-
tween Christ and a fearsome enemy. Key
events of this apocalypse would occur
in Israel, went the thinking, and it was
common for dispensationalists to pub-
licly identify people they thought might
be the Antichrist. Henry Kissinger
was a popular pick; so was Mikhail Gor-
bachev, whose prominent birthmark
looked suspiciously, to some, like the
mark of the beast. Eventually most re-
ligious figures stopped trying to iden-
tify the Antichrist and the exact date
of Christ’s return, but they didn’t stop
believing that the supernatural con-
frontation was imminent.
At one point, not long after Trump
meets with Kim Jong-un and it feels like
we might be closer to nuclear annihila-
tion than we have been in half a century,
I ask Jeffress, mostly as a joke, whether
evangelicals support this president be-
cause they secretly think he’s hastening
the end times and the return of Jesus.
Jeffress lets out a quick chirp of a
laugh. Actually, he explains, a lot of evan-
gelicals view Trump as a brief reprieve
from a downward moral spiral: every-
thing from the removal of Ten Com-
mandments monuments to restrictions
on prayer in schools to the ways our cul-
ture flaunts sex and corrupts minds.
He’s under no illusion that the Demo-
crats won’t return to power again one
day. Trump, he says, is a way to push in
the other direction, if only temporarily.
He anticipates my follow-up.
“Why would Christians want to put
off the return of Christ?” he asks. “To
give us more time to save people.”
The truth for him personally, though,
is that he also just likes Trump. Jeffress
insists that theirs isn’t just a quid-pro-
quo sort of friendship, a calculated, cyn-
ical partnership. He says he genuinely
enjoys Trump’s company. He’d like to
think they’d be friends regardless of the
presidency.Jeffress says Trump isn’t as impulsive
as he might seem. He says the president
has told him how he workshops insult-
ing nicknames he plans to call oppo-
nents on Twitter. He says he watched
as Trump agonized at the White House
over what to do about DACA recipients.
He’s seen the president demonstrate
diligence and control, unlike the raging
character often depicted in the press.
Several times in our conversation,
Jeffress plays it a little safer and parses
his words, saying that he and the presi-
dent “aren’t bosom buddies.” Is he pro-
tecting himself in case one day his as-
sociation with Trump becomes toxic?
“Not at all,” he says. “I just want to be
as accurate as possible.”
A few months after his inauguration,
Trump boasts about issuing an execu-
tive order instructing the Department
of the Treasury not to pursue religious
organizations when they violate the
Johnson Amendment, which prohib-
its nonprofits from making partisan
political statements, a restriction Jef-
fress has spoken out against for more
than a decade. Then, in May 2018, the
Trump administration does something
even more important for evangelicals:
it officially relocates the American em-
bassy in Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusa-
lem, much of which is regarded under
international law as occupied territory.
Jeffress, the lifelong dispensational-
ist, is invited to give the opening prayer
at the new embassy’s dedication. He’s
there, in Jerusalem, standing at the lec-
tern with his eyes closed. He’s just feet
from Prime Minister Benjamin Net-
anyahu, Ivanka Trump, and Jared Kush-
ner—all Jewish, all going to hell in Jef-
fress’s view, all sitting together in the
front row.
After thanking God for the blessing
and protection of Israel, and for the
work of both Netanyahu and the U.S.
ambassador to Israel, Jeffress thanks
God for the “tremendous leadership”
of Donald Trump. “Without President
Trump’s determination, resolve, and
courage, we would not be here today,”
Jeffress says. “We thank you every day
that you have given us a president who
boldly stands on the right side of histo-
ry but, more importantly, stands on the
right side of you, O God, when it comes
to Israel.”
A few months after that, in August, the
White House hosts an elaborate dinnerfor a hundred or so evangelical leaders
from across the country. Franklin Gra-
ham is there. So are James Dobson and
Paula White, a TV host and pastor of a
Florida megachurch. Jeffress is one of
the preachers Trump thanks by name.
Reading prepared remarks, the pres-
ident lists his evangelical-friendly ac-
complishments: issuing orders limit-
ing government funding for groups that
provide abortions, helping to free an
American pastor being held in Turkey,
moving the embassy to Jerusalem. Of
course, there’s no record of him men-
tioning any of these issues before cam-
paigning for president and meeting peo-
ple like Jeffress.
At the end of his short speech, Trump
thanks the religious leaders. He calls
them “special people.” Then he looks
up from his script.
“The support you’ve given me has
been incredible,” the president says.
“But I really don’t feel guilty, because I
have given you a lot back.”Here’s Robert Jeffress at a Maggia-
no’s in North Dallas, standing in front
of two hundred or so people at an event
called Dinner With the Pastor. Every
few months, prospective church mem-
bers are invited to have a meal and con-
versation in a private room, all on First
Baptist’s tab. The massive serving plates
on each table are full of ravioli slathered
in cream, balsamic-glazed chicken, and
meaty lasagna. There are Frisbee-size
crème brûlées and gallons of iced tea.
The highlight of the evening, though,
is when attendees are invited to ask the
pastor anything they want.
One woman says she campaigned for
Trump and wants to know if Jeffress re-
ally told him he knew he would be presi-
dent. Jeffress recounts the conversation
they had over Wendy’s cheeseburgers.
But he adds that he doesn’t consider
himself a Republican. First Baptist, he
says, has “plenty of people who love
President Trump and people who don’t
love President Trump.”
Someone wants to know when Jef-
fress finds time to read the Bible. Some-
one has a specific question about a verse
in the book of Isaiah. Then a woman
with an Australian accent asks Jeffress
if Trump is saved. The room gets quiet.
Jeffress explains that early on in his
relationship with Trump, he asked, “Mr.
Trump, what do I say when people ask112 TEXAS MONTHLY