President Donald Trump took the stage at the National Prayer Breakfast on Thursday, February 5, 2026, and delivered a speech that cut straight to the heart of his complex relationship with evangelical voters.

Recalling a pointed remark from Pastor Robert Jeffress during the 2016 campaign, Trump revisited a narrative that has long shadowed his public faith—whether he’s as steeped in Scripture as some of his peers. Yet, in Jeffress’s words, it’s not Bible trivia that defines a leader, but the ability to deliver for those who share his values.

This moment wasn’t just nostalgia. It framed a deeper story about what faith means in politics—and why evangelicals have stood by Trump through thick and thin.

The Pastor’s Challenge

During his address, Trump brought up a candid observation from Jeffress in 2016, a longtime MAGA supporter and pastor of First Baptist Dallas megachurch. As reported by People, Jeffress didn’t shy away from questioning Trump’s biblical fluency while still championing his potential.

As Trump recounted, Jeffress had sized up the field of candidates with a sharp eye:

"He said, ‘I know every candidate very well and I know Trump a little bit but he may not be as good with the Bible as some of them. He may not have read the Bible as much as some of them.’ ‘In fact, he may have not ever read the Bible, but he will be a much stronger messenger for us and he will get things done that no other man has the ability to get done.’"

Trump didn’t dodge the jab. Instead, he owned the moment with a wry admission:

"I didn’t want to admit anything."

That restraint speaks volumes. Rather than deflect or overexplain, Trump let the memory stand—a reminder that leadership isn’t about passing a theology exam. It’s about action. And for many evangelicals, Trump’s record on religious liberty, pro-life policies, and judicial appointments has spoken louder than any Scripture quiz.

A Misstep on the Campaign Trail

Trump didn’t shy from revisiting a lighter, yet telling, stumble from his 2016 campaign. Speaking at Liberty University, he famously mispronounced “Second Corinthians” as “Two Corinthians,” a slip that drew chuckles and criticism alike. Reflecting on it during the Prayer Breakfast, he noted the verse in question with a nod to its significance:

"I asked some of the folks, because I hear this is a major theme right here, but two Corinthians. Two Corinthians 3:17, that’s the whole ball game."

The gaffe became a cultural footnote, often wielded by detractors to paint Trump as detached from faith traditions. Yet, for his supporters, it was a human moment—one that didn’t diminish his resolve to protect their values. If anything, it showed a man willing to step into unfamiliar terrain to connect with believers. That grit, not polish, often wins loyalty.

Jeffress on Faith and Politics

Pastor Jeffress, whose support for Trump dates back to the early days of the 2016 race, has consistently framed political allegiance through a pragmatic lens. Speaking to the Dallas Observer in April 2016 and NPR in October of that year, he clarified that faith is just one piece of a larger puzzle for Christian voters.

Jeffress put it plainly in one of those discussions:

"There are a lot of factors that go into the choice of a candidate for a Christian. The Bible does not give a checklist for who to vote for, because when the Bible was written there was no such thing as voting."

He doubled down, emphasizing that personal piety isn’t the sole metric:

"So I think certainly a candidate’s faith is one consideration, but it’s not always the most important consideration."

Jeffress then drew a historical parallel, pointing to evangelical support for Ronald Reagan in 1980—a man whose personal life didn’t align with traditional values, yet whose policies did:

"You know, in 1980, evangelicals overwhelmingly elected a candidate who was a known womanizer when he was in Hollywood. He would be the first divorced president in U.S. history. His name was Ronald Reagan."

He drove the point home with clarity:

"And when evangelicals voted for Reagan, they weren't endorsing womanizing. They weren't endorsing divorce. They were endorsing Reagan's policies."

Turning to Trump, Jeffress applied the same logic:

"And I think that's why Donald Trump continues to enjoy evangelical support. They're not endorsing necessarily his lifestyle."

Here’s the crux: Jeffress articulates a conservative truth often drowned out by moralizing noise. Voters of faith aren’t electing a pastor-in-chief. They’re choosing a fighter for their causes. Trump’s appeal, then, isn’t about personal perfection—it’s about delivering results that align with their deeply held convictions.

The Left’s Blind Spot on Faith

Zoom out, and you’ll see a glaring disconnect in how the left approaches religion in politics. They often demand ideological purity from conservative leaders, mocking any perceived lapse in scriptural knowledge as hypocrisy. Yet, when their own champions falter on matters of personal conduct or policy consistency, the critique softens into “nuance.” It’s a double standard that reeks of opportunism.

Consider this pattern: progressive voices will amplify Trump’s “Two Corinthians” misstep as proof of inauthenticity, while ignoring how their own policies—like expansive abortion access or mandates that infringe on religious freedom—alienate millions of believers. They claim to champion tolerance, yet their rhetoric often drips with disdain for the very faith communities they claim to understand. The contradiction festers, unaddressed.

This isn’t just an inconsistency. It’s a refusal to grapple with why evangelicals rally behind leaders like Trump. They’re not blind to flaws; they’re prioritizing outcomes over optics. The left’s inability to see this isn’t just a political miscalculation—it’s a cultural chasm.

Trump’s Personal Reflection

Amid the anecdotes and defenses, Trump offered a glimpse into his own mindset on faith. He spoke with a raw honesty that doesn’t often make the headlines, revealing a personal guardrail shaped by belief:

"I mean I behave because I’m afraid not to. Because I don’t want to get in trouble."

That’s not the polished confession of a televangelist. It’s the blunt admission of a man wrestling with accountability on his own terms. For a leader often painted as brash or unreflective, it’s a moment of vulnerability that humanizes without pandering. And for many in the room at the National Prayer Breakfast, it likely resonated as genuine.

What This Means Moving Forward

Trump’s speech isn’t just a reflection on the past—it’s a signal of enduring evangelical support as his presidency continues to shape policy. With key issues like religious liberty and judicial nominations still on the table, his administration remains a bulwark for many faith-based voters. The bond forged in 2016, and reinforced through years of action, isn’t easily broken by a mispronounced verse or a pastor’s quip.

Expect this alliance to hold firm, especially as cultural battles intensify. Evangelicals know the stakes—whether it’s protecting their right to worship freely or pushing back against progressive overreach in schools and public life. Trump’s track record gives them confidence, not just in words, but in deeds.

The Human Stakes

At the core of this story isn’t just politics or policy—it’s people. Millions of Americans of faith look to leaders like Trump not for spiritual guidance, but for protection against a culture increasingly hostile to their values. Every misstep mocked, every policy fought, carries a weight felt in homes and congregations across the nation.

The responsibility doesn’t rest solely on Trump. It falls on those who shape the narrative—pundits, activists, and politicians on the left—who too often dismiss these voters as backward or irrelevant. That dismissal isn’t just tone-deaf; it’s a failure to see the human cost of their rhetoric.

Let that sink in. The divide isn’t about a single speech or a single verse. It’s about whether faith still has a seat at the table in America. For evangelicals, Trump remains their strongest voice—and they’re listening.