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In the wake of Kerrville, how so-called Christian Mike Johnson is leading a satanic cycle of suffering

Speaker of the House Mike Johnson after One Big Beautiful Bill Act at US Capitol Washington DC
Kayla Bartkowski/Getty Images

Speaker Mike Johnson and other Republicans

Opinion: With huge cuts to NOAA, climate initiatives, Medicaid, and rural hospitals, those in harm's way of nature’s fury have little hope, writes John Casey.


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I like to try to abide by Pope Francis’s timeless credo “Who am I to judge?” However, in the case of House Speaker Mike Johnson, I make an exception. The self‑professed “Christian” has repeatedly judged me, as a gay man, and my community, so I have no qualms about judging him.

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In case you need to be reminded, LGBTQ+ people have felt the sacrilege of Johnson’s judgment for years. He’s never met me, but he’s made it his life’s mission to legislate against me. He’s called my identity unnatural, accused people like me of corrupting children, and suggested that my love could somehow unravel the moral fabric of the country.

Well, now all gloves are off, because Johnson’s recent behavior shows that he’s the one unraveling the moral fabric of the country.

Over the weekend, I saw a photo that infuriated me. The caption of the image shared across social media was of Johnson amid other middle‑aged white Christian conservatives on the House floor, allegedly praying before taking up Donald Trump’s “big beautiful bill.”

In all my years, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a breathtaking moment of congressional hypocrisy, and I’ve been around for a while. Johnson, and his fellow “Christians” looked like modern-day Pharisees, cloaked in piety while engineering a legislative apocalypse.

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Johnson, and Trump for that matter, might think they’re playing God; however, God truly knows the torrent of suffering they’ve unleashed.

Last week, Johnson presided over passage of this monstrous and anything but beautiful package that combines tax breaks for the wealthy with brutal cuts for the most vulnerable. Touted by Trump as a legacy-defining victory, the bill slices deep into Medicaid, SNAP, climate programs, and disaster readiness infrastructure, among a myriad of other gut-punching cuts.

Under this legislation, Medicaid will be gutted by more than $1 trillion over the next decade, and it will strip health care coverage from millions of Americans. Rural hospitals, already hanging by a thread, will close en masse, particularly in areas where Medicaid expansion was a lifeline. This bill doesn’t just eliminate coverage, it eliminates access to care, to recovery, to survival. In other words, it will eliminate human beings.

And that’s just the beginning.

The "big beautiful bill" also torches President Biden’s signature climate initiatives. Clean energy tax credits from the Inflation Reduction Act, key to accelerating solar, wind, and electric vehicle adoption, are rolled back or repealed. The message is clear, and that is the fossil fuel industry wins, the future loses, and those most vulnerable to the wrath of climate change will suffer even further as more emission get pumped into the Earth’s atmosphere.

Simultaneously, the bill guts funding for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, an agency tasked with preparing Americans for extreme weather and natural disasters. As Trump proudly slashes disaster-response budgets, Speaker Johnson prays for mercy on the floor of the House while doing everything in his power to ensure none will come. No mercy. No funding. No help. No lifeline. Nothing.

As a side note, Johnson is also silent when it comes to the Trump administration’s assault on and cruelty toward migrants and immigrants. ICE is rounding up migrants and immigrants who’ve committed no crimes, detaining them indefinitely, and shipping them off to bleak holding centers, including the horrific “Alligator Alcatraz” in Florida and even offshoring to Sudan, thanks to the Supreme Court.

As a moralizing “Christian,” the speaker says nothing. He might save a baby, but he has no qualms about dumping innocent humans in the Everglades so that the alligators can feast on their dead bodies.

Ironically and tragically, we are now seeing the real-life consequences of this legislative nightmare unfolding in Kerrville, Texas, where over 100 people have been killed because of biblical and epic flooding.

When asked on Fox News Sunday if there was anything more that could be done, Johnson had the gall to say, “In a moment like this, we feel just as helpless as everyone else does.”

Really, Mike? Helpless? You’re the speaker of the House, and you’re helpless. Well, that sounds about right, because instead of trying to help fix the problem, he opts to compound it, as things will only get worse.

These floods are no longer rare. They are becoming the norm, alongside EF4 tornadoes and increasingly violent thunderstorms that batter rural communities because of climate change. Monikers like “once in a lifetime” are now changing to “once a month.”

I remember sitting with scientists with the United Nations' Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change a decade ago. They warned that if we didn’t act, rural America would become a climate disaster zone, unprepared and unprotected. Their prediction wasn’t just accurate. It was prophetic. And it’s coming true before our very eyes. And people are suffering.

And what does Johnson do for these people? He slashed the very climate funding that could’ve helped slow this catastrophe. Instead of addressing the root causes of climate change, he supports Trump removing the U.S. from the Paris climate agreement — again — and helped pass legislation that killed climate resilience programs outright.

Figure this riddle out. Johnson is a climate science denier, part of a dwindling crowd. God’s Earth is being destroyed by climate change. God isn’t happy. Johnson believes in God. Can you make sense of that?

These climate-affected communities are now on the front lines of climate collapse, with cuts to early warning systems and federal support, and now, thanks to the “big beautiful bill,” they'll have no hospitals to care for the injured and no Medicaid to help them pay for treatment.

It’s a death trap for rural inhabitants. There will be less manpower and funding behind early warning systems because of huge cuts to NOAA, and little in the way of blunting the storms because climate efforts are being dismantled.

Johnson and his ilk have thus created the perfect storm, literally and figuratively, for death and destruction.

So what are people in rural America supposed to do now? When their homes are under water, when their crops are gone, when their livelihoods are wiped out, when their loved ones are injured and there’s no hospital for 100 miles. What are they supposed to do?

Predictably, U.S. Sen. Ted Cruz of Texas stepped in with his predictable and compassionless “thoughts and prayers” for the people of Central Texas. It’s the same hollow piety he offers after every tragedy. Same with Johnson and his wimpy and phony “prayers” offering. But are these the men rural Americans should turn to for comfort? Are these the prayers that will bring back loved ones or rebuild homes?

I completely understand the people in places like Kerrville and across rural America who are thanking God for surviving Mother Nature’s wrath. In moments of terror and grief, prayer is a human instinct. Reaching for God is a sacred response.

But the truth is when the people who helped cause your suffering offer prayers, those aren’t blessings. They’re a slap in the face.

Mike Johnson and Ted Cruz kneel not to grieve but to absolve themselves. Their prayers are not about healing. Not. At. All. They’re about hiding from responsibility, from accountability, from the devastation they helped bring.

And it’s only going to get worse.

This isn’t just a crisis. It’s a cycle of death that Johnson has set into motion. No climate protections, so the storms get worse. No NOAA alerts, so there’s no warning. No hospitals, so there’s no help. No Medicaid, so there’s no healing. No SNAP, so there’s no food. And repeat the cycle in another part of places like tornado alley.

Johnson may kneel on the House floor and whisper prayers, but he is the architect of this disaster. And when the floodwaters rise, the crops burn or are blown away, and the hospitals close for good, the prayers from Johnson won’t save anyone.

Because the God I believe in doesn’t reward the bringers of suffering like Johnson. And the God I know is the final judge, determining who goes to heaven and who belongs in hell. With Johnson, God has an easy answer.

Voices is dedicated to featuring a wide range of inspiring personal stories and impactful opinions from the LGBTQ+ community and its allies. Visit Advocate.com/submit to learn more about submission guidelines. Views expressed in Voices stories are those of the guest writers, columnists, and editors, and do not directly represent the views of The Advocate or our parent company, equalpride.

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