In case you are wondering.
Who do people say you are? It’s a similar question Jesus asked the disciples of Himself. Comparisons can throw a few odd things into the mix. What about a present-day comparison of Donald Trump with King Jehu? It’s probably a bit unfair on Jehu and may incur a higher trade tariff on the UK. I can understand the instinct to do so though. The church feels side-lined, the culture hostile, and then along comes a disruptive, bull-in-a-china-shop figure and someone opens 2 Kings and says, there. There you go, that’s your man. Sent by God – God’s wrecking ball.
Trump? Really?
Such comparison demands a response, not because of politics but because of Scripture. And also because the prophetic community I love is doing itself serious damage every time we reach for a biblical typecast without following the whole story to the end.
Let’s start with the obvious.
Jehu’s anointing was genuine. Elisha’s young prophet arrives, clears the room, pours oil on his head and declares the word of the Lord with terrifying clarity: “I anoint you king over Israel… you shall strike down the house of Ahab your master” (2 Kings 9:6–7). Then he runs. Minutes later, after a few blasts of a trumpet, Jehu is king.
That’s how quickly God can turn a life. Commander at breakfast, king by nightfall. Jehu delivered on his commission, fired up his tanks and in the roar of military might, drew his bow, and Joram fell in the field of Naboth, the very place where innocent blood had been shed. The judgment landed exactly where God said it would.
God used Jehu. Completely. That should not be disputed.
But then, disaster. Jehu kept the golden calves at Bethel. That shiny metal…
“Jehu did not turn aside from the sins of Jeroboam… which he made Israel to sin” (2 Kings 10:29). He had zeal for God’s judgment and none for God’s presence, executed a commission without entering communion, functioned as an instrument but never became a friend. Scripture does not soften that, and neither should we.
Friendship with God leaves marks. It marked Abraham, who interceded for cities he could have walked away from. It marked David, who sinned grievously and came back not with spin but with a broken and contrite heart. It marked Moses, who stood in the gap for people ready to stone him. These men were not perfect, but they were pursued. The hunger was visible. The brokenness was real.
No one is asking for perfection, but for fruit. Not platform. Not performance. Not winning. Not a deal, even if it is a very good one – the greatest ever.. Just fruit. The kind that grows in a life that has been undone before God and remade in His presence.
That fruit takes time to recognise. It is a process. But in drawing this comparison, we are not being asked to observe a process. We are being asked to declare an anointing. And that requires evidence that goes beyond shared enemies or political outcomes.
There is also something else going on here, and it needs naming. This is a form of spiritual navel gazing. Not discernment, but projection. We are not letting Scripture speak. We are bending it toward our moment so that it baptises what we already want.
Scripture is clear. Jehu was Jehu. We are not looking for an encore of biblical characters. These lives stand as examples for us, those upon whom the ends of the ages have come. They are patterns and warnings, not roles to be recast in every generation.
Once you see this, the comparison starts to collapse. You can find something of Jehu in decisive leaders, something of Abraham in men of faith, something of Samson in raw strength, something of Obadiah in quiet faithfulness. But that proves the point. These are fragments of fallen humanity and common grace, not titles to be assigned. If everyone can be made to fit, then the pattern is no longer doing any work.
What grieves me most is what this does to the genuine prophetic voice. When we attach divine typology to political allegiance, we do not just risk being wrong. We risk becoming unrecognisable. We become people who cannot be trusted to call things as they are, because it is obvious we are calling things as we want them to be.
God absolutely uses unlikely people. Yourself included. Scripture is clear on that. But an unlikely instrument is not the same thing as a friend of God. Cyrus was an instrument. He did not know the Lord. That did not make the instrument less real. It simply made it less than some claim.
And Scripture does not let us forget how God deals with His people when they harden themselves. He raises nations. He humbles pride. He sends what we would never choose in order to turn our hearts back to Him. Babylon, as usual is never far from the story – not because God delights in judgment, but because He is relentless in mercy. He will never leave His people to their own devices and initiative.
Jehu received four generations on the throne for the obedience he did offer. God is that faithful to partial faithfulness. But Jehu died without knowing God. That is not a legacy to celebrate. That is a category to handle with fear before placing anyone in it.
Donald Trump is not Jehu, but he still has time to repent of his sin, put his faith in Jesus Christ as his Lord and Saviour, and grow in faith and obedience, bearing much fruit not for himself, but for Jesus Christ.