Higher up the grifter’s pyramid to heaven, the same temptation is on offer. Tired of being a bit player at a pro-life non-profit, or a middling political hack? Trump can make you the real deal. Just keep telling yourself, and everyone else, what a warrior he is for the cause—pay no attention to the porn stars, the hush money, or the odd accusation of maybe sexual assault.

Money and influence, power and prestige: all these are yours. All it will cost you is your soul.

This isn’t to say that the conservative Christians singing alleluias to Trump’s name set out to get here. Like most people who fall for a charlatan, they were weak and wounded and desperate when they found him.

Eight years of vindictive attacks under Obama—Who sues nuns to make them pay for abortions? Seriously, who does that?—and the prospect of eight more under Hillary Clinton had a great many people looking for any port in a storm. Trump promised more than a break from all that, he promised to make their enemies cry. And he did. But it’s a direct line from embracing that feeling to cheering a guy who stands up at a prayer breakfast and says, basically, Fuck your enemies.