President Donald Trump has once again captured the nation’s attention—this time, not with a policy announcement or a campaign rally, but with a fundraising email that left even seasoned political observers scratching their heads. On September 4, 2025, Trump launched a 24-hour fundraising blitz under the banner of 'Never Surrender, Inc.,' calling on supporters to donate $15 each. The stated reason? To help him 'get to heaven.'
According to The Economic Times and Metro, the fundraising push was accompanied by a message that blended Trump’s trademark bravado with an unusually personal tone. In the email, Trump wrote, 'I want to try and get to Heaven. Last year I came millimeters from death when that bullet pierced through my skin. My triumphant return to the White House was never supposed to happen! But I believe that God saved me for one reason: TO MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!'
The former president’s rhetoric drew a direct line between surviving the 2024 assassination attempt in Butler, Pennsylvania, and what he sees as his divinely ordained mission. 'This is our moment to show the world that we will NEVER back down, NEVER give an inch, and NEVER SURRENDER in our fight to save this country,' Trump declared, urging supporters to make the $15 contribution 'one for the record books.'
Federal Election Commission data confirms that 'Never Surrender, Inc.' has already raised $1,865,656.03 in 2025 alone—an impressive haul for a single-issue, 24-hour campaign. Yet the fundraiser’s spiritual framing, and Trump’s explicit connection between donations and his own afterlife prospects, have sparked both curiosity and criticism among faith leaders and commentators.
Trump’s recent musings on heaven aren’t entirely new, but they have grown more prominent—and more public—in the past month. In an August 2025 interview with Fox & Friends, he confessed, 'I want to try to get to heaven if possible. I’m hearing I’m not doing well. I’m really at the bottom of the totem pole.' He went on to suggest that brokering peace between Russia and Ukraine might serve as his ticket to the 'pearly gates.' As he put it, 'If I can save 7,000 people a week from being killed, I think that’s pretty– I want to try to get to heaven if possible, I’m hearing that I’m not doing well. I am really at the bottom of the totem pole. But if I can get to heaven, this will be one of the reasons.'
These remarks have prompted a wave of responses from the Christian community. Russell Moore, writing in Christianity Today, offered a pointed reminder: 'Jesus said that it is very difficult for those who are wealthy or powerful to enter his kingdom (Mark 10:25). He said that to follow him means we lose our lives in order to find them again in his life. To actually enter heaven, you have to give up that mindset of earning your way there. You have to recognise your own need for something you can’t win or achieve or earn.' Moore concluded with a direct jab at Trump’s business persona: 'To see the way to heaven, stop thinking of yourself as a president or a billionaire, if only for a moment. You can’t get to heaven with the art of the deal.'
Other faith leaders have echoed these sentiments, emphasizing that neither political power nor financial contributions can guarantee eternal life. As summarized by The Economic Times, commentators have pointed out that 'the Bible says you can't get to heaven by making deals or giving money; you have to be humble and have faith.'
Trump’s blending of religious rhetoric with political fundraising is not unprecedented. Throughout his political career, he has frequently invoked God and faith, often appearing at campaign events and official functions surrounded by religious leaders. In 2024, he even marketed a special edition 'God Bless the USA' Bible, inspired by Lee Greenwood’s patriotic anthem and retailing for $59.99—or $1,000 if signed. Each Bible included not just scripture but also the lyrics to the song, as well as the U.S. Constitution, Declaration of Independence, Bill of Rights, and Pledge of Allegiance. Critics, however, were quick to label the product 'blasphemous' or even 'heresy.'
Despite the criticism, Trump’s religious appeals continue to resonate with a segment of the Republican base, particularly the Christian right, which has been a cornerstone of his support since his first campaign. Images of pastors and faith leaders laying hands on Trump have become iconic, and his messaging often frames his political journey as a battle between good and evil.
This latest fundraising effort, however, represents a new level of personal vulnerability—at least rhetorically. Trump’s references to his own mortality and spiritual uncertainty are a marked departure from his usual self-assurance. The timing of the email campaign also coincided with a period of intense speculation about his health, fueled by rumors of strange bruises and his absence from public events. Trump himself attempted to quell the rumors by posting on Truth Social that he had 'NEVER FELT BETTER IN MY LIFE.'
The fusion of faith, politics, and fundraising is hardly unique to Trump, but his approach—explicitly tying small-dollar donations to his own spiritual destiny—has few parallels in modern American politics. For some, it’s an audacious blend of showmanship and sincerity; for others, it’s a transparent play for sympathy and support from his most loyal followers.
Yet, as the fundraising numbers show, the strategy is effective. With more than $1.8 million raised by 'Never Surrender, Inc.' in 2025, Trump’s ability to mobilize his base through unconventional—and sometimes controversial—appeals remains undiminished. Whether this latest campaign will help him in his quest for the White House, or, as he puts it, the 'pearly gates,' is a question only time—and perhaps higher powers—can answer.
For now, Trump’s message is clear: the fight, both political and spiritual, is far from over. And for $15, supporters can be part of his journey—wherever it may ultimately lead.
