At the end of January, I found my painting, “The Gulf of Empathy,” going viral, quite by accident. I want to tell you a little about what I learned through going viral — and for what “going viral,” I think, means for the larger moment in time.

After the painting went viral, seen by hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of people around the world, I knew this moment was bigger than me, and the outpouring of love and support I received as an artist was as much a testament to Bishop Budde, speaking truth in the face of malevolent power. Her words that day spoke to millions of people.

Her message was profound — and we need to hear more of this side of Christianity, rather than the hate-filled rhetoric of exclusion, racism, sexism, and violence that seems to be what the evangelical side of Christianity, the ones who get to voice the “Christian response” in the media, offers. The one that’s also been promoted to Trump’s Office of Faith, which will be searching for “anti-Christian bias” in the United States. But whose Christianity, which bias?

The rest of the world — the people I heard from — felt more promising. They are full of empathy and compassion, and I got the emails and responses to prove it. From everywhere.

The world is with you, Bishop Budde, and with those who stand up for the marginalized, the unprotected, and who stand up to tyranny and megalomaniacs and oligarchs. People around the globe understand, on an international diplomacy level, on a war-mongering level, that everyone is in danger with Trump and Elon Musk in power. And they find hope in reminding him, and us, what the role of a leader should be.

This is why, I think, a little painting went viral.

“The Gulf of Empathy,” is an 11 x 15 watercolor and mixed media painting based on how I felt about the real-life moment Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde delivered her sermon at the inauguration. In the painting, I show the Bishop standing with hundreds of people, her arms outstretched to protect them, as Donald Trump, his administration and the billionaires stand on the other side of a great gulf, which I call “the Gulf of Empathy,” a play on the Gulf of Mexico, something he purposefully refuses to acknowledge as well. It is another great gulf that he has trouble bridging.

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