Rep. Tony Gonzales, R-Texas, abruptly announced his decision to resign from Congress Monday evening amid calls for him to step aside after admitting to sexual misconduct with a staffer earlier this year.

The embattled lawmaker was facing an anticipated expulsion vote that could have occurred as early as this week. 

“There is a season for everything and God has a plan for us all. When Congress returns tomorrow, I will file my retirement from office,” Gonzales wrote on social media. “It has been my privilege to serve the great people of Texas.”

It is currently unclear when Gonzales will formally resign. A spokesperson for Gonzales did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

His announcement came just an hour after Rep. Eric Swalwell, D-Calif., said he planned to resign after facing allegations of sexual misconduct and rape.

This is a developing story. Check back for updates.

The general consensus is that President Trump’s social media post of himself dressed in robes, after a busy weekend in which he blasted Pope Leo and attended a prizefight while an Iran peace plan fell apart, was an attempt to cast himself as a Jesus-like figure.

But Trump says we have it wrong.

“It’s supposed to be me as a doctor, making people better,” he said.

As a graduate of St. Peter Martyr grade school in the San Francisco East Bay area, and as someone who has seen a lot of doctors for various ailments, I feel uniquely qualified to weigh in.

In Catholic school, holy cards are a big deal. You’ve seen a couple hundred of them by the time you hit second or third grade, so you become familiar with the muted ethereal glow, the heavenly gaze and the look of piety. A standard feature is the halo, a clearly defined sphere that sits like a buttered bonnet on the head of the saint.

Let the record show that in his post on his very own Truth Social, which is not always truthful, Trump does not have a halo.

So in total fairness, it’s possible the president was not lying when he said he was supposed to be a doctor.

On the other hand, having seen a good number of cardiologists and surgeons and orthopedic specialists, I don’t recall any doctors who wore flowing robes while bathed in heavenly light, with a flock of eagles coming out of their ears and a team of Navy SEALs busting through the hospital ceiling.

And then there’s the fireball emanating from Trump’s right hand. All of which poses the question: If Trump thinks this is what a doctor looks like, what ailment is he being treated for, and shouldn’t the public be advised?

There’s also the question of creation — not of human life but of the very existence of a social media post like this from the president of the United States in wartime. It was described as an AI-generated image, but who was at the computer?

Did the president sit down at the end of a long day and churn out an image of himself playing doctor, if not Jesus Christ? Or does he have a team of staffers who do this sort of thing, and if so, how could Elon Musk have missed them when he said the government was bloated and set out to fire half the federal workforce?

You’d at least hope the president would have the courage of his convictions. But as criticism of his post mounted, Trump deleted it Monday morning.

I think he should have stuck with the story — he was portraying himself as a doctor because he’s a healer. The next day, he could have been in a New York Jets uniform and told us he’s a quarterback. Then he could have released an image of himself in the Artemis space capsule and told us he’s an astronaut and he’s thinking of building a string of Trump hotels on the moon. Ask yourself this: Would anyone have been surprised?

A guy who only knows how to go for broke, and always doubles down when things go wrong, has to stick to his guns or the whole shtick unravels. I’d have respected Trump more if he had traipsed around the White House with a stethoscope for a week or two, or maybe performed brain surgery on Pete Hegseth, just to see what’s going on in there.

What’s going on in Trump’s head, if I might volunteer a bit of armchair psychoanalysis, is that failure triggers a sense of grandeur rather than humility.

Things are not going well at the moment, so he’s lashing out. The prices of things were supposed to come down on Day One, but thanks to his upheaval of the world economy, prices went up, and now they’re soaring because he helped start a war that made no sense.

A war that has been criticized by Pope Leo, who has pointed out that while the Trump administration has ascribed a religious imperative to the assault on Iran, and Trump promised to blow the country all the way back to the “Stone Ages,” Jesus would probably not be on board.

Trump, who said last year that he wants to “try and get to heaven, if possible,” now realizes he’s not going to get an endorsement from the pontiff.

And so the man who once issued a national call to prayer, said the Bible was his favorite book, joked after the death of Pope Francis that he wanted to be the next pontiff, and has now issued his own holy card, has attacked Pope Leo for being too liberal as well as “weak on crime and terrible for foreign policy.” He has, in effect, anointed himself as holier than the pope himself.

Even staunch supporters of Trump have worked themselves into a lather over this. They’re lashing out at Trump, as if his criticism of the pope and depiction of himself as Jesus Christ are shocking.

My fellow Americans, certain words have been rendered meaningless in describing the current state of affairs. Among them are shocking, surreal, unbelievable, unprecedented and unexpected.

If indeed Trump thinks he’s Jesus, let his penance begin with 100 Our Fathers, 500 Hail Marys and 1,000 Acts of Contrition.

If indeed he thinks he’s a doctor:

Physician, heal thyself.

steve.lopez@latimes.com