Bless This Mess

Too many of our leaders are Herods, of a sort. 

I love the advent season, largely because it gives me a good excuse to read stories about Jesus. I spend probably too much time feeling guilty for not reading some of the neglected parts of Scripture, but not during this season. As Christmas approaches, I let myself luxuriate in the delightedly familiar stories of the coming and life of our Lord. 

I also love that this reading aligns with sermons typically preached at this time of year. This is particularly appropriate this week, as most of the credit for this post goes to my pastor for his message last Sunday. In a message focused on our motivation for seeking Jesus, my pastor revealed some compelling insights about the villain of Jesus’ early years: Herod. More specifically known as Herod the Great, this ruler had a reputation for being an prolific builder. Most importantly, he had a hand in substantially expanding the second temple—an iconic moment in Jewish history.  If we could leave off there, it would seem Herod is hardly deserving of his reputation. 

Unfortunately, Scripture does not let this him off so easily. As recorded in Matthew, while the Magi were seeking the newborn Jesus out to worship him, Herod was terrified at what Jesus’ birth meant for his position. After all, the arrival of a true king would mean the end of this Roman puppet’s time at the top. In the end, Scripture claims Herod was so threatened by what Jesus’ birth could mean that he ordered the butchering of countless infants in one of the bleakest moments of the New Testament. 

Let me be clear: I don’t think that last sentence applies to most American leaders. 

Rather, the part that I think should prompt reflection for American Christians is the intersection of Herod’s historical reality and his biblical persona. By expanding the temple, Herod closely tied his legacy with God. For as long as that temple stood, Herod’s name would be connected with the Jewish people’s worship. At the same time, Herod was driven to murder and madness by the mere threat of God’s actual existence in the person of Jesus. While Herod wanted his name associated with the temple, he wanted nothing to do with the God who actually dwelt within. 

Here is where American Christians can find our parallel. 

For at least the last fifty years, American presidents have habitually concluded remarks with some variant of the phrase, “God bless America.” Some day, I may indulge myself by taking the time to research the history of this phrase more fully. For now, though, I would wager it has a much deeper history than just a half-century of presidential utterances. These three words have become iconic—if also at times ironic—for much of modern America.

The question, however, lies not in the frequency, but in the sincerity of these invocations of our Lord. Our leaders have made a habit of inviting God to bless our nation, but do they actually want anything to do with him? Even the first supposed presidential use of the phrase raises doubt: Richard Nixon spoke this while trying to manage the fallout of his criminal activity in the Watergate scandal. While the self-enforced brevity of these posts stops me from writing a beat-by-beat analysis of our subsequent commanders-in-chief, I feel confident in saying they could at best offer a mixed bag of devotedness to the God they pray would favor the United States. Like a sort of Herod, our elected officials want to be associated with God, without actually living and leading as he would call them to. 

My question, though, is why Jesus’ people would satisfy ourselves with leaders who only pay lip service to our Lord? In this advent season—when we let ourselves remember the joy of Jesus’ coming—we should demand better. When God came to this world in humble human form, he showed us what godliness actually looked like. He set the standard for how all God’s people must strive to live. As the joy of Christmas approaches, I pray the Holy Spirit clarifies our vision of Jesus, and reminds us to be disappointed by any leader who merely attempts to benefit from our Lord’s splendor without actually following his commands.