Bad King Good

Today my five year old listened to the story of King Herod (the man who killed baby boys in the time of Jesus because he felt threatened) and asked me if he ever turned into a good guy. Previously we’d studied the book of Daniel, so I’m sure he was thinking about how King Nebuchadnezzar had a come-to-Jehovah moment. A bad king turned good…Did Herod also bow down with the wisemen at the feet of the King?

Since no one sprinkles blood around their nativity scene or depicts the slaughter of infants ordered by Herod (he didn’t want to risk any baby boy growing up to take his place), I realized this was a fair question. Jesus and his persecuted family had to run and hide from an evil man. We don’t usually display these facts as we celebrate hope, joy, love, and peace.

No, I told him. Herod didn’t bow. Jesus and his parents lived hidden lives, hoping for anonymity and waiting for the king to die.

Then Foy, my budding kindergarten theologian, popped another chicken nugget in his mouth and said, “Even kings have to know God.” What he meant, in so many words, was that even kings and rulers, no matter how important, are subject to Someone higher up the ladder.

We sure expect a lot from world rulers, even though I’m afraid we know how corrupt they are. It goes without saying that absolute power corrupts absolutely. Why, if your success balloons into god-level stratosphere, you are bound to believe you have created it yourself. You have hitched your wagon to your own neck, and the blood and sweat and muscles and gold towers alone surely prove you are worthy.

I have been thinking about impeachment matters. This is something I haven’t thought much about since ninth grade government class. But I have been listening to the Hamilton soundtrack on repeat to break up the Christmas music monotony, and I don’t believe our forefathers had prophetic foresight when they drafted the Constitution. They simply knew evil was at the heart of man, so the more direct their corporate vision, the more checks and balances in place, the better chance it had for serving people long term. One person in charge=no bueno.

It isn’t blind luck that we’ve had any virtuous man historically in office. We might act surprised by the actions of men, but God is never surprised. There is a proverb that says, 

A king’s heart is like streams of water in the hand of God;

He directs it wherever He pleases.

Proverbs 21:1

It is odd to me that we expect a corrupt man to show virtue, and yet every time we elect a new official, they come with a rap sheet. I cannot name one man or woman who hasn’t fouled up their record with their mouth at one time or another. Trump might be outrageous, a liar, idiotic–whatever one may scream, but cannot even an idiot, tempered by other idiots, be willing to preserve my right to think, speak, work, live as I see morally fit? Why aren’t we reveling in the fact that our president doesn’t have the power to take our babies and slaughter them outright, as China did for thirty-five years? I am treading lightly, but why is it that we look at issues such as abortion or gay rights and let them stir us up to boiling point–when freedom, though born of good will, ultimately gives people the license to choose as they see fit?

I admit it is fragile. I want to live uprightly; I want to speak on behalf of the innocent and spend my life showing mercy. But I cannot direct another person’s heart like streams of water in my hand. Only God can do that.

A president will always raise hackles. What is intolerable is dismissing virtue as nothing more than an asinine opinion, hate at best. We must not look for a relevant creature, but a warm blooded one. One that can listen, slightly wiser than a fool. I’m waiting for them to queue up, but these type seem to stay out of the spotlight. 

I do not think any public servant has ever cared or thought about me. I don’t even believe they are public servants. I only hear from them every so often, like a stray dog being called to eat when they want my vote. I see them on TV when the news anchors apologize for them, for everyone, for overspending the budget. By the time they are elected, they no longer are looking out for my best interests. They are too busy slapping the biting mosquitoes at their neck.

 We are compelled to look elsewhere if we are in need of a savior. 

Good news–he came, born in Bethlehem.

He, Jesus, is the one who provides the heart surgery we need. He emphasized our humanity in the face of God. He showed us what true freedom is–the choice we make when we ask him to release us from our chains. He offers peace and turns our eye away from public mayhem and inwardly to the corners of our heart. Let me tidy up this place, he whispers. I’ll give you my perspective.

God came low. He is infinitely more interested in the man or woman who is serving our country in the unseen places, the folks who do not need Twitter or any platform to blow off steam. The grassroots folk who are still trying to figure out how to love a neighbor, wrapping their mind around what it meant “we hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal.” (Thank you, Lin-Manuel, for putting it into song.)

We had another conversation, my kids and I. “What’s freedom?” the five year old had asked. It was too hard to explain unless I tried to frame it as what freedom isn’t. “There are countries,” I explained, bluffing as I went and hoping it made five year old sense, “where you are not allowed to have more than one child. You must work at the job someone else chooses for you. They don’t want you to have a religion, follow God, or go to church because they want you to treat your country as a god.”

“Oh,” he nodded, solemn. “I’m glad we have freedom.”

I am, too. Freedom is a gift from God. It’s garden of eden level good. Freedom is having the choice to walk in the light or eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil–and reveling in it.

We taste a glimpse of freedom just living in a country where we can impeach a ruler and disagree with one another at the water cooler tomorrow. Where we can write articles and publish them, not fearing recourse or imprisonment. Freedom, like it or not, is the ability to stir up hate or love, to sway others to your way of thinking, to try and persuade a man he is a sinner in need of a savior.

Freedom is praying–and optimistically hoping–for bad kings to turn good.