Stating the Obvious

At the risk of stating the obvious, Nero was not a nice man.

The fifth emperor of Rome, Nero reigned from AD 54 to AD 68. He had a widespread reputation for being “tyrannical, self-indulgent, and debauched” (Wikipedia). He killed his mother and has been suspected or accused of killing his first wife, second wife (although this is questioned by modern historians), and step-brother. After his second wife’s death in AD 65, he had a young man who resembled his second wife castrated, married him, and started treating him as a woman. He was believed to have started the Great Fire of Rome in AD 64; after the fire, he rebuilt Rome, including a new palace complex, the Domus Aurea (“Golden House”), funded by heavy taxation and devaluing the Roman currency. After the fire, he was said to have tortured and killed Christians, perhaps blaming them for the fire, and had some early Christians burned alive. Later tradition said that Peter was crucified and Paul beheaded during Nero’s persecutions. When political winds finally turned against Nero (due in part to a rebellion against his taxation), he fled to a villa outside of Rome. He planned to commit suicide, lamenting, “What an artist dies in me.” He ultimately could not go through with the deed and instead forced his secretary to kill him.

Nero remained infamous after his death; a legend soon arose that he had survived and would return to conquer his enemies and lead Rome. At least three impostors, claiming to be Nero, organized rebellions, and the belief in Nero’s return, called the Nero Revividus legend, persisted in some places for centuries. Some scholars believe that Revelation’s beast from the sea, which received a lethal wound but was healed (Rev. 13:3), is an allusion to Nero Revividus. (John, or the Spirit through John, could have easily chosen imagery and metaphors that would be familiar and vivid to John’s first leaders.)

This forms the backdrop for 1 Peter, which evangelical scholars believe was perhaps written sometime around AD 62-64. In 1 Pe 2:13-17, Peter writes:

Be subject to every human institution for the Lord’s sake, whether to a king as supreme or to governors as those he commissions to punish wrongdoers and praise those who do good. For God wants you to silence the ignorance of foolish people by doing good. Live as free people, not using your freedom as a pretext for evil, but as God’s slaves. Honor all people, love the family of believers, fear God, honor the king.

Notice what Peter does not say: “Honor the king, as long as he isn’t tyrannical, self-indulgent, or debauched.” “Be subject to the king, unless he starts fires and blames you for it.” “Honor the king under normal circumstances, but if he starts killing family members or burning people alive, feel free to verbally attack him.” 1 Peter may have been written before Nero’s persecutions started, but even then, Nero’s character wasn’t the sort that an observant Jewish Christian would approve of. And, if Nero’s persecutions would have changed things, it’s hard to imagine Peter’s inspired instruction not including that caveat.

I think of this sometimes when I see a “Let’s go, Brandon!” sign or dip my toes in the constant stream of political jokes, memes, and insults on Facebook or Twitter. Because, if Peter didn’t write, “Be subject to and honor the king, unless he’s a self-indulgent, debauched tyrant,” he certainly didn’t write, “Be subject to and honor the ruler, unless he’s a senile socialist” - or an orange-skinned grifter, or a closeted Muslim from Kenya, or an American idiot, to cover a sampling of the insults from the last twenty years of American presidential politics.

This doesn’t mean that we automatically obey those in power. Peter earlier said that, if forced to choose between God and humanity, he would obey God (Acts 5:29). And this doesn’t mean that we can never criticize those in power. Even in this passage, Peter speaks of “the ignorance of foolish people,” and John the Baptist and Jesus both have pointed criticism for political leaders (Mt 14:4, Lk 13:32). And there may even be a place for vivid or even inflammatory language; both Jesus and Paul did that if the issues they were addressing are important enough (e.g., Mt 23:27, Gal 5:12). But I’m not nearly as wise or mature as Jesus or Paul. And I also notice that the New Testament speakers’ most pointed criticisms are reserved for people claiming to be members of the religious community - those who claim to share with us a higher standard, whose actions are causing genuine spiritual danger to fellow believers. I’m afraid that many of our political memes, jokes, commentary, and slogans aren’t about offering a moral challenge or applying God’s standards or protecting fellow believers. They too often feel like just complaining, venting our spleen about situations we have limited ability to change, bonding with those who share our views by tearing down those who don’t.

Does this mean that there’s never a place for political humor? I’m not sure. Satire is a powerful tool. Humor can be healthy (especially if we’re poking fun at ourselves or those in our faction), and it can be a useful coping mechanism. And I certainly have laughed and shared the occasional critical joke. But, even if it’s not inherently wrong, I’m not sure that our constant stream of negative political humor and commentary is spiritually or psychologically healthy. If our fundamental mentality is to be one of honoring and respecting those in authority, it’s hard to reconcile that with some of the attitudes I see on Facebook and Twitter. And I’m reminded of C.S. Lewis’s warning in Mere Christianity about loving our enemies:

The real test is this. Suppose one reads a story of filthy atrocities in the paper. Then suppose that something turns up suggesting that the story might not be quite true, or not quite so bad as it was made out. Is one’s first feeling, “Thank God, even they aren’t quite so bad as that,” or is it a feeling of disappointment, and even a determination to cling to the first story for the sheer pleasure of thinking your enemies as bad as possible? If it is the second then it is, I am afraid, the first step in a process which, if followed to the end, will make us into devils. You see, one is beginning to wish that black was a little blacker. If we give that wish its head, later on we shall wish to see grey as black, and then to see white itself as black. Finally, we shall insist on seeing everything - God and our friends and ourselves included - as bad, and not be able to stop doing it; we shall be fixed for ever in a universe of pure hatred. (p. 91)

I’m not a fan of Joe Biden. I have from time to time complained about him. But this message from him happened to pop up in my Twitter feed sometime around Easter last year:

As we reflect today on Christ’s Resurrection, we are reminded that with faith, hope, and love — even death can be defeated. From our family to yours, we wish you hope, health, joy, and the peace of God, which passes all understanding. Happy Easter and may God bless and keep you.

This was an important reminder to me - regardless of what I think of the leadership and policies of Biden (or Trump, or Obama, or Bush), what’s far more important is whether they and I are following Christ. Paul writes about this in 2 Cor 5:15, in talking about what it means to live for Christ as ambassadors of reconciliation: “From now on, therefore, we regard no one according to the flesh” (ESV). Regarding our political leaders as partisan allies or enemies, as the butts of our jokes or as a means to the end of punishing our foes, is regarding them according to the flesh. Instead, let’s give them the same honor and respect that Peter gave Nero, while continuing to live as ambassadors of Christ.