In 1534, Henry VIII—whom the Pope dubbed “Defender of the Faith” because of his work opposing Luther’s teaching—broke from Rome and established himself as the head of the newly formed Church of England. What caused the change? Henry wanted to retain his grip on power, and to do that, he needed the male heir his wife couldn’t provide him—yet the Vatican wouldn’t grant his divorce.

Henry didn’t break from Rome because he held to the doctrine of justification by faith alone but because he held political power as his ultimate good. Politics, not religion, motivated his nefarious deeds. That’s why he put to death both Catholics like Thomas More and Protestants like Thomas Cromwell.

Esteem power and control above personal piety, and you’ll invariably follow a similar course. That’s exactly what happens in 1 Kings 12 to the first king of Samaria.

Jeroboam’s Sin

After Solomon’s death, his kingdom is split. Solomon’s son and heir, Rehoboam, listens to the foolish advice of his young friends instead of heeding the wisdom of his father’s faithful counselors. So Jeroboam leads 10 tribes to secede from David’s house. That northern kingdom, Samaria, persists in rebellion until Assyria annihilates it centuries later.

Jeroboam knows his new dynasty rests on precarious foundations, for the temple of the God who made him king now sits in enemy territory. What will happen when his people make their annual pilgrimages to Jerusalem—the rival capital—to worship in the temple? He anxiously frets,

The kingdom will now likely revert to the house of David. If these people go up to offer sacrifices at the temple of the LORD in Jerusalem, they will again give their allegiance to their lord, Rehoboam king of Judah. They will kill me and return to King Rehoboam. (1 Kings 12:26–27, NIV)

What is Jeroboam to do?

Like the man against whom he rebelled, Jeroboam listens to foolish advice and constructs new cultic centers. Like Aaron, whom he quotes, he fashions golden calves his people can worship in place of God, and tells the Israelites, “Here are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt” (v. 28). Are these meant to be the visible bulls on which the invisible God rides, instead of false gods? Perhaps—but that does little to mitigate the unpardonable idolatry he leads his people into.

Idol Beneath the Idols

What’s the real motivation behind Jeroboam’s idols? What’s the idol beneath the idols? Jeroboam tips his hand by placing one statue in Dan and the other in Beersheba, using them to mark the boundaries of his new kingdom. What Jeroboam does would be like an American politician setting up matching temples in New York and L.A., or one on the 49th Parallel and the other on the Rio Grande. The implication is clear: This is a national religion meant to serve a political purpose.

What Jeroboam did would be like an American politician setting up matching temples in New York and L.A., or one on the 49th Parallel and the other on the Rio Grande.

That’s the problem. Pure religion has now been made to serve petty political interests. It’s first and foremost an idolatry of power. The king’s needs and wants outweigh the proper worship of the one true God.

Thus, Jeroboam breaks the first commandment as much as or more than he breaks the second. And once he breaks the first—once he rates his desires above God’s glory—all the rest fall in rapid succession. Jeroboam soon appoints priests who aren’t from Levi’s tribe (never mind Aaron’s line), and he establishes festivals to rival those God had commanded to help his people remember his wondrous works. Jeroboam flouts God’s decrees with impunity.

Christopher Wright sums up this sad story: “Religion was co-opted to serve the national interest.” Politics perverted pure religion. As it still does even today.

Power Plays Big and Small

But it’s not just about politics. This isn’t just a question of our highly polarized political culture—Team Red and Team Blue locked in an epic struggle for control of the nation. This is about power big and small, and that’s a pressing question even for the local church, which has struggled with factionalism since its inception (1 Cor. 3:3–4). Can power corrupt pure religion even among God’s holy people?

Whenever we put our personal interests above the right and zealous worship of God, we’ve fallen into Jeroboam’s error. We’ve fallen into an idolatry of power. How many churches have suffered because factionalism has fractured the unity of the Spirit? Even in small matters, the desire to “win”—to be the one selecting song styles or carpet patterns or discipleship approaches—often leads us astray.

We give in to “bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice” to ensure our victory, forgetting the kindness, compassion, and forgiveness to which Jesus calls us (Eph. 4:31–32, NIV). Entrenched “pillar” families might ignore Hebrews 13:17 and run a Timothy or Titus out of town, refusing to share power with some young upstart who will do things differently. And young upstart pastors might forget Proverbs 16:31 and condescendingly dismiss their elders’ wisdom in their arrogant assumption that they know better because they’ve got letters after their name. We mar the beauty of God’s Bride when we place our petty interests ahead of God’s kingdom purposes.

Whenever we put our personal interests above the right and zealous worship of God, we’ve fallen into Jeroboam’s error.

And, yes, this temptation also applies to national politics, too. The Christian ethic certainly has political implications. But if we put party politics above pure religion, we’ll inevitably flaunt God’s good decrees like Jeroboam. Insist our party must win at all costs, and we’ll soon face mounting moral debts.

We’re regularly tempted to excuse obvious immorality because we’re thrilled with policy wins. We face the uneasy conscience of the post-churched mind as we celebrate in “our team” what we’d condemn in the other. We might refuse to turn the other cheek because the time requires a fighter, not a doormat—never mind the Sermon on the Mount, never mind that we follow a crucified Savior who triumphed in his defeat (and so might we).

Your ‘God’ or Your King

That’s the only truth that will pry any person’s fingers from his or her grip on worldly power. Each one of us has a choice. Like Jeroboam, we can push God (and his good commands) to the margins, elevating our personal and political interests above his pure worship. Or, like Jesus, we can “lose” some petty political conflict to gain all God has to offer.

Like Jeroboam, we can point to lesser ends and lesser means and lesser divinities and brazenly claim, “Here are your gods.” Or, like Jesus, we can humble ourselves, “lose” by every worldly standard, yet trust in the ultimate, unrelenting victory of the Father. What Pilate intends ironically, we accept as the supreme truth and unqualified example: “Here is your king” (John 19:14, NIV).

May we follow him above all earthly kings.