
"Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews
MT 2:3 When King Herod heard this he was disturbed and when he had called together all the people's chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Christ was to be born.
Curious, isn’t it, that when the magi came looking for the one who was born king of the Jews, everyone knew the king wasn’t Herod, including Herod, the sitting king! It would have been just as easy for Herod to say, “Well, open your eyes. You’re looking at him!” (after all, he had been born, just not born a king. He was a made king). Herod knew he was a poser and not the real thing. It showed in his insecure, devious, destructive, jealous nature.
A “poser” driven insecurity feeds a desire to eliminate the competition. If the other person wins, they might take over, and you would lose your position, power, or possessions. If Herod were the genuine article, the true leader, he would have acted like it by opening the door to the next king, by pointing people toward God’s provision. True leadership develops and promotes others more than self. Herod wasn’t a true king. The true king was in the manger in Bethlehem, while the false king was in the palace, counting out his money. Herod’s posing was revealed by his jealous, competitive, insecure nature. Jealousy and posing go together with competition and insecurity.
The first step to making way for the true king in our lives is to recognize I’m not the king and to stop acting like I am, to stop pretending. True greatness is to recognize I am designed to develop others, and to lift them up to where they belong and grow smaller myself. A competitive, I-want-to-win spirit is indicative of insecurity, indicative of a self-centered focus. It betrays me as a poser, not a true leader. Developing and helping others to win, even take over, is the way to greatness, to true leadership.
When I was 14, my little brother J was making a valiant effort to capture my king in chess. This time it was more than a valiant effort, he had maneuvered into a winning position. But, before he could make the final move, the chess board got bumped and all the pieces fell over. I was off the hook. To this day I still don’t know whether that chess board got bumped by my brother’s excitement at an impending win, or by my Herod-like posing as the superior big brother (or was it big “bother”).
I’m still fiercely competitive in games. Maybe it’s time I grew up and became less competitive in games and more of a developer rather than just posing as a winner.



