Not the only Messiah Complex in town

I was shocked this week. Having worked as a doctor, pastor and magistrate (and as a father!) I like to think I am not easily shocked. But an image in a friend’s Facebook feed made my jaw drop.

It was the now-deleted but still much-discussed AI-generated image of Donald Trump – posted by him on Truth Social – wearing white robes with a red mantle. His light-radiating hand is placed on a sick man’s head. He is surrounded by admiring onlookers (all of them white and one with praying hands) and patriotic symbolism. Silhouetted against a bright light in the sky are apparent angelic reinforcements – most in modern combat gear but the central one strangely shaped and seemingly horned.

All Evangelical Focus news and opinion, on your WhatsApp.

In writing about culture and politics, I try to be fair. I find it troubling when Christians dismiss any leader wholesale. Demonisation is the enemy of discernment. So, I listened carefully to Trump’s explanation that he thought the image showed him as a doctor and that any Jesus-like interpretation was “fake news”.

[destacate]‘Messiah complex’ is not a clinical diagnosis. But it is a useful term for a spectrum of attitudes in which people come to believe in themselves as the only answer to a problem[/destacate] But the imagery was undeniably messianic. It echoed artistic depictions of Jesus healing the sick. This was not white coat and stethoscope, but white robes and miracles. Whatever the intention, the symbolism was theologically charged in a way Christians cannot ignore. Especially coming after a series of stories of evangelical leaders praying with the president in terms that portray him as a divinely appointed saviour.

But this is no tirade against Trump. This image matters less for what it says about Trump – troubling as that is – than for what it exposes in us. Because the truth is uncomfortable: he is not the only one with a messiah complex.

‘Messiah complex’ is not a clinical diagnosis. But it is a useful term for a spectrum of attitudes in which people come to believe in themselves as the only answer to a problem.

Lurking inside many Christian leaders is the same impulse. It surfaces in subtle but recognisable ways:

• stories that cast the leader as the hero of courageous faith;


• biographies that trade heavily in credentials and competencies;


• marketing and promotional materials that spin the truth;


• reports and appraisals that overlook the negative;


• the display of titles and awards in Christian settings.

Having identified these, I want to be both careful and honest.

Careful, because it is easy to make unfair judgements about people’s motivations. Credentials and titles are not always inappropriate. In some contexts, they open doors for the gospel, especially where Christian values are not assumed. Competencies are God‑given gifts that should be used for his glory.

But we must recognise that these things are not the currency of God’s kingdom. They should be used sparingly and what we do with the doors they open is key. Every good thing we have or achieve is a gift of God’s grace. He deserves the glory.

Honest, because I know I’ve done these things myself. Before writing this article, I revisited the sample biographies on my own website and reworded them because I saw they were too credential-heavy. I know the desire for recognition and praise lives in my own flesh, and only by God’s power can I put it to death. I am not an impartial or innocent bystander.

But, I think we need to name the truth.

[destacate]God called me, so I’m indispensable. I started it or built it, so I own it. I know others contributed, but I was the linchpin[/destacate] We have a problem. We have allowed a worldly culture to develop in the Church. People can get ahead by curating their reputations and flattering gatekeepers. Claims are not always fact-checked. Concerns are often dismissed. Style impresses more than substance.

Yet the culture is not the root issue. The culture is fuelled by the deeper problem of our hearts. We allow ourselves to think things like:

• God called me, so I’m indispensable.


• I started it or built it, so I own it.


• I have served and sacrificed, so I’m owed it.


• My gifts and achievements are who I am.


• I know others contributed, but I was the linchpin.

We seldom say such things aloud – or even to ourselves – but these lies of the enemy grip the hearts of Christian leaders in subtle ways. They feed the flesh. They stoke the flames of envy and selfish ambition. They displace Christ and place self on the throne. They echo the ancient temptation: “You will be like God” (Genesis 3:5).

The ‘Messiah Complex’ spectrum spans two extremes.

[destacate]My hope is that we will examine ourselves by the same standard. Not only those who are leaders, but those who are tempted to put a leader on a pedestal[/destacate] At one end are people who care deeply and, so, overinvest, crossing boundaries to the detriment of their own health and their family’s. This kind of ‘saviourist’ thinking must be named, and such people need help to remember that Christ alone is the ever‑present, all‑powerful Saviour and Lord, and that He calls His servants to the easy yoke.

At the other end is something far more destructive – the narcissist driven by the insatiable need for approval and significance and the unshakable conviction of their own exceptionalism. This too must be named, and such a person must not be entrusted with Christian leadership.

Many evangelicals, including in the USA, have publicly commented on the recent imagery and statements associated with the president. But my hope is that we will examine ourselves by the same standard. Not only those who are leaders, but those who are tempted to put a leader on a pedestal.

The first book I wrote is Clarion Call: Finding Joy in Christ with John the Baptist. I don’t mention this to promote the book, but because its message confronts me again as I write. I wanted my first book to focus on Jesus, and John is a wonderful example of a highly gifted man who consistently turned the spotlight away from himself and onto Christ. One of the first things John said on record – his opening testimony – was: “I am not the Christ” (John 1:20).

[destacate]Knowing who we are not is the gateway to knowing who Jesus is. If I am the saviour, I do not need Him[/destacate]Knowing who we are not is the gateway to knowing who Jesus is. If I am the saviour, I do not need Him. When I realise my own inadequacy I begin to grasp how much I need Him.

And knowing who Jesus is opens the gateway to knowing who I am — a sinner saved by a great Saviour, a recipient of grace, a servant of a wonderful Lord.

In closing, I will quote the final paragraph of the chapter in Clarion Call where I explore the significance of John’s confession. These are words I need to hear and, perhaps, you too:

So, accept that you cannot change the world. You can play a part as the servant of God, but until you humble yourself and realise that your primary task is to testify to Jesus, you will never bring lasting change to anything. This is a freeing truth. Stop trying to be a world-changer. You were not made to carry the world’s weight on your shoulders. Stop thinking you need to do something significant. You were not called to liberate God’s people or mediate a covenant with Him. Stop trying to light a fire in yourself. You were called out of darkness to tell the world about the light you find in Jesus. John knew it and we must learn it too.

Paul Coulter, author, executive director of the Centre for Christianity in Society in Northern Ireland. This article was first published on the author's blog, Connected Christianity. If you would like to be informed when the Christian Leadership Integrity Commitments are released, please subscribe to this blog.

[analysis]

[title] Do you see a need for this kind of journalism? [/title]

[text] Evangelical Focus is a network of many people in Europe and beyond who strive to bring a uniquely Christian perspective to the big issues of conversation.

Through news, interviews, opinion and analysis, we seek to build bridges between evangelical churches and the societies in which they live.

As a non-profit entity, the big challenge is to be sustainable, month by month. We invite you to make a difference! Join the readers who make Evangelical Focus possible.

[/text][/analysis]