Are we the kind of people our presidents need us to be?

On the eve of Barack Obama’s inauguration, historian Martin Marty penned a piece titled “Farewell, President,” in which he revisited a biting yet profound sentiment from the legendary columnist Mike Royko. Reflecting on the exit of Lyndon B. Johnson, Royko had written: “Farewell, President Johnson. You weren’t the best president a people ever had, but we were not the best people a president ever had.”

It is a sobering thought to carry into President’s Day. We spend a great deal of our national energy auditing the character, the efficacy, and the legacy of the person behind the Resolute Desk. We debate who belongs on the “Mount Rushmore” of leadership and who was merely a placeholder in history. Yet, we rarely turn the mirror around to ask what kind of citizenry we have been to those we elected to lead us.

Leadership is not a vacuum; it is a relationship. The competence of a president is often measured by their ability to navigate the complexities of the American people, a demographic that is rarely easy to please and frequently impossible to unite. We are a people of high demands and short patience. We want swift solutions to old problems, and we often expect our leaders to embody a standard of virtue that we ourselves do not always practice in our local communities or behind our keyboards.

The difficulty of the office is compounded by the fact that a president does not lead a monolith. They lead a collection of competing interests, loud voices, and deeply entrenched wills. To be a “good” president requires more than just policy expertise; it requires the stamina to withstand the weight of a public that is often as divided as the government itself.

In the search for a genuine connection between our civic duty and a higher calling, we find a directive that addresses the “people” rather than the “leader.” The Bible does not offer a checklist for how to critique a ruler, but it does offer a command on how a people should conduct themselves in relation to authority. It suggests that our role as a citizenry has a direct impact on the peace of our society.

In the New Living Translation, 1 Timothy 2:1-2 instructs: “I urge you, first of all, to pray for all people. Ask God to help them; intercede on their behalf, and give thanks for them. Pray this way for kings and all who are in authority so that we can live peaceful and quiet lives marked by godliness and dignity.”

This scripture doesn’t make the quality of our prayer contingent on the quality of the leader’s performance. Instead, it suggests that “peaceful and quiet lives” are fostered when the people prioritize intercession over indignation. If we are “not the best people a president ever had,” perhaps it is because we have swapped the “godliness and dignity” mentioned in the text for the cheaper thrills of partisan vitriol.

As we celebrate the history of the American presidency, we might do well to honor the office by elevating our own standard of citizenship. The American experiment is a two-way street. While we are right to hold our leaders to a high standard, the health of the nation also depends on a people who are willing to be led with a measure of grace, a commitment to truth, and a sincere desire for the common good.

Instead of merely ranking the names in the history books today, consider the atmosphere we create for the leaders of tomorrow. A great nation is not built solely by the person at the top, but by a people who understand that their own character is the soil in which leadership either withers or thrives.

Scotty