Burdens

Perhaps the two happiest men in the world right now are George W. Bush and John McCain. Bush finishes eight stressful years as President of the United States, and McCain, though obviously disappointed at having lost the election, narrowly avoided four pressure-filled years. Those who seek the Presidency do so for different reasons, but most all would agree that the job is far from easy, and now Barack Obama faces the unique challenges and pressures that go along with the office. In light of that and a unique opportunity for all believers, I share a chapter from my book, Presidential Profiles:

In 1832, a third-party candidate for the U.S. presidency lost, breathed a sigh of relief and declared, “A culprit pardoned at the gallows could not have been more lighthearted.” Prior to George Washington’s precedent-setting inauguration in New York City, he wrote a friend stating that he felt “not unlike a culprit who is going to his place of execution.”

The office of President of the United States carries with it burdens unlike any other. Most of our early presidents did not actively seek the office, and acceptance of the party’s nomination was considered a patriotic duty. Thus, they felt the burdens of responsibility even more.

William H. Taft opened his inaugural address by stating, “Anyone who has taken the oath I have just taken must feel a heavy weight of responsibility. If not, he has no conception of the powers and duties of the office upon which he is about to enter, or he is lacking in a proper sense of the obligations which the oath imposes.” Two years later, portrait painter Zorn noted that Taft was “so weary that it shows in his face.”

Several presidents wondered if the glory of the office merited the pressure on the person. James Garfield once cried, “What is there in this place that a man should ever want to get in?” Thomas Jefferson exited stating, “Never did a prisoner, relieved of his chains, feel such a relief as I shall on shaking off the shackles of power.”

John Quincy Adams summarized his presidency as “the four most miserable years of my life.” Andrew Jackson called the presidency “dignified slavery.” William McKinley wept openly when he was forced into a decision to make war.

The dual problems of political pressure and personal grief have brought many crushing sorrows. Calvin Coolidge wrote when his son died, “The glory and power of the Presidency went with him.” Chester Arthur ritualized his loss by daily placing a fresh bouquet of flowers before the picture of his wife, who died shortly before he became president. Abraham Lincoln never seemed quite the same after the death of his son, Tad. He had to endure both his own loss and his melancholy wife, who never recovered from the boy’s death.

Personal jibes often add to the woes of the presidency. John Tyler, the first president to be elevated to the presidency by the death of his chief, was called “His Accidency.” Overweight John Adams was named “His Rotundity,” and Taft was called “a mass of presidential fat.” Lincoln was described as “the most ugly man in the Union.” Rutherford B. Hayes, who won the presidency by one electoral vote, was known as “His Fraudulency.” Others nicknamed him “Rutherfraud Hayes.” When Harry Truman drew fire, his critics quipped, “To err is Truman.”

Truman had not originally sought the presidency. On the death of Roosevelt, with history his teacher and his unsought position posing an ominous challenge, he stepped before the press to implore, “Boys, if you ever pray, pray for me now!” In retrospect he called the Executive Mansion a “Great White Prison” and later recalled his entrance on the great presidential adventure. “I felt like the moon, the stars, and all the planets had fallen on me. I've got the most terrible job a man ever had.”

The service as Chief Executive has shortened lives, if not by assassins’ bullets, then by mounting stress. James K. Polk worked the hardest, perhaps, of any American president, denying himself pleasurable relaxations, which others rightly took for granted. He left the presidency a totally exhausted man and died a few weeks later. A friend of Franklin Pierce once traced his premature deterioration, noting that he “had seen him bound up the stairs with the elasticity of a schoolboy,” but after four years he went out “a staid and grave man upon whom the stamp of care and illness was eradicably impressed.”

The burdens of the presidency, while less vocalized in recent years, have still remained brutally heavy. Passing the presidential torch to John F. Kennedy, Dwight Eisenhower spoke words of solemnity. “No easy matters will come to you. If they’re easy, they will be settled at a lower level.” When the full implications of the office became apparent, Kennedy said, “Nixon should have won the election.”

Lyndon Johnson felt the twin burdens of the presidency and his predecessor’s untimely death. With the rifle shots scarcely quiet, he stood in Dallas to promise and plead, “I will do my best. That is all I can do. I ask for your help and God’s.” After winning one election in his own right and with re-election chances boondoggled by a dismal war in Vietnam, he told an astonished country that he would neither seek nor accept another nomination. When his plane sped from Washington, “In about two minutes the burden lifted,” he declared.

“Silent Cal” Coolidge summarized the truth. “Anyone who carried this awesome responsibility comes to realize, with an increasing sense of responsibility, that he is but an instrument in the hands of God.”

It is important who governs in the White House, but it is of more consequence who prays in your house. It is not only important—it is mandatory. The Apostle Paul enjoined every Christian with the Scriptural injunction “that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men, for kings and for all that are in authority, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty” (I Timothy 2:1, 2). Let us pray that no burden, criticism, or personal pain shall either break the President’s spirit or mar his judgment.

When John Adams arrived at the White House, he penned a letter to his wife. “…I pray Heaven to bestow the best blessings on this house and on all who shall hereafter inhabit it. May none but honest and wise men rule under this roof.” Franklin Roosevelt had these words cut into the mantle of the State Dining Room.

Grover Cleveland’s last words were, “I have tried so hard to do right.” May Adams’ prayer be answered so that Cleveland’s words might be repeated.

Dave Virkler


P.S. Presidential Profiles presents fascinating facts and stories about many American presidents—from George Washington to George W.—to illustrate truths from God’s Word and present the Gospel. Chapters include “The First,” “Unfinished Business,” “The Trial,” “Tunnel Vision,” “The Pardon” and “The Great Communicator” as well as a compilation of the references to God, prayer and Scripture in inaugural addresses. The 90-page, soft cover book is available for a special suggested donation of $5. We have a limited number of copies left. Click here for information on ordering.