I enjoy biographies of leaders. I just finished listening to one about George Armstrong Custer, a man of low morals and unparalleled battlefield ability (until overwhelmed at Little Bighorn). Leaders carry heavy responsibilities and their decisions, wise or foolish, effect all who fall under the umbrella of their actions.

King David decided to take a census of the nation’s fighting men. While such a count was not wrong in itself, David’s order arose from pride. Even Joab, the leader of the armed forces, objected to this wrong-headed idea. But David insisted and the numbering began.

As a result the Lord punished not just David, but the entire nation. A plague broke out and killed 70,000 people. Broken and mourning, David appealed to God. Was it not I who ordered the fighting men to be counted? I, the shepherd, have sinned and done wrong. These are but sheep. What have they done? Lord my God, let your hand fall on me and my family, but do not let this plague remain on your people.

The Lord relented but the lesson burned. Leadership carries broad implications. Thoughtful decisions (or no decision in this case) bless many. Poor ideas broadly implemented create suffering, as David discovered too late.

We’re encouraged to pray for our leaders: I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness (1 Timothy 2).

I fail on this account by rarely praying for those in leadership. I lose sight of just how much leaders influence how I live. One clear reason we pray for our leaders—national, statewide, local and at work—is that in praying for our leaders we’re also praying for ourselves.

1 Chronicles 21 in Through the Bible in 2024

Photo by Markus Spiske