The Pilgrimage of Homage from Politics to Christ

A Comparison Between Political Pilgrimages and the Epiphany of Christ

The following is an essay co-written by yours truly and (

Teer Hardy

), and Rev.

Sara Keeling

.

Call it human nature, call it lunacy, but there is something curious about our tendency to venerate those in power. It is as if we’re wired to bow, seek approval, pay homage, and seek favor from those who wield influence. This isn’t a new phenomenon in the course of human history. However, it is striking how visible this phenomenon becomes in the political sphere, especially during transitions of power. As a new presidential administration prepares to take office, Mar-a-Lago has become the epicenter of a modern pilgrimage. Instead of gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, visitors bring endorsements, strategic alliances, and quiet (and not so quiet) pledges of loyalty.

In the first century, Jerusalem was also a place of pilgrimage and seat of power. This is why the magi originally went to this city in search of a baby-born King of the Jews. They approached King Herod, assuming this child had been born into his household. But we know that Jesus was born instead in the little town of Bethlehem, surprising the world once again with God’s choices.

The magi are clear in their agenda, they desire to pay homage, to worship, this new king. Herod is clear in his agenda as well. While he asks the magi to keep him posted on where the child is located, we all know his version of paying homage is to issue an execution order for all baby boys in the vicinity. Herod wanted homage, worship, and special favors for himself. He never had any intention of bowing down to anyone else.

Herod was a king out for his own self-interest and precarious power, not unlike many rulers who followed him. Not unlike rulers who are approaching their own inauguration or coronation. Rulers manage to be the recipient of a great deal of homage (whether intentional or not).

This behavior reveals a deeper paradox. In a nation that prides itself on democracy and the rejection of monarchy, we often act like we still want a king—someone to align with, revere, and protect us. Regardless of the party in power, these pilgrimages take place whenever there is a shift in the administration running DC.

Mar-a-Lago Pilgrimages: Who’s Paying Homage?

The list of those who have made their way to Mar-a-Lago reads like a who’s-who of American influence. Tech giants, political heavyweights, and business leaders have all sought face time with the president-elect. Even those who once viewed the president-elect as an adversary are lining up.

These meetings aren’t just about policy discussions. They’re about access, influence, and securing a foothold in the incoming administration. But they also raise a question: what does it cost to pay homage to power? Are these gestures driven by principle—or are they simply pragmatic displays of allegiance to maintain relevance? So much saving ass going on.

The Bezos Bow and Our Aversion to Critique

One of the most telling moments in this dynamic came not from the halls of Mar-a-Lago but from the editorial board of The Washington Post. When cartoonist Ann Telnaes depicted Jeff Bezos—the owner of the Post—bowing before Trump, the cartoon was denied publication. The editorial board stated the decision was made because the cartoon was not ready for publication and the cartoon repeated two recently published articles with a similar theme. At the same time, Telnaes believes she was being silenced. The imagery was pointed, highlighting the power dynamics and quiet compromises often at play behind the scenes. But the decision to censor the cartoon was just as revealing.

A draft of the cartoon that Ann Telnaes said had been rejected by The Washington Post.

Why do we resist calling out this behavior for what it is? The homage we pay to power is often cloaked in the language of pragmatism—“building relationships,” “keeping lines of communication open,” or “doing what’s necessary.” Exposing it strips away those justifications, leaving us uncomfortable with the truth: we are bowing and don’t want anyone to notice.

Why I'm quitting the Washington Post

Why We Keep Bowing

The ritual of paying homage to power isn’t limited to politics or business. It’s a deeply ingrained habit, a mix of self-preservation and admiration for those who hold influence. There’s a certain logic to it. Aligning with power can bring rewards—access, protection, and status. But it’s also a risky game. The line between pragmatic loyalty and ethical compromise is razor-thin, and it’s easy to cross without realizing it.

And then there’s the deeper issue: why do we keep looking for someone to bow to in the first place? Maybe it’s because we’re drawn to the idea of security, of someone who can fix what’s broken or shield us from uncertainty. But the paradox of power is that it rarely delivers on those promises. More often than not, it consolidates itself, leaving the rest of us scrambling to keep up.

Rethinking Our Allegiances

So, where does that leave us? Maybe it’s time to reconsider who—or what—we’re bowing to. Paying homage to power can feel inevitable, but it doesn’t have to be. We can ask harder questions about our leaders and ourselves. Are we supporting someone because they represent our values or because aligning with the powerful is easier? Are we bowing out of conviction—or convenience?

These aren’t easy questions, but they’re worth asking. Power is seductive, and homage often feels like the path of least resistance. But real strength comes from resisting that pull, from standing firm in the face of power rather than bowing to it.

If we don’t, the rituals will continue: the pilgrimages to Mar-a-Lago (or wherever power resides), the public displays of loyalty, and the quiet compromises made behind closed doors. And we’ll keep pretending it’s just politics, just business, how the world works—when, in reality, it’s so much more revealing about who we are and what we value.

The Epiphany of Power: Paying Homage to the Light of Christ

But in the Christian faith, the homage paid to power contrasts the adulation given to Christ. During the season of Epiphany, the Church celebrates the revelation of Christ as the true Light of the World. It is a light that does not demand worship from a desire for reciprocal gain or self-preservation but invites homage from a deep experience of grace. The Magi, who bowed before the infant Christ, did so not because they expected anything in return but because they were overcome by the Light of the Savior that had shone forth, guiding them to worship. They were overwhelmed by joy—what a powerful image—to kneel and offer gifts simply out of joy.

The Magi’s offering of gold, frankincense, and myrrh was a gesture of pure reverence, acknowledging the mystery and majesty of God-made flesh. Their journey was not motivated by pragmatic concerns or the promise of power but by a profound recognition of divine grace—a grace that the light of Christ alone reveals. This is the nature of true homage: a response not to power as the world defines it but to a grace that transcends all power.

In this light, the Church today, much like the Magi then, pays homage to Christ not out of expectation or to secure favor but because we, too, have experienced the transformative light of grace. In a world so consumed with seeking power and aligning ourselves with its symbols, the Church calls us to remember that true homage is not given in pursuit of a quid pro quo but in awe and gratitude for the grace and love that are revealed in the face of Jesus Christ.

The season of Epiphany reminds us that while the world bows before earthly powers in exchange for access or advantage, the Church bows before Christ. In his humility and self-giving love, Christ offers us all the grace of his light—freely given, without expectation or condition. As we pay homage, we do so because we have experienced this light, and it is the only true power worth adoring.