c. 1996 Religion News Service
(Samuel K. Atchison is an ordained minister who has worked as a policy analyst and social worker to the homeless. He currently is a prison chaplain in Trenton, N.J.)
UNDATED _ The recent fall and ultimate demise of Nicholas Bissell Jr. bear a terrible irony: He became what he hated. A tough-talking, no-nonsense prosecutor who ended his life as he was cornered by police in a sleazy Nevada motel, he proved in the end to be as weak and craven as the bullies he prosecuted.
In the same way that convicted criminals will often manipulate anyone to escape the consequences of their actions, so, too, did Bissell. He used the homes of his wife and mother to secure a $300,000 bond after his conviction for felonies committed while he served as a prosecutor. Bissell then jumped bail, leaving his family’s financial future in jeopardy.
Moreover, in the same way that prison inmates often fear retribution for their crimes, so, too, did Bissell rue his comeuppance. His last words before shooting himself _”I can’t do 10 years”_ indicate that beneath the facade of the crusading crime-fighter there beat the heart of a coward who thought he was above the law.
The story of the former prosecutor in New Jersey’s Somerset County is an example of the American Dream gone awry. Working by turns as an assistant public defender, assistant county prosecutor, and part-time judge, Bissell developed a reputation as an effective, if flamboyant, attorney.
When, at age 35, he was appointed Somerset County’s chief prosecutor by then-Governor Thomas Kean, the one-time frustrated athlete appeared to have finally found his niche in life. Yet it is precisely at this point _ the height of his career _ that his 13-year slide to oblivion began.
A desire for the good life and an insatiable craving for power led Bissell to violate the very laws he had sworn to uphold. At the time of his suicide on Nov. 26, he faced a 10-year prison sentence as a result of being convicted on 30 federal felony counts, including embezzlement, abuse of power and mail fraud.
For many, the saga of Nicholas Bissell is merely the latest in a series of incidents in which public servants become public enemies by violating the public trust. Indeed, just beyond the strewn wreckage of disgraced appointed and elected officials lay the ruined careers of clergy, athletes and business leaders alike.
Our icons, it seems, are dropping like flies.
And yet, perhaps that is as it should be. For an icon, by definition, is”an object of uncritical devotion: an idol.”In other words, an icon is something we worship, a god in whom we place our trust.
If our icons are failing us _ be they politicians, entertainers or war heroes _ they are human and thus unworthy of”uncritical devotion.”Such reverence should be reserved for God alone.
No doubt hero worship has its perks. Slavish devotion can be great for the ego. But at the end of the day, the revered object runs the risk of believing the hype. One can come to believe, as Bissell apparently did, that the rules do not apply him.”Thou shalt have no other gods before me,”says the First Commandment. This is because to elevate anyone to the place of God demeans both the object of devotion and all who worship there.
Seen in this light, perhaps the failure of our icons is a good thing. In the shattered pieces of those empty emblems, perhaps we will rediscover God.
MJP END ATCHISON
