Do not worship me, I am not God. I'm only a man. I worship Jesus

“Do not worship me, I am not God. I’m only a man. I worship Jesus Christ.” — Thus declared Haile Selassie I, Emperor of Ethiopia, the Lion of Judah, the King of Kings — a ruler revered by millions, yet one who walked with humility before his Creator. In these words lies a truth that shatters the illusions of pride and divinity that often cling to power: that no man, however exalted, stands above God, and that true greatness lies not in being worshiped, but in worshiping rightly. This declaration, simple yet profound, reveals the spirit of a king who understood that the crown is not a sign of divinity, but a call to serve in reverence to the Divine.

The origin of this saying rests in a moment of both reverence and misunderstanding. In the twentieth century, the Rastafari movement rose from the heart of Jamaica, proclaiming Haile Selassie as the living God, the long-awaited messiah foretold in prophecy. To them, he was not merely a king, but the earthly manifestation of the Almighty — the return of the divine in flesh. When the emperor learned of this devotion, he did not respond with pride or vanity. Instead, he answered with humility, saying: “Do not worship me. I am not God. I am only a man. I worship Jesus Christ.” These words revealed the depth of his faith and the purity of his heart — a ruler who, when lifted to the height of divine glory by others, chose instead to kneel before God.

In his humility, Haile Selassie joined the company of the wise and righteous throughout the ages — those who understood that power is a trust, not a throne, and that the true measure of greatness is submission to the will of the Creator. Like King David, who sang, “The Lord is my shepherd,” or Moses, who led nations but dared not claim divinity, Selassie saw himself not as master of men, but as servant of God. Though the world called him the Conquering Lion, he called himself a follower of the Lamb of God. He wore the robes of an emperor, yet his heart was clothed in humility — that virtue which even angels envy in man.

To grasp the meaning of his words, one must see the paradox of power and humility. The higher a man rises in the eyes of the world, the more perilous his path becomes, for glory blinds and praise intoxicates. Many kings before him had fallen to pride — Pharaohs who called themselves gods, emperors who demanded worship, rulers who built monuments to their own names. Their kingdoms crumbled, for they forgot the source of their power. Haile Selassie, standing upon the throne of a nation ancient as time, did not forget. He reminded his people — and all generations after — that divinity belongs to God alone, and that even the greatest among men must bow to the Eternal.

History, too, bears witness to the danger of misplaced worship. In Rome, the emperors once claimed to be gods, their statues raised in temples, their names invoked in prayer. Yet the empire that sought to deify man rotted from within, for no mortal can bear the weight of worship. Humanity, when raised to the level of deity, becomes corrupt; divinity, when humbled to walk among men, becomes salvation. Haile Selassie’s wisdom was to reject what others in history had embraced — to refuse the flattery of godhood, and to cling instead to the truth of faith.

In this way, the emperor became not only a political ruler, but a spiritual teacher. His words were not a denial of the Rastafarian spirit, but a redirection of it — from man to God, from the symbol to the source. He reminded his followers that the light they saw in him was not his own, but the reflection of the Christ he served. Just as the moon shines only by the light of the sun, so every good and righteous man reflects the radiance of the divine. “Worship not me,” he said, “but the One who gives me life.” In that humility lies his eternal greatness, for he taught that no man, however wise or noble, can replace the Creator.

So, my children, take this teaching to heart: beware of false gods, even those born of admiration. Worship no man, no idol, no mortal glory. Honor those who lead with virtue, but reserve your worship for the Eternal alone. If even kings kneel before God, how much more should we? Strive, therefore, to live as Haile Selassie lived — strong in duty, steadfast in faith, and humble before the divine. Let your greatness be measured not by the praise you receive, but by the reverence you give.

And remember, as the emperor himself reminded the world: man is but dust without God, and the highest throne is only as steady as the heart that kneels before Heaven. To worship rightly is to see clearly — to recognize that power passes, but righteousness endures. Walk humbly, love deeply, and serve faithfully. For in humility before God lies the only true majesty.