Might
Commentary
There are all kinds of power and might displayed in our world. We hear about the physically mighty weight lifters, and children play with the "power rangers." The "movers and the shakers" are those who occupy influential positions so that they can exert their power to make things happen. This is a might within the context of social and political structures. Occasionally, too, we hear of another kind of might, that which has to do with inner character and integrity. This might is expressed in quite different ways than political-social influence and sheer physical strength. It is the inner motivation that compels one person to sacrifice her or himself for the sake of others. For instance, there are those who have endured much suffering without becoming discouraged and defeated, and we say that they are "strong" people.
Sometimes in particular individuals we find that inner strength of character produces social and political influence. Examples of such people surely include Martin Luther King, Jr., Mother Teresa, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, and Jimmy Carter. Their influence is due in large part to the fact that they have demonstrated strong moral character. Might comes in several different forms and types in our world.
Often, however, we get these types of might confused with one another. Our infatuation with celebrities may lead us to think that some who achieve prominence are mighty, in one way or another. One of the important discussions of the past year entailed the question of the requisite strength and integrity of character for holding the office of President of the United States and having all the social and political power that comes with the office. There are practical reasons for our understanding the variety of power exhibited in our world, and there are Christian reasons for discerning the differences and relationships among kinds of might. Each of our lessons presents us with a kind of might and assesses its importance.
2 Samuel 11:1-15
David's story has thus far narrated one success after another, going back as far as David's battle with Goliath. Second Samuel 5:10 is a summary of the story: "And David became greater and greater, for the Lord, the God of hosts, was with him." David came to occupy a unique position in Israel's history as the ideal king, after whom the messiah would be modeled. Nations have a way of idealizing their heroes, as we have surely idealized George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. However, the Hebraic understanding of human nature comes to vivid expression in the episode told in this passage (and continued in next Sunday's First Lesson). David is a mighty king, to be sure, but how does he use that might?
David's adultery with Bathsheba is one of the classic stories of the Old Testament, and it has intrigued the human imagination for centuries. Most likely we are fascinated with this story because it captures something deep within most us -- something buried in our subconscious that we may not want to reveal. David uses his power and influence for immoral and abusive ends.
Verse 1 simply sets the stage of the story. The warm and pleasant spring weather of the year brought the outbreak of hostilities among the nations, and David has his favorite general, Joab, off annihilating the Ammonites and their capital city, Rabbah. Left in the safety of Jerusalem, the king lusts after the wife of Uriah, one of the Hittite soldiers doing battle on David's behalf. Verses 2-5 quickly relate the tale. David has his way and gets Bathsheba pregnant.
Now, what's the king going to do? How can he cover up his immoral deed? David attempts three plans to sweep the whole nasty event under the rug and prevent its ever being made public. David has learned a great deal about maintaining his image in the minds of the people, and his blunder must not be known. His first effort entails having Uriah return to Jerusalem on a ten-day pass and allowing him to go home and be with his wife during this precious leave from action. Obviously, he hopes that Uriah will sleep with his wife and thereby make it possible for him to be the father of Bathsheba's child. However, Uriah's conscientiousness foils the carefully conceived plan. Uriah claims that he cannot sleep in luxury while his colleagues are sleeping in tents (or more literally, booths). Probably, too, Uriah's disciplined behavior is due to the prohibition against warriors having any sexual activity while engaged in a conflict (see Deuteronomy 23:9-14). Ironically, David had enforced the rules of purity on himself and his soldiers earlier (1 Samuel 21:5) and now tries to get out of his mess by enticing Uriah to violate them.
When David receives the bad news that Uriah has not slept with Bathsheba, he resorts to plan B. He tries the oldest trick in the book: get Uriah drunk enough, send him home, and he will not be able to resist Bathsheba. Wine will dull the Hittite's conscience! But not so! Plan B fails. Now what's the king to do?
Plan C is a dreadful alternative, and a last resort, but David is desperate by now. He sees his whole political career hanging in the balance and his reputation vulnerable to smearing. The plan is really quite simple. Send Uriah on a search and destroy mission way out ahead of the troops, then pull the troops back and leave Uriah out there alone to be killed. David's treachery is all the worse because he sends these evil directions to Joab via a letter which Uriah himself delivers. Our lesson ends here, but we know the rest of the story. At last one of David's plans works. Uriah is killed. David takes Bathsheba as his wife. Now David is home free. The elaborate cover up has worked.
The lesson lets us decide how we assess David's actions without benefit of God's assessment transmitted through Nathan in the next chapter. What has David done and why? It's a crystal clear case of abuse of power for the sake of personal gratification. David acts as if he is above the law, as if his power is unlimited, most especially by moral restraints. There is little that is unusual in this tale except that it is our bright and shining hero, King David, who is the guilty party. Lord Acton is famous for having said it so clearly: "Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely." In David's case, however, it is not simply a matter of the moral abuse of power. For David, the Lord's anointed, his deed is a revealing act of unfaithfulness to his God.
David's arrogant use of his might says so well what we all know and some of us have experienced. There is something alluring about might and power that seduces humans into thinking that there are no restrictions on our behavior. David models social and political might gone astray.
Ephesians 3:14-21
We are still trying to process the depth of David's abuse of power in a story in which the word "power" is never used, when the second reading asks us to consider another kind of might. While power has corrupted David, the author of Ephesians prays that the readers may be filled with power. Chapter 3 begins with a description of Paul's ministry to the Gentiles and his amazement that God would use one such as he for so noble a mission. Then the author bursts into prayer for the readers. The prayer has three parts. In the first, the author prays that readers will "be strengthened in your inner being" and that Christ will "dwell in your hearts" (vv. 14-17). In the second part, the prayer asks that the readers will be given "power," so that they may "comprehend" and "know" the meaning of what they have been given (vv. 18-19). The prayer then ends in a doxology focused on God's power and asks that God and Christ might be glorified in the church (vv. 20-21).
What kind of might is it that the author beseeches God to give the readers? The first sentence declares the universal significance of God, the Parent of humankind. Then the prayer reverses focus from the universal God to the inner life of the Christians and asks that readers be given strength and "power" through God's Spirit. The Greek is interesting and might be more literally translated "mightily strengthened" (dynamei krataiothavai). The verb "to strengthen" (in the passive) is combined with the noun "power." (The Greek word for "power" used throughout the reading is the source of our word, "dynamite.") This is an unusual power, however, for it comes as a result of our finding our roots in love. It is an inner might that is loving, not selfish.
The second part of the prayer (vv. 18-19) continues the petition for power, and again suggests a strange sort of might. It is a power that results in comprehension and knowledge. The author prays God will use the divine power in us to help us "comprehend" the whole of reality -- "the breadth and length and height and depth" (v. 18). This is to understand the totality of the context in which we live, that is, the whole universe. Moreover, the prayer entreats God to enable us to "know" what is beyond knowledge, namely Christ's love in all of its fullness. If we know that love, then the "fullness" of God -- that is the very heart of the Divine -- will saturate our lives.
The brief prayer concludes with a doxology which continues the theme of "power." God can produce results in us that are beyond what we could ever clearly "imagine"-- much less request of God. God gives us more than we know we want. If this prayer is granted, then God will be glorified. It is worth noting that while the prayer has spoken of "inner being" and "heart" (vv. 16-17), the prayer is for the community, the "church," and not strictly for individuals. This suggests that God's power and might come to us through the community of faith of which we are a part.
What a radically different kind of might. Earlier we spoke of the "inner power" of character, but that label hardly seems adequate to describe a might that roots in love, brings knowledge and comprehension of the essence of what's real, and finally fills us with the soul of God. This is the might to live in faithfulness with our Creator and to embody the divine care and compassion revealed in Christ. Indeed, it is a might that stands over against worldly conceptions of power -- even the strength of character -- and transcends any physical or social or political influence. Can we Christians think of ourselves as mighty people in Christ? Can we embody for the world a strength and power that is beyond all that we may value in our culture? The Second Lesson promises that in Christ this is precisely the might God gives us.
John 6:1-21
Last Sunday we saw how Christ showed us that human care and compassion constitute God's home in our midst. Now this Sunday the theme of power is completed in Christ's wondrous deeds of love. This Sunday also begins a series of five Propers in which the Gospel reading is from John 6. Preachers need to ready themselves for this extended concentration on one chapter. We begin the series of five lessons with the Johannine accounts of the feeding of the multitude (vv. 1-15) and his walking on water (vv. 16-21). In both cases, the mighty Christ expresses the divine power that is his for the sake of human life.
The story of the feeding of the multitude is both similar and dissimilar to those recorded in the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew 14:13-21 -- the Gospel Lesson for Proper 13, Year A -- Mark 6:32-44 and 8:1-10 and Luke 9:10-17) and like Mark and Matthew ties the feeding with Jesus' wonder of walking on the sea. The details of those comparisons need not concern us except as John's unique features may betray a specific interpretation of the two wonder stories.
The lesson begins with a reference to Jesus' "signs" and how they attracted a crowd. The feeding is called a "sign" in verse 14, and by implication the sea-walk is also a sign. In the fourth Gospel, Jesus' wondrous acts are sometimes called "signs" (semiea), which reveal Jesus' identity and evoke faith (e.g., 2:11), but sometimes attract people for the wrong reason (see 6:26 and 4:48). The narrator prepares us to understand the next two stories as acts by which Jesus demonstrates who he is and also inserts a note that "the Passover ... was near" (v. 4). Mention of three Passovers provides a structure for John's story of Jesus (see 2:13 and 12:1) and suggests that God's revelation in Christ constitutes a new Passover.
Jesus poses the problem of feeding the crowd to Philip, although he knows exactly what he is going to do. The question and Philip's response accentuate the marvel that is about to occur. The fourth Gospel alone includes the detail about the boy and his lunch, which gives the insignificant child a place in this mighty deed. "Barley loaves" were the cheapest bread one could buy (see 2 Kings 4:42-44). Jesus gives "thanks" for both the bread and fish, and then he himself distributes them among the people. These last two features of the story, combined with the Passover dating, have led many interpreters to see indications of the Eucharist (the word coming from Greek word for thanks, eucharisteo), leading some to think even that this story is John's account of the institution of the Lord's Supper. (Nowhere else in the fourth Gospel does Jesus establish the Sacrament.) The crowd's hunger is "satisfied" (v. 12), and the fragments filled twelve baskets. The number twelve may simply emphasize the wonder of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes, or it may be symbolic of the remnant of Israel who comprise the church. (The inner circle of the twelves disciples plays a minor role in John and are mentioned only once in 6:67.)
The crowd is impressed by Jesus' marvelous deed, and now they are determined to make Jesus their king. However, he escapes to a mountain alone, even though, ironically, the Gospel of John stresses that Jesus is king (e.g., 18:33-37). The reason for the disciples' embarking on a trip across the lake is not stated. However, we may assume that they think Jesus is on the other side, and they seek to join him. They join him all right, but not as a result of their seeking but of Jesus' coming to them. Their situation was dire, for it was dark and the sea was rough. Jesus came to them amid their distress, and does so by walking on the water.
His marvelous appearance, however, simply terrifies the disciples all the more. Jesus identifies himself and assures them that with him present there is nothing to fear. His self-identification is an instance of the "I am" (ego eimi) sayings in John. Literally the phrase means simply, "I am," but stated in an emphatic way, so that one scholar translates it, "I myself am." Since the personal pronoun is indicated in the form of the verb, there is no reason to state it (in this case, ego) unless some special emphasis is intended. Moreover, there is no predicate for the verb, and English translations tend to supply one, in this case "It is I" (v. 20). Many believe that the absolute "I am" without a predicate on the lips of Jesus suggests his identity with God, whose name is "I am who I am" (Exodus 3:13-14).
Assured that it is their Lord coming across the surface of the water to them, the disciples are then eager to have him aboard, but the boat is suddenly ashore at the disciples' destination. Wonders pile up on top of one another. Jesus feeds the multitude, walks on the water, and then the boat mysteriously lands. What kind of might is this? What sort of power is at work in this Jesus?
On one level, the wonders stuffed into this one lesson all address human need. The crowd is hungry; the disciples are frightened, and not yet at their destination. Jesus' might is given over to fulfilling human needs, much as his compassion is directed toward the same end.
However, something more is going on in this lesson. Jesus' power is not strictly his own, as he tells us again and again in John (e.g., 5:17-21), but God's power. Even as Jesus is the great "I am," so his power manifests God and glorifies God and not just himself. Ultimately, of course, Jesus' power and might are not intended to blow us away with his unique status and so compel us to believe he is the revelation of God. The might Jesus reveals is the power to bring people into relationship with their God, to build a bridge between humans and God, and to construct a new human identity as children of God (see 1:12).
So, the Second Lesson has it exactly right, namely, that God bestows mighty power on us through Christ. The most important power is one that overcomes the distance and alienation between us and our Creator and creates a new relationship of love. David had to learn that the might he had as king was not the essence of his royal role but his faithfulness to the God who had called him. In Christ, the power to make us new, to change our identities, and to fill us with love becomes ours. That's the promise of the gospel and our hope amid a world that values other kinds of might. In spite of physical weakness and social and political impotency, we have a power that can turn the world upside down.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
2 Samuel 11:1-15
In all likelihood, our text for the morning comes to us from an eyewitness in the court of King David of Judah. And he is a master storyteller. He himself interjects no judgments into his biography. He simply tells what happened. But by the way he gives his account, the characters of both David and Uriah are vividly portrayed to us. Our biographer tells the truth, even about a king -- an unprecedented procedure in the ancient Near East. But it is the truth which reveals most deeply.
In the opening sentence we are told that it is the spring of the year when kings go forth to battle. But that is vividly contrasted with the last sentence in verse 1: "David remained at Jerusalem." We thereby are given the notice that what follows in the story is not what a king worth his salt would do. Nevertheless, what follows are the actions of the Lord's anointed, the Lord's mashiach, the forerunner of the Messiah.
Details in the text carefully note the provisions of Israel's covenant law. First, in verse 4, we are told that Bathsheba is purifying herself from her uncleaness, according to the law of Leviticus 15:19-24. That is, she has completed her menstrual cycle and is probably near the end of the seven days of purification. Thus, she is entering her time of fertility, when she could conceive. How realistic is the Old Testament!
Second, Uriah is revealed to us as an absolutely upright man. When David summons him home on false pretense from the battle with the Ammonites, Uriah refuses to obey David's seemingly kind instruction to rest overnight in his own house with his wife. Even when David gets Uriah drunk, Uriah will not go home, choosing instead to sleep with minimum shelter for two nights at the entrance of the palace, where the servants sleep. Why is Uriah so obdurate? Because he is faithfully obeying the law of Israel.
In the battles of the Israelites with their enemies, from the time of the Judges on into the time of David, Israel's wars were conducted according to strict cultic rules. Before the troops went into battle, they consecrated themselves to the Lord, taking vows that set them apart from the normal routines of everyday life. And one of those vows was to abstain from normal sexual relations (cf. 1 Samuel 21:4-5), because they were dedicating themselves totally to God. In his reply to David in verse 11, Uriah therefore points out that the other warriors are camped out at the battle site, with the ark symbolizing the presence of God in their midst. He has consecrated himself as a warrior to the Lord, and he swears by an oath to David that he will not violate that consecration by going home to his wife. In contrast to David's scheming perfidy, Uriah is an upright and honest man, one to be admired for his dedication. He will obey his king, but not at the price of disobeying his Lord. So he remains an extra day with David, but does not violate his vow to God.
David, however, has committed adultery, in violation of the seventh commandment in the Decalogue, which David has sworn to uphold. Bathsheba carries the child in her womb that will reveal that sin, and David will go to any lengths to cover up his own wrong-doing. He therefore orders his commander Joab to place the upright Uriah in the first ranks of a battle, and then when the enemy attacks, to draw back the other men beside Uriah, so that the husband of Bathsheba will be killed. "You shall not kill. You shall not commit adultery. You shall not steal. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor ... You shall not covet your neighbor's wife" (Exodus 20:13-16, 17). Because of his lust for the beautiful Bathsheba, David, the anointed of the Lord, breaks every one of those basic commandments of the covenant with God.
"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive." David thinks to hide his sin from others -- and how familiar such deception is to us in our time and society! But we never can hide our sin from God. And neither can David, even though he is a mighty king with all the privileges of his office. David has set a course that will lead in the rest of his story to tragedy. God is on the scene, as he is on ours. Let those who have ears to hear, hear.
Lutheran Option -- 2 Kings 4:42-44
Chapter 4 of 2 Kings is made up of four miracle stories about the acts of the "sons of the prophets," those early non-writing prophets in Israel in the ninth century B.C. who lived together in closed colonies, ministering to the people and proclaiming the Word of the Lord. Each of the four stories concerns the power of one of the prophets to give life where there is trouble or death. Our particular text records an act of the prophet Elisha, who was the successor to Elijah, and who was noted for his pastoral care of the people. But in these verses, Elisha's succor is given to the prophetic colony itself.
There is a famine in Gilgal (v. 38), a village north of Jericho, near the Jordan River, in central Palestine, where there is a large colony made up of 100 of the sons of the prophets and where Elisha is lodging at the time. A follower of the prophets comes some distance from another town to supply food to the hungry colony from the first harvest of his fruits and grain. But the twenty loaves of bread and the sack of grain are not sufficient to feed all of the men present. Elisha nevertheless commands that the men be fed with the gift. When his servant objects that there is not enough, Elisha replies that all will eat and that some food will be left over, for "thus says the Lord," a Word of God that indeed proves true.
The story immediately reminds us, of course, of Jesus feeding the 5,000 from five loaves and two fishes (Mark 6:35-44 and parallels). Such events reveal to us the power of God and strengthen our confidence in him. But perhaps most notable is the fact that God feeds the hungry. Ours is not an other-worldly religion that wishes to escape the trials and sufferings of this world, as do some mystical religions of the East like Hinduism. The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is primarily interested in this world, and he wishes abundant life for all people upon this earth. And so when the prophets and the Messiah come, they give drink to the thirsty and bread to the hungry, and we are commanded to do likewise. For, taught our Lord Jesus, inasmuch as we have done it unto one of the least among us, we have done it unto him. Love for our needy neighbors is love shown toward Jesus Christ. We often ask, "How do we love God?" We do so by lovingly ministering to the needs of our fellow human beings.
Sometimes in particular individuals we find that inner strength of character produces social and political influence. Examples of such people surely include Martin Luther King, Jr., Mother Teresa, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, and Jimmy Carter. Their influence is due in large part to the fact that they have demonstrated strong moral character. Might comes in several different forms and types in our world.
Often, however, we get these types of might confused with one another. Our infatuation with celebrities may lead us to think that some who achieve prominence are mighty, in one way or another. One of the important discussions of the past year entailed the question of the requisite strength and integrity of character for holding the office of President of the United States and having all the social and political power that comes with the office. There are practical reasons for our understanding the variety of power exhibited in our world, and there are Christian reasons for discerning the differences and relationships among kinds of might. Each of our lessons presents us with a kind of might and assesses its importance.
2 Samuel 11:1-15
David's story has thus far narrated one success after another, going back as far as David's battle with Goliath. Second Samuel 5:10 is a summary of the story: "And David became greater and greater, for the Lord, the God of hosts, was with him." David came to occupy a unique position in Israel's history as the ideal king, after whom the messiah would be modeled. Nations have a way of idealizing their heroes, as we have surely idealized George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. However, the Hebraic understanding of human nature comes to vivid expression in the episode told in this passage (and continued in next Sunday's First Lesson). David is a mighty king, to be sure, but how does he use that might?
David's adultery with Bathsheba is one of the classic stories of the Old Testament, and it has intrigued the human imagination for centuries. Most likely we are fascinated with this story because it captures something deep within most us -- something buried in our subconscious that we may not want to reveal. David uses his power and influence for immoral and abusive ends.
Verse 1 simply sets the stage of the story. The warm and pleasant spring weather of the year brought the outbreak of hostilities among the nations, and David has his favorite general, Joab, off annihilating the Ammonites and their capital city, Rabbah. Left in the safety of Jerusalem, the king lusts after the wife of Uriah, one of the Hittite soldiers doing battle on David's behalf. Verses 2-5 quickly relate the tale. David has his way and gets Bathsheba pregnant.
Now, what's the king going to do? How can he cover up his immoral deed? David attempts three plans to sweep the whole nasty event under the rug and prevent its ever being made public. David has learned a great deal about maintaining his image in the minds of the people, and his blunder must not be known. His first effort entails having Uriah return to Jerusalem on a ten-day pass and allowing him to go home and be with his wife during this precious leave from action. Obviously, he hopes that Uriah will sleep with his wife and thereby make it possible for him to be the father of Bathsheba's child. However, Uriah's conscientiousness foils the carefully conceived plan. Uriah claims that he cannot sleep in luxury while his colleagues are sleeping in tents (or more literally, booths). Probably, too, Uriah's disciplined behavior is due to the prohibition against warriors having any sexual activity while engaged in a conflict (see Deuteronomy 23:9-14). Ironically, David had enforced the rules of purity on himself and his soldiers earlier (1 Samuel 21:5) and now tries to get out of his mess by enticing Uriah to violate them.
When David receives the bad news that Uriah has not slept with Bathsheba, he resorts to plan B. He tries the oldest trick in the book: get Uriah drunk enough, send him home, and he will not be able to resist Bathsheba. Wine will dull the Hittite's conscience! But not so! Plan B fails. Now what's the king to do?
Plan C is a dreadful alternative, and a last resort, but David is desperate by now. He sees his whole political career hanging in the balance and his reputation vulnerable to smearing. The plan is really quite simple. Send Uriah on a search and destroy mission way out ahead of the troops, then pull the troops back and leave Uriah out there alone to be killed. David's treachery is all the worse because he sends these evil directions to Joab via a letter which Uriah himself delivers. Our lesson ends here, but we know the rest of the story. At last one of David's plans works. Uriah is killed. David takes Bathsheba as his wife. Now David is home free. The elaborate cover up has worked.
The lesson lets us decide how we assess David's actions without benefit of God's assessment transmitted through Nathan in the next chapter. What has David done and why? It's a crystal clear case of abuse of power for the sake of personal gratification. David acts as if he is above the law, as if his power is unlimited, most especially by moral restraints. There is little that is unusual in this tale except that it is our bright and shining hero, King David, who is the guilty party. Lord Acton is famous for having said it so clearly: "Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely." In David's case, however, it is not simply a matter of the moral abuse of power. For David, the Lord's anointed, his deed is a revealing act of unfaithfulness to his God.
David's arrogant use of his might says so well what we all know and some of us have experienced. There is something alluring about might and power that seduces humans into thinking that there are no restrictions on our behavior. David models social and political might gone astray.
Ephesians 3:14-21
We are still trying to process the depth of David's abuse of power in a story in which the word "power" is never used, when the second reading asks us to consider another kind of might. While power has corrupted David, the author of Ephesians prays that the readers may be filled with power. Chapter 3 begins with a description of Paul's ministry to the Gentiles and his amazement that God would use one such as he for so noble a mission. Then the author bursts into prayer for the readers. The prayer has three parts. In the first, the author prays that readers will "be strengthened in your inner being" and that Christ will "dwell in your hearts" (vv. 14-17). In the second part, the prayer asks that the readers will be given "power," so that they may "comprehend" and "know" the meaning of what they have been given (vv. 18-19). The prayer then ends in a doxology focused on God's power and asks that God and Christ might be glorified in the church (vv. 20-21).
What kind of might is it that the author beseeches God to give the readers? The first sentence declares the universal significance of God, the Parent of humankind. Then the prayer reverses focus from the universal God to the inner life of the Christians and asks that readers be given strength and "power" through God's Spirit. The Greek is interesting and might be more literally translated "mightily strengthened" (dynamei krataiothavai). The verb "to strengthen" (in the passive) is combined with the noun "power." (The Greek word for "power" used throughout the reading is the source of our word, "dynamite.") This is an unusual power, however, for it comes as a result of our finding our roots in love. It is an inner might that is loving, not selfish.
The second part of the prayer (vv. 18-19) continues the petition for power, and again suggests a strange sort of might. It is a power that results in comprehension and knowledge. The author prays God will use the divine power in us to help us "comprehend" the whole of reality -- "the breadth and length and height and depth" (v. 18). This is to understand the totality of the context in which we live, that is, the whole universe. Moreover, the prayer entreats God to enable us to "know" what is beyond knowledge, namely Christ's love in all of its fullness. If we know that love, then the "fullness" of God -- that is the very heart of the Divine -- will saturate our lives.
The brief prayer concludes with a doxology which continues the theme of "power." God can produce results in us that are beyond what we could ever clearly "imagine"-- much less request of God. God gives us more than we know we want. If this prayer is granted, then God will be glorified. It is worth noting that while the prayer has spoken of "inner being" and "heart" (vv. 16-17), the prayer is for the community, the "church," and not strictly for individuals. This suggests that God's power and might come to us through the community of faith of which we are a part.
What a radically different kind of might. Earlier we spoke of the "inner power" of character, but that label hardly seems adequate to describe a might that roots in love, brings knowledge and comprehension of the essence of what's real, and finally fills us with the soul of God. This is the might to live in faithfulness with our Creator and to embody the divine care and compassion revealed in Christ. Indeed, it is a might that stands over against worldly conceptions of power -- even the strength of character -- and transcends any physical or social or political influence. Can we Christians think of ourselves as mighty people in Christ? Can we embody for the world a strength and power that is beyond all that we may value in our culture? The Second Lesson promises that in Christ this is precisely the might God gives us.
John 6:1-21
Last Sunday we saw how Christ showed us that human care and compassion constitute God's home in our midst. Now this Sunday the theme of power is completed in Christ's wondrous deeds of love. This Sunday also begins a series of five Propers in which the Gospel reading is from John 6. Preachers need to ready themselves for this extended concentration on one chapter. We begin the series of five lessons with the Johannine accounts of the feeding of the multitude (vv. 1-15) and his walking on water (vv. 16-21). In both cases, the mighty Christ expresses the divine power that is his for the sake of human life.
The story of the feeding of the multitude is both similar and dissimilar to those recorded in the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew 14:13-21 -- the Gospel Lesson for Proper 13, Year A -- Mark 6:32-44 and 8:1-10 and Luke 9:10-17) and like Mark and Matthew ties the feeding with Jesus' wonder of walking on the sea. The details of those comparisons need not concern us except as John's unique features may betray a specific interpretation of the two wonder stories.
The lesson begins with a reference to Jesus' "signs" and how they attracted a crowd. The feeding is called a "sign" in verse 14, and by implication the sea-walk is also a sign. In the fourth Gospel, Jesus' wondrous acts are sometimes called "signs" (semiea), which reveal Jesus' identity and evoke faith (e.g., 2:11), but sometimes attract people for the wrong reason (see 6:26 and 4:48). The narrator prepares us to understand the next two stories as acts by which Jesus demonstrates who he is and also inserts a note that "the Passover ... was near" (v. 4). Mention of three Passovers provides a structure for John's story of Jesus (see 2:13 and 12:1) and suggests that God's revelation in Christ constitutes a new Passover.
Jesus poses the problem of feeding the crowd to Philip, although he knows exactly what he is going to do. The question and Philip's response accentuate the marvel that is about to occur. The fourth Gospel alone includes the detail about the boy and his lunch, which gives the insignificant child a place in this mighty deed. "Barley loaves" were the cheapest bread one could buy (see 2 Kings 4:42-44). Jesus gives "thanks" for both the bread and fish, and then he himself distributes them among the people. These last two features of the story, combined with the Passover dating, have led many interpreters to see indications of the Eucharist (the word coming from Greek word for thanks, eucharisteo), leading some to think even that this story is John's account of the institution of the Lord's Supper. (Nowhere else in the fourth Gospel does Jesus establish the Sacrament.) The crowd's hunger is "satisfied" (v. 12), and the fragments filled twelve baskets. The number twelve may simply emphasize the wonder of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes, or it may be symbolic of the remnant of Israel who comprise the church. (The inner circle of the twelves disciples plays a minor role in John and are mentioned only once in 6:67.)
The crowd is impressed by Jesus' marvelous deed, and now they are determined to make Jesus their king. However, he escapes to a mountain alone, even though, ironically, the Gospel of John stresses that Jesus is king (e.g., 18:33-37). The reason for the disciples' embarking on a trip across the lake is not stated. However, we may assume that they think Jesus is on the other side, and they seek to join him. They join him all right, but not as a result of their seeking but of Jesus' coming to them. Their situation was dire, for it was dark and the sea was rough. Jesus came to them amid their distress, and does so by walking on the water.
His marvelous appearance, however, simply terrifies the disciples all the more. Jesus identifies himself and assures them that with him present there is nothing to fear. His self-identification is an instance of the "I am" (ego eimi) sayings in John. Literally the phrase means simply, "I am," but stated in an emphatic way, so that one scholar translates it, "I myself am." Since the personal pronoun is indicated in the form of the verb, there is no reason to state it (in this case, ego) unless some special emphasis is intended. Moreover, there is no predicate for the verb, and English translations tend to supply one, in this case "It is I" (v. 20). Many believe that the absolute "I am" without a predicate on the lips of Jesus suggests his identity with God, whose name is "I am who I am" (Exodus 3:13-14).
Assured that it is their Lord coming across the surface of the water to them, the disciples are then eager to have him aboard, but the boat is suddenly ashore at the disciples' destination. Wonders pile up on top of one another. Jesus feeds the multitude, walks on the water, and then the boat mysteriously lands. What kind of might is this? What sort of power is at work in this Jesus?
On one level, the wonders stuffed into this one lesson all address human need. The crowd is hungry; the disciples are frightened, and not yet at their destination. Jesus' might is given over to fulfilling human needs, much as his compassion is directed toward the same end.
However, something more is going on in this lesson. Jesus' power is not strictly his own, as he tells us again and again in John (e.g., 5:17-21), but God's power. Even as Jesus is the great "I am," so his power manifests God and glorifies God and not just himself. Ultimately, of course, Jesus' power and might are not intended to blow us away with his unique status and so compel us to believe he is the revelation of God. The might Jesus reveals is the power to bring people into relationship with their God, to build a bridge between humans and God, and to construct a new human identity as children of God (see 1:12).
So, the Second Lesson has it exactly right, namely, that God bestows mighty power on us through Christ. The most important power is one that overcomes the distance and alienation between us and our Creator and creates a new relationship of love. David had to learn that the might he had as king was not the essence of his royal role but his faithfulness to the God who had called him. In Christ, the power to make us new, to change our identities, and to fill us with love becomes ours. That's the promise of the gospel and our hope amid a world that values other kinds of might. In spite of physical weakness and social and political impotency, we have a power that can turn the world upside down.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
2 Samuel 11:1-15
In all likelihood, our text for the morning comes to us from an eyewitness in the court of King David of Judah. And he is a master storyteller. He himself interjects no judgments into his biography. He simply tells what happened. But by the way he gives his account, the characters of both David and Uriah are vividly portrayed to us. Our biographer tells the truth, even about a king -- an unprecedented procedure in the ancient Near East. But it is the truth which reveals most deeply.
In the opening sentence we are told that it is the spring of the year when kings go forth to battle. But that is vividly contrasted with the last sentence in verse 1: "David remained at Jerusalem." We thereby are given the notice that what follows in the story is not what a king worth his salt would do. Nevertheless, what follows are the actions of the Lord's anointed, the Lord's mashiach, the forerunner of the Messiah.
Details in the text carefully note the provisions of Israel's covenant law. First, in verse 4, we are told that Bathsheba is purifying herself from her uncleaness, according to the law of Leviticus 15:19-24. That is, she has completed her menstrual cycle and is probably near the end of the seven days of purification. Thus, she is entering her time of fertility, when she could conceive. How realistic is the Old Testament!
Second, Uriah is revealed to us as an absolutely upright man. When David summons him home on false pretense from the battle with the Ammonites, Uriah refuses to obey David's seemingly kind instruction to rest overnight in his own house with his wife. Even when David gets Uriah drunk, Uriah will not go home, choosing instead to sleep with minimum shelter for two nights at the entrance of the palace, where the servants sleep. Why is Uriah so obdurate? Because he is faithfully obeying the law of Israel.
In the battles of the Israelites with their enemies, from the time of the Judges on into the time of David, Israel's wars were conducted according to strict cultic rules. Before the troops went into battle, they consecrated themselves to the Lord, taking vows that set them apart from the normal routines of everyday life. And one of those vows was to abstain from normal sexual relations (cf. 1 Samuel 21:4-5), because they were dedicating themselves totally to God. In his reply to David in verse 11, Uriah therefore points out that the other warriors are camped out at the battle site, with the ark symbolizing the presence of God in their midst. He has consecrated himself as a warrior to the Lord, and he swears by an oath to David that he will not violate that consecration by going home to his wife. In contrast to David's scheming perfidy, Uriah is an upright and honest man, one to be admired for his dedication. He will obey his king, but not at the price of disobeying his Lord. So he remains an extra day with David, but does not violate his vow to God.
David, however, has committed adultery, in violation of the seventh commandment in the Decalogue, which David has sworn to uphold. Bathsheba carries the child in her womb that will reveal that sin, and David will go to any lengths to cover up his own wrong-doing. He therefore orders his commander Joab to place the upright Uriah in the first ranks of a battle, and then when the enemy attacks, to draw back the other men beside Uriah, so that the husband of Bathsheba will be killed. "You shall not kill. You shall not commit adultery. You shall not steal. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor ... You shall not covet your neighbor's wife" (Exodus 20:13-16, 17). Because of his lust for the beautiful Bathsheba, David, the anointed of the Lord, breaks every one of those basic commandments of the covenant with God.
"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive." David thinks to hide his sin from others -- and how familiar such deception is to us in our time and society! But we never can hide our sin from God. And neither can David, even though he is a mighty king with all the privileges of his office. David has set a course that will lead in the rest of his story to tragedy. God is on the scene, as he is on ours. Let those who have ears to hear, hear.
Lutheran Option -- 2 Kings 4:42-44
Chapter 4 of 2 Kings is made up of four miracle stories about the acts of the "sons of the prophets," those early non-writing prophets in Israel in the ninth century B.C. who lived together in closed colonies, ministering to the people and proclaiming the Word of the Lord. Each of the four stories concerns the power of one of the prophets to give life where there is trouble or death. Our particular text records an act of the prophet Elisha, who was the successor to Elijah, and who was noted for his pastoral care of the people. But in these verses, Elisha's succor is given to the prophetic colony itself.
There is a famine in Gilgal (v. 38), a village north of Jericho, near the Jordan River, in central Palestine, where there is a large colony made up of 100 of the sons of the prophets and where Elisha is lodging at the time. A follower of the prophets comes some distance from another town to supply food to the hungry colony from the first harvest of his fruits and grain. But the twenty loaves of bread and the sack of grain are not sufficient to feed all of the men present. Elisha nevertheless commands that the men be fed with the gift. When his servant objects that there is not enough, Elisha replies that all will eat and that some food will be left over, for "thus says the Lord," a Word of God that indeed proves true.
The story immediately reminds us, of course, of Jesus feeding the 5,000 from five loaves and two fishes (Mark 6:35-44 and parallels). Such events reveal to us the power of God and strengthen our confidence in him. But perhaps most notable is the fact that God feeds the hungry. Ours is not an other-worldly religion that wishes to escape the trials and sufferings of this world, as do some mystical religions of the East like Hinduism. The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is primarily interested in this world, and he wishes abundant life for all people upon this earth. And so when the prophets and the Messiah come, they give drink to the thirsty and bread to the hungry, and we are commanded to do likewise. For, taught our Lord Jesus, inasmuch as we have done it unto one of the least among us, we have done it unto him. Love for our needy neighbors is love shown toward Jesus Christ. We often ask, "How do we love God?" We do so by lovingly ministering to the needs of our fellow human beings.
