Victory in spite of
Commentary
Object:
Each one of this week's scriptures can be viewed as victory as God's will is done, yet these stories are also paired with sadness, defeat, disability, and/or pain. As I like to put it, no one rides free.
David fulfills his destiny from the time he was anointed king as a boy, but his friend Jonathan is dead, and a price has been paid. Paul rises to the third heaven and though he is reluctant to brag about it, his ecstatic experience is paired with an affliction which despite his prayers he is not healed from. Jesus commissions his disciples who cast out evil spirit and anointed many with healing, but his ministry to his hometown was a total failure.
Do we triumph because of our disappointments, failures, and disabilities, or despite them? David is king, Paul's joy buoys his ministry, and Jesus is fulfilling the work of the kingdom as God wills, but there is true sadness and heartache standing behind each story. That indeed is part of what Paul himself is suggesting when he says that God's strength is proven through his weakness!
How can congregations be challenged to acknowledge pain as an integral part of growth and failure as providing the seeds for future success? Any one of these texts might be mined on this basis, yet weaving them together might prove the point even more strongly!
2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10
It would have been nice to draw a straight line from the moment when Samuel anointed this youngest son Jesse to this moment when David is finally king of a united kingdom, but think of all that lies between these two dots -- Goliath, Saul's jealousy, battles with enemies from without and within, and the loss of his dear friend Jonathan as part of the collateral damage. The path we tread as disciples, even when we are following God's will, is not always straight. It winds around or even slams through obstacles.
"No pain, no gain" is the blithe response of some, but we are not speaking of the temporary discomfort that goes with a self-improvement exercise program, the sort of pain we choose willingly in order to achieve a goal. Both triumphs and tragedies involve real anguish, fear, and desperation. They are not the sort of thing anyone would choose willingly, but they are the sorts of events that litter every life -- death and loss. David's reign as king will be strengthened or weakened accordingly.
This text suggests that while it is God's will that David rule as king, it does not come to pass at least in part until the people recognize God's will in his ascension to the throne. In some traditions we speak of congregations extending a call to ministry, and individuals receiving such a call. How does your congregation go about calling people to positions of responsibility? And are they actually able to assume those positions or do they face turf battles like David?
2 Corinthians 12:2-10
One might spend some time discussing just what affliction Paul dealt with, but I'm not sure it matters. (Personally, I think Paul developed vision problems while traveling through the country of the Celts [Galats in Latin] in Galatia, who took him in and helped partially restore his vision -- remember where Paul tells them they would have given their own eyes to him? -- but that's no never mind). What matters is the way Paul pairs a profound spiritual experience -- his ascent into third heaven -- with God's reply to his earnest prayers for healing that God's strength will be enough for the apostle and that God's strength is further revealed through humanity's weakness.
Paul is addressing critics who are claiming that their visions set them apart so that their version of the gospel must be superior to those who don't share in these visions. Certainly in Christendom there are those who claim, by virtue of a particular spiritual experience, superiority over the experiences of other Christians. Perhaps they seem to carve out a special niche for more "worthy" Christians. Paul counters by suggesting it is not his triumph but his trial that qualifies him for ministry. Leading up to this passage he demonstrates that if anyone wants to boast, he can trump them all, and concludes in this passage that his spiritual experiences, which he has not mentioned to them until now, trump theirs. The first Christians and their Jewish cousins would have been familiar with similar stories of trips to and through the layers of heaven in books like Enoch. Although some among Christians and Jews spoke of seven heavens, many, like Paul, spoke of three, and Paul is suggesting that at one time he has an intense spiritual experience that took him to heaven's deepest realm. As happens in these revelations there are some things that are seen that cannot be shared, but Paul's not that interested in describing heaven anyway.
He is assuring us that it is our afflictions -- his affliction for instance -- that validate the gospel. Our weakness reveals God's strength. David's rough road to kingship, the rejection of Jesus by his hometown and ultimately his betrayal by a friend and his rejection in Jerusalem, are part of what define them and us. "Therefore," he writes, "I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong” (12:10).
A short addendum: This whole layers in heaven thing may disturb some people. We're used to equality in all things and are jealous if someone gets something we don't. It seems to me that when we do get the same thing, we nevertheless experience it differently. Listening to different people describe a visit to the same national park can be illuminating. I like what the poet Dante does in his “Paradiso,” his poem about a trip through heaven. He travels meeting people who are in lower and higher circles of heaven, but in his final vision he realizes they are really in the same place, in a great stadium-like structure he calls the Rose, in which everyone is pointed toward God. Each is experiencing the joys of heaven to their full capacity, they're all in the same place, yet it's very different for each one.
Mark 6:1-6, 13
This is the third of three stories in Mark in which Jesus encounters resistance at a local house of worship, but this last controversy, in his own hometown of Nazareth, is especially bitter. It comes following a demonstration of the power of Jesus over both illness (the woman with a flow of blood) and death (Jairus' daughter). The region is abuzz with news about Jesus and astonishment at his actions as well as his words.
Yet in his hometown people move from astonishment to disbelief, asking a series of five questions that distance them from wonder, attempting to reduce Jesus to whoever he was when he lived among them. They first question the source of his power and finally consign him to his place as a member of a family within a tight social system.
Whereas the belief of the woman with the flow of blood in the previous chapter drew healing forcefully from within Jesus -- remember his remarks when he realizes that someone has touched the hem of his garment -- he is only able to heal a few people. This is a stark reminder that we are called to be partners in healing. Healing does happen to us. It occurs with us.
What comes in the wake of this extraordinary rejection? Ordinary time -- not the lectionary term for the long period between Easter season and Advent, but the ordinary time we live in. Mark 6:6b probably represents the longest period of time described in any of the gospel stories except the years of growing up and adulthood that are passed over entirely -- "Then he went about among the villages teaching." That's where most of us spend most of our time -- doing the daily work of the gospel, living the good news, being found at our post. One response to the disappointments and travails that accompany every life is to simply be about our duty.
But a specific triumph follows. Jesus commissions his apostles and sends them out like itinerant preachers, dependent on the good will of others. And they do great things. Great things follow in the wake of great difficulties, if we are prepared to let them happen.
Perhaps because of his own immediate experience with rejection, Jesus in his commissioning tells the apostles that if there are those who are not willing to accept the healing ministry of the good news that they are to move on. You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot -- I think you know the rest.
David fulfills his destiny from the time he was anointed king as a boy, but his friend Jonathan is dead, and a price has been paid. Paul rises to the third heaven and though he is reluctant to brag about it, his ecstatic experience is paired with an affliction which despite his prayers he is not healed from. Jesus commissions his disciples who cast out evil spirit and anointed many with healing, but his ministry to his hometown was a total failure.
Do we triumph because of our disappointments, failures, and disabilities, or despite them? David is king, Paul's joy buoys his ministry, and Jesus is fulfilling the work of the kingdom as God wills, but there is true sadness and heartache standing behind each story. That indeed is part of what Paul himself is suggesting when he says that God's strength is proven through his weakness!
How can congregations be challenged to acknowledge pain as an integral part of growth and failure as providing the seeds for future success? Any one of these texts might be mined on this basis, yet weaving them together might prove the point even more strongly!
2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10
It would have been nice to draw a straight line from the moment when Samuel anointed this youngest son Jesse to this moment when David is finally king of a united kingdom, but think of all that lies between these two dots -- Goliath, Saul's jealousy, battles with enemies from without and within, and the loss of his dear friend Jonathan as part of the collateral damage. The path we tread as disciples, even when we are following God's will, is not always straight. It winds around or even slams through obstacles.
"No pain, no gain" is the blithe response of some, but we are not speaking of the temporary discomfort that goes with a self-improvement exercise program, the sort of pain we choose willingly in order to achieve a goal. Both triumphs and tragedies involve real anguish, fear, and desperation. They are not the sort of thing anyone would choose willingly, but they are the sorts of events that litter every life -- death and loss. David's reign as king will be strengthened or weakened accordingly.
This text suggests that while it is God's will that David rule as king, it does not come to pass at least in part until the people recognize God's will in his ascension to the throne. In some traditions we speak of congregations extending a call to ministry, and individuals receiving such a call. How does your congregation go about calling people to positions of responsibility? And are they actually able to assume those positions or do they face turf battles like David?
2 Corinthians 12:2-10
One might spend some time discussing just what affliction Paul dealt with, but I'm not sure it matters. (Personally, I think Paul developed vision problems while traveling through the country of the Celts [Galats in Latin] in Galatia, who took him in and helped partially restore his vision -- remember where Paul tells them they would have given their own eyes to him? -- but that's no never mind). What matters is the way Paul pairs a profound spiritual experience -- his ascent into third heaven -- with God's reply to his earnest prayers for healing that God's strength will be enough for the apostle and that God's strength is further revealed through humanity's weakness.
Paul is addressing critics who are claiming that their visions set them apart so that their version of the gospel must be superior to those who don't share in these visions. Certainly in Christendom there are those who claim, by virtue of a particular spiritual experience, superiority over the experiences of other Christians. Perhaps they seem to carve out a special niche for more "worthy" Christians. Paul counters by suggesting it is not his triumph but his trial that qualifies him for ministry. Leading up to this passage he demonstrates that if anyone wants to boast, he can trump them all, and concludes in this passage that his spiritual experiences, which he has not mentioned to them until now, trump theirs. The first Christians and their Jewish cousins would have been familiar with similar stories of trips to and through the layers of heaven in books like Enoch. Although some among Christians and Jews spoke of seven heavens, many, like Paul, spoke of three, and Paul is suggesting that at one time he has an intense spiritual experience that took him to heaven's deepest realm. As happens in these revelations there are some things that are seen that cannot be shared, but Paul's not that interested in describing heaven anyway.
He is assuring us that it is our afflictions -- his affliction for instance -- that validate the gospel. Our weakness reveals God's strength. David's rough road to kingship, the rejection of Jesus by his hometown and ultimately his betrayal by a friend and his rejection in Jerusalem, are part of what define them and us. "Therefore," he writes, "I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong” (12:10).
A short addendum: This whole layers in heaven thing may disturb some people. We're used to equality in all things and are jealous if someone gets something we don't. It seems to me that when we do get the same thing, we nevertheless experience it differently. Listening to different people describe a visit to the same national park can be illuminating. I like what the poet Dante does in his “Paradiso,” his poem about a trip through heaven. He travels meeting people who are in lower and higher circles of heaven, but in his final vision he realizes they are really in the same place, in a great stadium-like structure he calls the Rose, in which everyone is pointed toward God. Each is experiencing the joys of heaven to their full capacity, they're all in the same place, yet it's very different for each one.
Mark 6:1-6, 13
This is the third of three stories in Mark in which Jesus encounters resistance at a local house of worship, but this last controversy, in his own hometown of Nazareth, is especially bitter. It comes following a demonstration of the power of Jesus over both illness (the woman with a flow of blood) and death (Jairus' daughter). The region is abuzz with news about Jesus and astonishment at his actions as well as his words.
Yet in his hometown people move from astonishment to disbelief, asking a series of five questions that distance them from wonder, attempting to reduce Jesus to whoever he was when he lived among them. They first question the source of his power and finally consign him to his place as a member of a family within a tight social system.
Whereas the belief of the woman with the flow of blood in the previous chapter drew healing forcefully from within Jesus -- remember his remarks when he realizes that someone has touched the hem of his garment -- he is only able to heal a few people. This is a stark reminder that we are called to be partners in healing. Healing does happen to us. It occurs with us.
What comes in the wake of this extraordinary rejection? Ordinary time -- not the lectionary term for the long period between Easter season and Advent, but the ordinary time we live in. Mark 6:6b probably represents the longest period of time described in any of the gospel stories except the years of growing up and adulthood that are passed over entirely -- "Then he went about among the villages teaching." That's where most of us spend most of our time -- doing the daily work of the gospel, living the good news, being found at our post. One response to the disappointments and travails that accompany every life is to simply be about our duty.
But a specific triumph follows. Jesus commissions his apostles and sends them out like itinerant preachers, dependent on the good will of others. And they do great things. Great things follow in the wake of great difficulties, if we are prepared to let them happen.
Perhaps because of his own immediate experience with rejection, Jesus in his commissioning tells the apostles that if there are those who are not willing to accept the healing ministry of the good news that they are to move on. You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot -- I think you know the rest.
