Proper 16 | Ordinary Time 21
Preaching
Lectionary Preaching Workbook
Series VIII, Cycle B
Theme For The Day
The power God offers to believers is different from the world's idea of power.
Old Testament Lesson
1 Kings 8:(1, 6, 10-11) 22-30, 41-43
Solomon's Prayer Of Dedication For The Temple
The lectionary provides some optional verses to help set the context, but the heart of this week's selection is Solomon's prayer of dedication for the temple. It is well to remember the rich symbolism this structure has for the people of Israel. The Lord has prevented Solomon's father David from building such a structure, favoring in those early days the simple, rustic virtue of the tabernacle tent. Now, however, the Lord has relented: during this brief historical interlude when Israel is a political and commercial power in the region, Solomon's temple will be the nation's crowning religious and artistic achievement. Verses 10-11 indicate that, as the Ark is being brought into the new temple, the glory of the Lord fills the entire area, in the form of a dense cloud. In verse 22, Solomon begins his prayer of dedication. Clearly he is, at this moment, the cultic as well as the political leader of the nation. The king begins by recalling God's covenant with the people, and with the royal house of David, in particular. The Lord is a God of covenant (berith) and steadfast love (hesed). In verse 25, Solomon specifically calls to remembrance the Lord's promise never to let the house of David fail. Will this temple somehow contain the Lord? Of course not: "Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built!" (v. 27). The temple is not so much the place where the Lord dwells, as a listening post, a place where the faithful can come, knowing with certainty that their prayers will be heard (vv. 29-30). God's receptiveness is not limited to the faithful of Israel: even foreigners who come and pray in this house will be heard, to the end that "all the peoples of the earth may know your name and fear you" (vv. 41-43).
Alternate Old Testament Lesson
Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18
Joshua Leads The People In Renewing The Covenant
After the turmoil of the conquest of Canaan is over, when Joshua is "old and well advanced in years" (v. 23:1), he gathers the tribes of Israel together at Shechem, and leads them in a ritual of covenant renewal. Alone among the Israelites, Joshua remembers the full story of the people's unfaithfulness in the wilderness. Now, as he is looking ahead to the time following his own death, he wants to be sure that the people continue to observe the law, "turning aside from it neither to the right nor to the left" (v. 23:6), and not assuming the ways of the Canaanite peoples all around them (v. 23:7). In verse 24:2, Joshua begins a recitation of Israel's history that has some similarities to the famous recitation of the genealogy of Kunta Kinte in Alex Haley's novel, Roots -- and this one serves much the same purpose. It ends up with verse 13, with the reminder that the Lord has given them the land as a free and undeserved gift. The lectionary selection picks up again with verse 14, which begins the actual covenant-renewal. It is fruitful to focus on the verbs: the people are to revere and serve the Lord, and put away the old gods (reminiscent of Jacob's collection and burial of the idols in Genesis 35:2-4). "Revere" (yare) is sometimes translated "fear," but it means something closer to reverence to modern ears. In these times we have largely lost the sense of "fear" as meaning anything other than cringing terror. Joshua places a decision before them, as expressed in these famous words: "choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served in the region beyond the river or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living; but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord" (v. 15). Verses 16-18 are the people's unanimous and enthusiastic response to Joshua's challenge.
New Testament Lesson
Ephesians 6:10-20
Put On The Whole Armor Of God
With one great, concluding metaphor, the didactic section of Ephesians ends. "Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power" is the way this pericope begins -- a seeming tautology in English, though in fact three different Greek words are at work (v. 10). Dunamis, kratos, and ischus all appear in this verse, in that order. Physical strength, ruling authority, and the power of personality are a rough approximation of what these words mean. "The whole armor of God" is the controlling metaphor: in the cosmic struggle between good and evil, the followers of Christ are to arm themselves for what they must face. Evil's power is multifaceted: good must contend "against the rulers (archas), against the authorities (exousias), against the cosmic powers (kosmokratoras) of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil (pneumatika tes ponerias) in the heavenly places" (v. 12). The weaponry is comparable to what a typical Roman soldier would wear: a "belt of truth," a "breastplate of righteousness," for "shoes [an eagerness] to proclaim the gospel of peace," "the shield of faith," "the helmet of salvation," and "the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God" (vv. 14-17). Requests for prayers round out this passage -- prayers "for all the saints" as well as for the author -- who describes himself as "an ambassador in chains" (alluding, no doubt, to Paul's imprisonment).
The Gospel
John 6:56-69
True Believers
Overlapping with the last two verses of the previous week's lectionary selection, this passage begins with the thought that, "Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them ... the one who eats this bread will live forever" (vv. 56, 58). Many of the disciples object to this "difficult" teaching -- the difficulty consisting in the entire argument, not merely its concluding words (v. 60). The Johannine church evidently struggled mightily over eucharistic theology and over Christology. In verses 61-65, Jesus draws a distinction between true and false belief, and observes that those among the company "who do not believe" will not be saved (there is an oblique reference to Judas here -- referred to as "a devil" in v. 70 -- but others are evidently included as well). Many of the disciples become disheartened at these harsh words, and subsequently leave (v. 66). Jesus turns to the twelve and asks them if they, too, wish to go away. "Lord, to whom can we go?" asks Peter. "You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God" (vv. 68-69). Peter -- and by extension, the eleven -- goes on record here with a confession of absolute faith in Jesus: one that is every bit as pronounced as the one he uttered at Caesarea Philippi.
Preaching Possibilities
Here in Ephesians, chapter 6 we have a remarkable listing of different kinds of power. There are four principal words for power in the New Testament, and a single verse out of this chapter -- verse 10 -- contains three of them. "Finally," the letter says, "be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power." It's an awkward and repetitious sentence, and the reason for it is that these three different Greek words are at work, and the translators are hard pressed to convert them into English. The English language just doesn't offer the translators much to work with. Let's take a look at these words, and see what they mean.
First is dunamis, often translated "strength." (Here it's in a verbal form, which means "be strong.") The word dunamis is of course the basis of our English word, "dynamite"; also, our word "dynamic." A person who possesses dunamis -- who's truly dynamic -- is a strong person: much like Arnold Schwarzenegger back in his iron-pumping days. Dunamis is the power to accomplish things.
The second Greek word for power found in this verse is kratos, or ruling power. This word is found within our English word, "democracy." Demos means "people," so if it's teamed up with kratos, or rule, we get "rule by the people." Kratos is the sort of power Mr. Schwarzenegger exercises as California's governor. There's no simple, one-word English equivalent to kratos, so the NRSV translators take the easy way out and render it "strength" -- even though they've just used "strength" to translate dunamis, which has a different meaning. The precise meaning of kratos in the Greek, having to do with political rule, doesn't come through at all.
The third Greek word for power is ischus. This one is a bit harder to define. It's similar in some ways to kratos -- political rule -- but with more of a passive sense. Ischus is a quality belonging to a person who governs, that can be seen by others but not directly exercised. If you talked about an "aura of power," you'd be getting close -- or charisma, that quality newspaper reporters love to identify in certain politicians. When Ah-nold walks into a room filled with his fans and conversation abruptly stops, he's subtly exercising a kind of personal power -- and he's doing it without so much as flexing a bicep. You could call it the Schwarzenegger swagger.
We've said there's a fourth word for power in the Greek language -- and though it doesn't occur in this passage, it's worth mentioning anyway. The word is energeia, which most will quickly recognize as the root of our word "energy." In the New Testament, though, the word's used a little differently. Energeia is strictly reserved, in the Bible, for God's power. When the ancient Greeks speak of energy, they are talking about a mysterious, invisible power that can be traced back, somehow, to the gods themselves.
All this is to say that the little verse, "Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power," has a lot more going on inside it than may be apparent at first glance.
It's also a verse that speaks to most all of us, deep inside ourselves. Which one among us does not desire to be stronger? This is true not only with respect to physical strength -- the case of the proverbial "98-pound weakling" who gets sand kicked in his face at the beach, and heads off to the gym to pump himself up for the next encounter. Most of us also wish we had more inner strength -- the strength to persevere against difficult odds, the strength to tough it out, the strength to not only survive, but prosper.
Inside each one of us there dwells a small child; an insecure, uncertain child. That inner child still believes he or she is fundamentally weak and powerless. What that child wouldn't give for a little strength: physical strength, emotional strength (which we sometimes call "self-confidence"), strength that projects to others a sense of personal authority and importance!
That inner child is looking for a hero. It's that search for a strong, redemptive figure that fuels Hollywood's longstanding fascination with "action movies." The label "action," of course, on the video store shelf really means "violence." It's a euphemism, because the entertainment industry is too squeamish (or more likely, too clever) to use that word.
Action heroes are the living icons of a myth our society holds dear. It's a myth that biblical scholar, Walter Wink, and others have called "the myth of redemptive violence." Wink believes that for many, many people, violence is the real religion of our time. Violence -- or the threat of violence, in the form of shaking the proverbial "big stick" at our enemies -- is the only thing that saves us, in some people's view, from all that's evil in the world. Violence (which by its very nature brings destruction and death) is twisted completely around by this kind of thinking, in a diabolical way, until what is destructive actually comes to be seen as redemptive. It's like the famous comment of that American military officer in Vietnam: "We had to destroy the village in order to save it."
"This Myth of Redemptive Violence," Wink writes, "is the real myth of the modern world. It, and not Judaism or Christianity or Islam, is the dominant religion in our society today." (Walter Wink, The Powers That Be: Theology For a New Millennium [New York: Doubleday, 1999], p. 42)
If children (or even adults) nourish their spirits on a steady diet of so-called "action films," they may become brainwashed into believing this destructive myth. They will learn to see the world in stark, black-and-white, good-versus-evil terms. They will learn to locate evil outside themselves and to scapegoat anyone who's strange or different. In time they will come to accept as common knowledge the unthinking assumption that "might makes right" -- both on the individual level and on the international stage. They will come to see strength as embodied in the almost mythological figure of a man who slides down a rope out of a helicopter, firing an automatic weapon into a crowd of enemies.
So is this what the Letter to the Ephesians means by being "strong in the Lord," by putting on the whole armor of Christ? Hardly. What the writer's talking about here is no mere human strength, but rather the strength that flows forth from God's love and mercy. The most perfect example of this sort of strength is Jesus Christ. He rejected any thought of an action-hero style escape from the cross, instead submitting to its pain and its shame. We Christians believe it's the death of Jesus on the cross that's ultimately redemptive: not our own deployment of violence. Furthermore, we believe the strength he showed in sacrificially giving himself for the sins of the world is far superior to any merely human strength. As Christ says in 2 Corinthians: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9).
Prayer For The Day
Great God, we confess that we are often tempted to give in to feelings of doubt, to fears, to creeping insecurity. We present ourselves, now -- our whole self; strengths, weaknesses, fears and all -- before Jesus Christ. Open our eyes to discover in him power to overcome all our difficulties. Amen.
To Illustrate
In 1966, about a year before he died, J. Robert Oppenheimer -- brilliant physicist, co-inventor of the atom bomb -- confessed, "I am a complete failure!" Looking back on his life, Oppenheimer saw all his scientific achievements as meaningless. When someone pointed out his numerous discoveries, he replied, "They leave on the tongue only the taste of ashes."
Oppenheimer realized, late in life, that the fire he had brought into the world -- like some twentieth-century Prometheus -- could leave behind only ashes and destruction. That's the only thing that can come of bombs and missiles; of our crazy, headlong desire to seek wealth and power, and to protect it with military might; of our craving for more and more creature comforts, at the expense of the needy. Indeed, "the taste of ashes" is only thing that can come of any human enterprise that does not have God in it.
***
There's a scene in the film, Schindler's List, when Oskar Schindler, the factory owner who spirited so many Jews out of concentration camps, is arguing with the brutish Nazi commandant, trying to get him to release a group of prisoners to labor in Schindler's factory. The commandant is an inhuman monster: for entertainment, he sits at the window of his residence and randomly shoots Jewish prisoners with a high-powered rifle.
Still, Schindler seeks to reason with this barbarian, arguing that his sort of life-and-death authority is not real power. Real power, Schindler argues, is the power not to deal out death indiscriminately, but to hold back -- to restrain oneself. Real power is the power to forgive.
Schindler gets his contract laborers, and for a few days the commandant cleans up his act. He gets a sort of perverse satisfaction out of pardoning prisoners. But before long, brutality triumphs over reason, and he's back to his old tricks.
The commandant fails at forgiveness because to truly forgive others, you have to feel something for them -- sympathy, compassion, love. He doesn't feel a thing for Jews -- or perhaps for anyone (maybe not even for himself). Schindler, however, is the one who, throughout the film, steadily grows in his ability to exercise compassion.
***
Convicted Watergate conspirator, G. Gordon Liddy, once gave a lecture on a college campus in Missouri. Throughout the evening, Liddy -- who had just been released from prison -- harangued his audience with the idea that only force, brute strength, and an iron will could earn the respect of friends and foes in this "real world which is, in fact, a very tough neighborhood."
During the question-and-answer period, one of the college professors rose to speak. Rather timidly, he objected: "In our country, most people ... after all ... do base their ethics on ... the teachings of Jesus ... and this doesn't sound much like the teachings of Jesus."
Liddy is said to have glared for a moment, before taking in a deep breath, and bellowing: "Yeah -- and look what happened to Jesus. They crucified him." To him, the case was closed. The audience responded to his put-down with laughter and thunderous applause.
G. Gordon Liddy was absolutely right. Jesus stood before the terrible, destructive power of Rome in courageous, virtuous silence. And that power rose up and crushed him. To the likes of G. Gordon Liddy -- and Pontius Pilate, Caiaphas, and Herod -- that should have been the end of the story. But it wasn't the end. There was another power at work in the life -- and the death -- of Jesus of Nazareth.
That creative, life-giving power began its work in the cool silence of the tomb. That power worked much more rapidly, on that occasion, than it habitually does in our world. A mere three days later, life coursed through Jesus' veins again, and he rose up and walked. Ever since that day, the power of life has continued to contend with the power of death.
The power God offers to believers is different from the world's idea of power.
Old Testament Lesson
1 Kings 8:(1, 6, 10-11) 22-30, 41-43
Solomon's Prayer Of Dedication For The Temple
The lectionary provides some optional verses to help set the context, but the heart of this week's selection is Solomon's prayer of dedication for the temple. It is well to remember the rich symbolism this structure has for the people of Israel. The Lord has prevented Solomon's father David from building such a structure, favoring in those early days the simple, rustic virtue of the tabernacle tent. Now, however, the Lord has relented: during this brief historical interlude when Israel is a political and commercial power in the region, Solomon's temple will be the nation's crowning religious and artistic achievement. Verses 10-11 indicate that, as the Ark is being brought into the new temple, the glory of the Lord fills the entire area, in the form of a dense cloud. In verse 22, Solomon begins his prayer of dedication. Clearly he is, at this moment, the cultic as well as the political leader of the nation. The king begins by recalling God's covenant with the people, and with the royal house of David, in particular. The Lord is a God of covenant (berith) and steadfast love (hesed). In verse 25, Solomon specifically calls to remembrance the Lord's promise never to let the house of David fail. Will this temple somehow contain the Lord? Of course not: "Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built!" (v. 27). The temple is not so much the place where the Lord dwells, as a listening post, a place where the faithful can come, knowing with certainty that their prayers will be heard (vv. 29-30). God's receptiveness is not limited to the faithful of Israel: even foreigners who come and pray in this house will be heard, to the end that "all the peoples of the earth may know your name and fear you" (vv. 41-43).
Alternate Old Testament Lesson
Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18
Joshua Leads The People In Renewing The Covenant
After the turmoil of the conquest of Canaan is over, when Joshua is "old and well advanced in years" (v. 23:1), he gathers the tribes of Israel together at Shechem, and leads them in a ritual of covenant renewal. Alone among the Israelites, Joshua remembers the full story of the people's unfaithfulness in the wilderness. Now, as he is looking ahead to the time following his own death, he wants to be sure that the people continue to observe the law, "turning aside from it neither to the right nor to the left" (v. 23:6), and not assuming the ways of the Canaanite peoples all around them (v. 23:7). In verse 24:2, Joshua begins a recitation of Israel's history that has some similarities to the famous recitation of the genealogy of Kunta Kinte in Alex Haley's novel, Roots -- and this one serves much the same purpose. It ends up with verse 13, with the reminder that the Lord has given them the land as a free and undeserved gift. The lectionary selection picks up again with verse 14, which begins the actual covenant-renewal. It is fruitful to focus on the verbs: the people are to revere and serve the Lord, and put away the old gods (reminiscent of Jacob's collection and burial of the idols in Genesis 35:2-4). "Revere" (yare) is sometimes translated "fear," but it means something closer to reverence to modern ears. In these times we have largely lost the sense of "fear" as meaning anything other than cringing terror. Joshua places a decision before them, as expressed in these famous words: "choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served in the region beyond the river or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living; but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord" (v. 15). Verses 16-18 are the people's unanimous and enthusiastic response to Joshua's challenge.
New Testament Lesson
Ephesians 6:10-20
Put On The Whole Armor Of God
With one great, concluding metaphor, the didactic section of Ephesians ends. "Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power" is the way this pericope begins -- a seeming tautology in English, though in fact three different Greek words are at work (v. 10). Dunamis, kratos, and ischus all appear in this verse, in that order. Physical strength, ruling authority, and the power of personality are a rough approximation of what these words mean. "The whole armor of God" is the controlling metaphor: in the cosmic struggle between good and evil, the followers of Christ are to arm themselves for what they must face. Evil's power is multifaceted: good must contend "against the rulers (archas), against the authorities (exousias), against the cosmic powers (kosmokratoras) of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil (pneumatika tes ponerias) in the heavenly places" (v. 12). The weaponry is comparable to what a typical Roman soldier would wear: a "belt of truth," a "breastplate of righteousness," for "shoes [an eagerness] to proclaim the gospel of peace," "the shield of faith," "the helmet of salvation," and "the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God" (vv. 14-17). Requests for prayers round out this passage -- prayers "for all the saints" as well as for the author -- who describes himself as "an ambassador in chains" (alluding, no doubt, to Paul's imprisonment).
The Gospel
John 6:56-69
True Believers
Overlapping with the last two verses of the previous week's lectionary selection, this passage begins with the thought that, "Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them ... the one who eats this bread will live forever" (vv. 56, 58). Many of the disciples object to this "difficult" teaching -- the difficulty consisting in the entire argument, not merely its concluding words (v. 60). The Johannine church evidently struggled mightily over eucharistic theology and over Christology. In verses 61-65, Jesus draws a distinction between true and false belief, and observes that those among the company "who do not believe" will not be saved (there is an oblique reference to Judas here -- referred to as "a devil" in v. 70 -- but others are evidently included as well). Many of the disciples become disheartened at these harsh words, and subsequently leave (v. 66). Jesus turns to the twelve and asks them if they, too, wish to go away. "Lord, to whom can we go?" asks Peter. "You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God" (vv. 68-69). Peter -- and by extension, the eleven -- goes on record here with a confession of absolute faith in Jesus: one that is every bit as pronounced as the one he uttered at Caesarea Philippi.
Preaching Possibilities
Here in Ephesians, chapter 6 we have a remarkable listing of different kinds of power. There are four principal words for power in the New Testament, and a single verse out of this chapter -- verse 10 -- contains three of them. "Finally," the letter says, "be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power." It's an awkward and repetitious sentence, and the reason for it is that these three different Greek words are at work, and the translators are hard pressed to convert them into English. The English language just doesn't offer the translators much to work with. Let's take a look at these words, and see what they mean.
First is dunamis, often translated "strength." (Here it's in a verbal form, which means "be strong.") The word dunamis is of course the basis of our English word, "dynamite"; also, our word "dynamic." A person who possesses dunamis -- who's truly dynamic -- is a strong person: much like Arnold Schwarzenegger back in his iron-pumping days. Dunamis is the power to accomplish things.
The second Greek word for power found in this verse is kratos, or ruling power. This word is found within our English word, "democracy." Demos means "people," so if it's teamed up with kratos, or rule, we get "rule by the people." Kratos is the sort of power Mr. Schwarzenegger exercises as California's governor. There's no simple, one-word English equivalent to kratos, so the NRSV translators take the easy way out and render it "strength" -- even though they've just used "strength" to translate dunamis, which has a different meaning. The precise meaning of kratos in the Greek, having to do with political rule, doesn't come through at all.
The third Greek word for power is ischus. This one is a bit harder to define. It's similar in some ways to kratos -- political rule -- but with more of a passive sense. Ischus is a quality belonging to a person who governs, that can be seen by others but not directly exercised. If you talked about an "aura of power," you'd be getting close -- or charisma, that quality newspaper reporters love to identify in certain politicians. When Ah-nold walks into a room filled with his fans and conversation abruptly stops, he's subtly exercising a kind of personal power -- and he's doing it without so much as flexing a bicep. You could call it the Schwarzenegger swagger.
We've said there's a fourth word for power in the Greek language -- and though it doesn't occur in this passage, it's worth mentioning anyway. The word is energeia, which most will quickly recognize as the root of our word "energy." In the New Testament, though, the word's used a little differently. Energeia is strictly reserved, in the Bible, for God's power. When the ancient Greeks speak of energy, they are talking about a mysterious, invisible power that can be traced back, somehow, to the gods themselves.
All this is to say that the little verse, "Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power," has a lot more going on inside it than may be apparent at first glance.
It's also a verse that speaks to most all of us, deep inside ourselves. Which one among us does not desire to be stronger? This is true not only with respect to physical strength -- the case of the proverbial "98-pound weakling" who gets sand kicked in his face at the beach, and heads off to the gym to pump himself up for the next encounter. Most of us also wish we had more inner strength -- the strength to persevere against difficult odds, the strength to tough it out, the strength to not only survive, but prosper.
Inside each one of us there dwells a small child; an insecure, uncertain child. That inner child still believes he or she is fundamentally weak and powerless. What that child wouldn't give for a little strength: physical strength, emotional strength (which we sometimes call "self-confidence"), strength that projects to others a sense of personal authority and importance!
That inner child is looking for a hero. It's that search for a strong, redemptive figure that fuels Hollywood's longstanding fascination with "action movies." The label "action," of course, on the video store shelf really means "violence." It's a euphemism, because the entertainment industry is too squeamish (or more likely, too clever) to use that word.
Action heroes are the living icons of a myth our society holds dear. It's a myth that biblical scholar, Walter Wink, and others have called "the myth of redemptive violence." Wink believes that for many, many people, violence is the real religion of our time. Violence -- or the threat of violence, in the form of shaking the proverbial "big stick" at our enemies -- is the only thing that saves us, in some people's view, from all that's evil in the world. Violence (which by its very nature brings destruction and death) is twisted completely around by this kind of thinking, in a diabolical way, until what is destructive actually comes to be seen as redemptive. It's like the famous comment of that American military officer in Vietnam: "We had to destroy the village in order to save it."
"This Myth of Redemptive Violence," Wink writes, "is the real myth of the modern world. It, and not Judaism or Christianity or Islam, is the dominant religion in our society today." (Walter Wink, The Powers That Be: Theology For a New Millennium [New York: Doubleday, 1999], p. 42)
If children (or even adults) nourish their spirits on a steady diet of so-called "action films," they may become brainwashed into believing this destructive myth. They will learn to see the world in stark, black-and-white, good-versus-evil terms. They will learn to locate evil outside themselves and to scapegoat anyone who's strange or different. In time they will come to accept as common knowledge the unthinking assumption that "might makes right" -- both on the individual level and on the international stage. They will come to see strength as embodied in the almost mythological figure of a man who slides down a rope out of a helicopter, firing an automatic weapon into a crowd of enemies.
So is this what the Letter to the Ephesians means by being "strong in the Lord," by putting on the whole armor of Christ? Hardly. What the writer's talking about here is no mere human strength, but rather the strength that flows forth from God's love and mercy. The most perfect example of this sort of strength is Jesus Christ. He rejected any thought of an action-hero style escape from the cross, instead submitting to its pain and its shame. We Christians believe it's the death of Jesus on the cross that's ultimately redemptive: not our own deployment of violence. Furthermore, we believe the strength he showed in sacrificially giving himself for the sins of the world is far superior to any merely human strength. As Christ says in 2 Corinthians: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9).
Prayer For The Day
Great God, we confess that we are often tempted to give in to feelings of doubt, to fears, to creeping insecurity. We present ourselves, now -- our whole self; strengths, weaknesses, fears and all -- before Jesus Christ. Open our eyes to discover in him power to overcome all our difficulties. Amen.
To Illustrate
In 1966, about a year before he died, J. Robert Oppenheimer -- brilliant physicist, co-inventor of the atom bomb -- confessed, "I am a complete failure!" Looking back on his life, Oppenheimer saw all his scientific achievements as meaningless. When someone pointed out his numerous discoveries, he replied, "They leave on the tongue only the taste of ashes."
Oppenheimer realized, late in life, that the fire he had brought into the world -- like some twentieth-century Prometheus -- could leave behind only ashes and destruction. That's the only thing that can come of bombs and missiles; of our crazy, headlong desire to seek wealth and power, and to protect it with military might; of our craving for more and more creature comforts, at the expense of the needy. Indeed, "the taste of ashes" is only thing that can come of any human enterprise that does not have God in it.
***
There's a scene in the film, Schindler's List, when Oskar Schindler, the factory owner who spirited so many Jews out of concentration camps, is arguing with the brutish Nazi commandant, trying to get him to release a group of prisoners to labor in Schindler's factory. The commandant is an inhuman monster: for entertainment, he sits at the window of his residence and randomly shoots Jewish prisoners with a high-powered rifle.
Still, Schindler seeks to reason with this barbarian, arguing that his sort of life-and-death authority is not real power. Real power, Schindler argues, is the power not to deal out death indiscriminately, but to hold back -- to restrain oneself. Real power is the power to forgive.
Schindler gets his contract laborers, and for a few days the commandant cleans up his act. He gets a sort of perverse satisfaction out of pardoning prisoners. But before long, brutality triumphs over reason, and he's back to his old tricks.
The commandant fails at forgiveness because to truly forgive others, you have to feel something for them -- sympathy, compassion, love. He doesn't feel a thing for Jews -- or perhaps for anyone (maybe not even for himself). Schindler, however, is the one who, throughout the film, steadily grows in his ability to exercise compassion.
***
Convicted Watergate conspirator, G. Gordon Liddy, once gave a lecture on a college campus in Missouri. Throughout the evening, Liddy -- who had just been released from prison -- harangued his audience with the idea that only force, brute strength, and an iron will could earn the respect of friends and foes in this "real world which is, in fact, a very tough neighborhood."
During the question-and-answer period, one of the college professors rose to speak. Rather timidly, he objected: "In our country, most people ... after all ... do base their ethics on ... the teachings of Jesus ... and this doesn't sound much like the teachings of Jesus."
Liddy is said to have glared for a moment, before taking in a deep breath, and bellowing: "Yeah -- and look what happened to Jesus. They crucified him." To him, the case was closed. The audience responded to his put-down with laughter and thunderous applause.
G. Gordon Liddy was absolutely right. Jesus stood before the terrible, destructive power of Rome in courageous, virtuous silence. And that power rose up and crushed him. To the likes of G. Gordon Liddy -- and Pontius Pilate, Caiaphas, and Herod -- that should have been the end of the story. But it wasn't the end. There was another power at work in the life -- and the death -- of Jesus of Nazareth.
That creative, life-giving power began its work in the cool silence of the tomb. That power worked much more rapidly, on that occasion, than it habitually does in our world. A mere three days later, life coursed through Jesus' veins again, and he rose up and walked. Ever since that day, the power of life has continued to contend with the power of death.
