The Man With The Power
Stories
Object:
Contents
"The Man with the Power" by Keith Hewitt
"A Moral Compass" by John Fitzgerald
* * * * * * *
The Man with the Power
by Keith Hewitt
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Lucius inched back on his curule, trying to find a comfortable position, but the sad and simple truth was that after spending the better part of his morning sitting under the bright sun there was no comfortable position. His legs tingled, practically burned, with desire to move and were stilled only by discipline; his back ached from having to hold his old bones rigidly upright. It would not do to slump before the natives... he could almost hear his father whispering in his ear, and the corners of his mouth turned down.
The centurion in charge of the morning's proceedings saw the change in expression, interpreted it incorrectly as displeasure, reacted reflexively by cuffing the next prisoner as he was escorted in. The prisoner -- a skinny little man -- staggered exaggeratedly at the blow, barely managed to stay standing as the soldiers who flanked him stopped front and center in front of Lucius.
"Benjamin, a Galileean," the noncom announced crisply and stopped as though nothing else needed to be said.
Truth be told, it was enough... but one had to respect the niceties. "His crime?"
"Treason, sedition, incitement to riot, and generally being a thorn in my side."
Lucius, who had been listening but not paying attention, stumbled mentally at the last charge and looked up quickly, catching the centurion's eye. The old soldier shrugged and smiled crookedly. "I added that last one m'self, sir. This one's been trying to convert my men."
Lucius sighed and shook his head. Really, these religious fanatics knew no bounds. "Is that true, prisoner?" he asked sharply, turning his attention to the native, shifting from Latin to Aramaic. He disliked doing so -- the language was crude, and he felt like he was making meaningless baby-talk with one of his grandchildren, but it was the only way most of the rabble would speak. In the old days, on principle, he had refused to learn the native tongue -- but these were a stiff-necked bunch.
This one, who had looked from man to man as they spoke, clearly without understanding, just shrugged. "Is what true?"
"My centurion says you've been trying to convert his troops. Is that true?"
"Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ came to deliver all men, Excellency. Even Romans."
Lucius glanced sharply at the centurion to see if he had caught the answer, but he clearly had not -- a judgment confirmed by the lack of a truncheon to the head or to the knees, which would have been the expected response to such impertinence. Turning back to the prisoner, then, he said mildly, "Brave words, from a man in chains."
The prisoner held up his shackled hands, palms out, in an inviting gesture. "No bravery or disrespect was intended, Excellency. I said what I did in all humility. It is the simple truth. Jesus Christ did come to deliver all men, for all men are sinners."
Jupiter, when would this end? How many more would he need to see before this was snuffed out? Lucius wondered, studying the prisoner. Though slight of build, and obviously somewhat battered -- though no more so than you would expect a traitor to be, after being in custody for two days -- he managed to hold himself up straight, and to look Lucius in the eye when he spoke. It was discomfiting.
After a long silence, Lucius shifted again and leaned forward. "This Jesus you speak of -- you and your kind. You do mean the Galilean who was executed in Jerusalem, do you not? The Nazarene?" It was not a guess -- he had interviewed many of these Christ-followers before, gleaning more than he really wanted to know from their ramblings about this man. He had even talked to an officer, once -- part of the Sixth Legion, barracked in Jerusalem -- who had been there when the troublesome Jew was executed. The rebel had died a miserable death, alone. He was of no consequence in life, remembered only for the trouble he seemed to cause in death... remarkable, considering how feckless his followers had been when he was arrested.
"That is who I speak of," the prisoner confirmed, casting a quick glance skyward.
"Then tell me this. That man died, broken and bleeding, crying out for his family, who were nowhere to be found that day. How could such a broken man be a savior of anyone, let alone his betters?"
There was another long silence before the little man stirred and said, "You misunderstand, Excellency. Jesus' death shows strength, not weakness. He was not powerless that day -- far from it."
"If there is a man on a cross, and a man who put him there -- the man who put him there is the one with the power. It is obvious."
"Is it?" The prisoner smiled gently, then, and Lucius frowned. The man was obviously mad. Lucius shook his head, raised one hand to gesture toward the scribe, who was recording the sentences that morning. Before he could speak, though, the prisoner continued, "If there is a man on a cross, and a man who put him there -- but the man on the cross chose to be there -- who really showed their power?"
"Only a mad man would choose the cross," Lucius said abruptly, involuntarily recalling the many such deaths he had seen. Even though he had put many of them there himself, there was a part of him that cringed. "You speak nonsense, clothed in mystery."
"There is no mystery, Excellency. It is all about will. Humankind has free will, the will to choose to follow God or to follow their base instincts, which lead away from God. Now, through his mighty power, God could force men to follow him... but only by violating the free will he gave them in the first place, so what would be the point? The alternative is to lead us to choose to follow him. Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, chose to die so that the price for our sin could be paid... and to show us that it is possible to choose the way of the servant, the way of sacrifice. That dying for what is right, in the face of accepting what is wrong, is not powerlessness -- it's the ultimate power."
Lucius leaned forward again, inching forward on his curule. "So is that your choice, then, prisoner?"
The prisoner spread his hands again. "I stand before you, for the crime of preaching the good news to my neighbors. If my choice is to stand silent, and deny Jesus, or to die for the privilege of speaking about him... then I choose death." He shrugged, causing his chains to clink. "What else can I choose?"
Lucius sighed and nodded toward the scribe, who began writing again. "Probably nothing. A mad man cannot choose not to be mad."
The prisoner smiled again, a fleeting expression. "And a saved man cannot choose to be unsaved. Thank you, Excellency."
Lucius said nothing in return, just waved his hand to have him dragged off... the man's answer had unnerved him, somehow. Nothing about these people made sense, and the more of them they killed, the more there seemed to be. Even so, he had no doubt that Rome would win in the end.
Lucius watched as the man was half-dragged out of the courtyard, still mulling over their brief discussion... and just before the prisoner was taken out of view, Lucius noted with surprise that it must be much later in the morning than he thought... for the prisoner cast a long, long shadow.
Keith Hewitt is the author of three volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a local pastor, former youth leader and Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He is currently serving as the pastor at Parkview UMC in Turtle Lake, Wisconsin. Keith is married to a teacher, and they have two children and assorted dogs and cats.
A Moral Compass
by John Fitzgerald
Matthew 5:1-12
Bill Murray starred in the 1993 film called Groundhog Day that featured a weatherman who repeated one day over and over again. We think about this theme on February 2. It does seem like life can go around in circles without breaking out of established traditions. The church in particular can be hidebound by teachings instituted centuries ago. Someone once said the seven last words of a church are: We have never done it this way before.
Tradition is good, but not if it limits us to the new acts God is performing. A better approach is building upon the old patterns and adding new approaches to fit present circumstances. This is what our Lord taught in the parable found in Matthew 13:52: Jesus said, "Therefore every teacher of the law who has been instructed about the kingdom of heaven is like the owner of a house who brings out of his storeroom new treasurers as well as old."
According to the master teacher, those who instruct about God's kingdom must share insights from both old and new ways of looking at things. It is not an easy task to combine religious heritage with a modern approach to faith. Just ask those of us who serve in mainline Protestant churches. I am a Friends pastor serving Quakers who are rich and vibrant in history. The challenge of my congregation is maintaining traditional practices of faith while being open to expressions of contemporary Christianity.
My situation is similar in nature to thousands of churches in America. There is a deep struggle in the Body of Christ over how to incorporate both traditional and contemporary modes of worship. We find some help in this problem from our scripture reading.
The Beatitudes from Matthew 5:1-12 are timeless in their approach. Each generation must come anew to this core teaching of the Savior. Every person who claims to be a follower of Christ Jesus must examine how these commands apply to their lives. In the Beatitudes we have foundational principals put forth by Jesus, which inform all other teachings.
Many biblical scholars have suggested the Ten Commandments listed in Exodus 20 are a supreme ethic for Old Testament faith. The New Testament companion to the Ten Commandments are Beatitudes given by Jesus. In these two sets of Bible readings we have a moral compass for daily living of both Christians and Jews.
The difficulty becomes that Beatitudes are in direct competition with secular values. Our culture dictates that the goal in life is to climb a ladder of success. Jesus states that blessings come when we are "poor in spirit." Possessing a contrite spirit contrasts with the notion of climbing over others while marching toward power and fame.
Again the Messiah states in our scripture that we will receive blessing in mourning and having a meek heart. When is the last time you have wept over the craven nature of our country? God is looking for praying people who have a broken heart and mourn at what is going on in these United States. To be meek is to have all your energy and focus directed strictly upon God. A meek person is not some sort of ninety pound weakling who has no strength. Meekness comes through a dependency upon the Holy Spirit.
The Beatitudes go on to tell us that blessing is discovered in hungering and thirsting for God while also having a spirit of mercy. In our world we hunger and thirst for material possessions but not the Lord Jesus. Today we worship at an altar of those who are rude and crude. There are so few examples of those who witness to divine mercy.
Jesus concludes the Beatitudes with an inference to peacemakers and persecuted followers. Violence and brutality follow humankind everywhere. How much this world is in need of the peace of Christ. Christians are persecuted for their faith in many third-world countries. The church flourishes in these nations because of those who suffer on account of Christ.
The Beatitudes are both old and new. They are old in that Christ first gave us these scriptures over 2,000 years ago. The Beatitudes are new when we attempt to apply them to our life situation. Contemporary and traditional contained in this one set of biblical principals. May the church rediscover our moral compass -- the Beatitudes!
John Fitzgerald lives in Leesburg, Ohio, with his wife Carolyn and has served as pastor at the Leesburg Friends Meeting for the past 27 years. Cornfield Cathedral (Fairway Press, 2013) is the second book authored by Pastor Fitzgerald. John has earned a Master's of Ministry Degree from the Earlham School of Religion in Richmond, Indiana.
*****************************************
StoryShare, February 2, 2014, issue.
Copyright 2014 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"The Man with the Power" by Keith Hewitt
"A Moral Compass" by John Fitzgerald
* * * * * * *
The Man with the Power
by Keith Hewitt
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Lucius inched back on his curule, trying to find a comfortable position, but the sad and simple truth was that after spending the better part of his morning sitting under the bright sun there was no comfortable position. His legs tingled, practically burned, with desire to move and were stilled only by discipline; his back ached from having to hold his old bones rigidly upright. It would not do to slump before the natives... he could almost hear his father whispering in his ear, and the corners of his mouth turned down.
The centurion in charge of the morning's proceedings saw the change in expression, interpreted it incorrectly as displeasure, reacted reflexively by cuffing the next prisoner as he was escorted in. The prisoner -- a skinny little man -- staggered exaggeratedly at the blow, barely managed to stay standing as the soldiers who flanked him stopped front and center in front of Lucius.
"Benjamin, a Galileean," the noncom announced crisply and stopped as though nothing else needed to be said.
Truth be told, it was enough... but one had to respect the niceties. "His crime?"
"Treason, sedition, incitement to riot, and generally being a thorn in my side."
Lucius, who had been listening but not paying attention, stumbled mentally at the last charge and looked up quickly, catching the centurion's eye. The old soldier shrugged and smiled crookedly. "I added that last one m'self, sir. This one's been trying to convert my men."
Lucius sighed and shook his head. Really, these religious fanatics knew no bounds. "Is that true, prisoner?" he asked sharply, turning his attention to the native, shifting from Latin to Aramaic. He disliked doing so -- the language was crude, and he felt like he was making meaningless baby-talk with one of his grandchildren, but it was the only way most of the rabble would speak. In the old days, on principle, he had refused to learn the native tongue -- but these were a stiff-necked bunch.
This one, who had looked from man to man as they spoke, clearly without understanding, just shrugged. "Is what true?"
"My centurion says you've been trying to convert his troops. Is that true?"
"Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ came to deliver all men, Excellency. Even Romans."
Lucius glanced sharply at the centurion to see if he had caught the answer, but he clearly had not -- a judgment confirmed by the lack of a truncheon to the head or to the knees, which would have been the expected response to such impertinence. Turning back to the prisoner, then, he said mildly, "Brave words, from a man in chains."
The prisoner held up his shackled hands, palms out, in an inviting gesture. "No bravery or disrespect was intended, Excellency. I said what I did in all humility. It is the simple truth. Jesus Christ did come to deliver all men, for all men are sinners."
Jupiter, when would this end? How many more would he need to see before this was snuffed out? Lucius wondered, studying the prisoner. Though slight of build, and obviously somewhat battered -- though no more so than you would expect a traitor to be, after being in custody for two days -- he managed to hold himself up straight, and to look Lucius in the eye when he spoke. It was discomfiting.
After a long silence, Lucius shifted again and leaned forward. "This Jesus you speak of -- you and your kind. You do mean the Galilean who was executed in Jerusalem, do you not? The Nazarene?" It was not a guess -- he had interviewed many of these Christ-followers before, gleaning more than he really wanted to know from their ramblings about this man. He had even talked to an officer, once -- part of the Sixth Legion, barracked in Jerusalem -- who had been there when the troublesome Jew was executed. The rebel had died a miserable death, alone. He was of no consequence in life, remembered only for the trouble he seemed to cause in death... remarkable, considering how feckless his followers had been when he was arrested.
"That is who I speak of," the prisoner confirmed, casting a quick glance skyward.
"Then tell me this. That man died, broken and bleeding, crying out for his family, who were nowhere to be found that day. How could such a broken man be a savior of anyone, let alone his betters?"
There was another long silence before the little man stirred and said, "You misunderstand, Excellency. Jesus' death shows strength, not weakness. He was not powerless that day -- far from it."
"If there is a man on a cross, and a man who put him there -- the man who put him there is the one with the power. It is obvious."
"Is it?" The prisoner smiled gently, then, and Lucius frowned. The man was obviously mad. Lucius shook his head, raised one hand to gesture toward the scribe, who was recording the sentences that morning. Before he could speak, though, the prisoner continued, "If there is a man on a cross, and a man who put him there -- but the man on the cross chose to be there -- who really showed their power?"
"Only a mad man would choose the cross," Lucius said abruptly, involuntarily recalling the many such deaths he had seen. Even though he had put many of them there himself, there was a part of him that cringed. "You speak nonsense, clothed in mystery."
"There is no mystery, Excellency. It is all about will. Humankind has free will, the will to choose to follow God or to follow their base instincts, which lead away from God. Now, through his mighty power, God could force men to follow him... but only by violating the free will he gave them in the first place, so what would be the point? The alternative is to lead us to choose to follow him. Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, chose to die so that the price for our sin could be paid... and to show us that it is possible to choose the way of the servant, the way of sacrifice. That dying for what is right, in the face of accepting what is wrong, is not powerlessness -- it's the ultimate power."
Lucius leaned forward again, inching forward on his curule. "So is that your choice, then, prisoner?"
The prisoner spread his hands again. "I stand before you, for the crime of preaching the good news to my neighbors. If my choice is to stand silent, and deny Jesus, or to die for the privilege of speaking about him... then I choose death." He shrugged, causing his chains to clink. "What else can I choose?"
Lucius sighed and nodded toward the scribe, who began writing again. "Probably nothing. A mad man cannot choose not to be mad."
The prisoner smiled again, a fleeting expression. "And a saved man cannot choose to be unsaved. Thank you, Excellency."
Lucius said nothing in return, just waved his hand to have him dragged off... the man's answer had unnerved him, somehow. Nothing about these people made sense, and the more of them they killed, the more there seemed to be. Even so, he had no doubt that Rome would win in the end.
Lucius watched as the man was half-dragged out of the courtyard, still mulling over their brief discussion... and just before the prisoner was taken out of view, Lucius noted with surprise that it must be much later in the morning than he thought... for the prisoner cast a long, long shadow.
Keith Hewitt is the author of three volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a local pastor, former youth leader and Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He is currently serving as the pastor at Parkview UMC in Turtle Lake, Wisconsin. Keith is married to a teacher, and they have two children and assorted dogs and cats.
A Moral Compass
by John Fitzgerald
Matthew 5:1-12
Bill Murray starred in the 1993 film called Groundhog Day that featured a weatherman who repeated one day over and over again. We think about this theme on February 2. It does seem like life can go around in circles without breaking out of established traditions. The church in particular can be hidebound by teachings instituted centuries ago. Someone once said the seven last words of a church are: We have never done it this way before.
Tradition is good, but not if it limits us to the new acts God is performing. A better approach is building upon the old patterns and adding new approaches to fit present circumstances. This is what our Lord taught in the parable found in Matthew 13:52: Jesus said, "Therefore every teacher of the law who has been instructed about the kingdom of heaven is like the owner of a house who brings out of his storeroom new treasurers as well as old."
According to the master teacher, those who instruct about God's kingdom must share insights from both old and new ways of looking at things. It is not an easy task to combine religious heritage with a modern approach to faith. Just ask those of us who serve in mainline Protestant churches. I am a Friends pastor serving Quakers who are rich and vibrant in history. The challenge of my congregation is maintaining traditional practices of faith while being open to expressions of contemporary Christianity.
My situation is similar in nature to thousands of churches in America. There is a deep struggle in the Body of Christ over how to incorporate both traditional and contemporary modes of worship. We find some help in this problem from our scripture reading.
The Beatitudes from Matthew 5:1-12 are timeless in their approach. Each generation must come anew to this core teaching of the Savior. Every person who claims to be a follower of Christ Jesus must examine how these commands apply to their lives. In the Beatitudes we have foundational principals put forth by Jesus, which inform all other teachings.
Many biblical scholars have suggested the Ten Commandments listed in Exodus 20 are a supreme ethic for Old Testament faith. The New Testament companion to the Ten Commandments are Beatitudes given by Jesus. In these two sets of Bible readings we have a moral compass for daily living of both Christians and Jews.
The difficulty becomes that Beatitudes are in direct competition with secular values. Our culture dictates that the goal in life is to climb a ladder of success. Jesus states that blessings come when we are "poor in spirit." Possessing a contrite spirit contrasts with the notion of climbing over others while marching toward power and fame.
Again the Messiah states in our scripture that we will receive blessing in mourning and having a meek heart. When is the last time you have wept over the craven nature of our country? God is looking for praying people who have a broken heart and mourn at what is going on in these United States. To be meek is to have all your energy and focus directed strictly upon God. A meek person is not some sort of ninety pound weakling who has no strength. Meekness comes through a dependency upon the Holy Spirit.
The Beatitudes go on to tell us that blessing is discovered in hungering and thirsting for God while also having a spirit of mercy. In our world we hunger and thirst for material possessions but not the Lord Jesus. Today we worship at an altar of those who are rude and crude. There are so few examples of those who witness to divine mercy.
Jesus concludes the Beatitudes with an inference to peacemakers and persecuted followers. Violence and brutality follow humankind everywhere. How much this world is in need of the peace of Christ. Christians are persecuted for their faith in many third-world countries. The church flourishes in these nations because of those who suffer on account of Christ.
The Beatitudes are both old and new. They are old in that Christ first gave us these scriptures over 2,000 years ago. The Beatitudes are new when we attempt to apply them to our life situation. Contemporary and traditional contained in this one set of biblical principals. May the church rediscover our moral compass -- the Beatitudes!
John Fitzgerald lives in Leesburg, Ohio, with his wife Carolyn and has served as pastor at the Leesburg Friends Meeting for the past 27 years. Cornfield Cathedral (Fairway Press, 2013) is the second book authored by Pastor Fitzgerald. John has earned a Master's of Ministry Degree from the Earlham School of Religion in Richmond, Indiana.
*****************************************
StoryShare, February 2, 2014, issue.
Copyright 2014 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
