The Very Rev. Anthony Thurston
One of the chief misunderstandings that you and I experience in life is the difference between power and weakness. What we think appears to be power often stands as weakness. And what seems to be a weakness often proves to be power, when all is said and done. We experience this paradox and confusing experience at many levels of our lives.
We live in the most powerful nation in the history of the world. Yet there are weaknesses that baffle the most intelligent and resourceful political, sociological and economic leaders. There is the weakness of unbalanced budgets, with an astronomical debt that threatens to bury our children and grandchildren. There is the weakness of conflict and suspicion among nations. There is a growing fear between conservatives and liberals and a hostility between the two that appears irresolvable. There continues to be racial issues between whites and blacks and Latinos and Native Americans. There is the weakness of crushing poverty for growing numbers of Americans and the threat that more people will be thrown into this condition because of our inability to resolve the need for food and education, housing and employment and health care. All of the power which we so proudly announce to the world has little to offer when it comes to the healing many of these issues, conflicts and concerns.
Clearly something needs to be done if hope is to be found. Some source of power from outside us must be made available, and it must be a power which transcends that which is generally thought to be supreme in the world’s scale of values. It must be a power that can be felt. It must be a power that proves to meet our highest aspirations. It must be a power that can reach across death and it must have the quality of endurance and motivation and love. It must be the sort of power that, out of weakness, makes us strong as individuals and as a people.
It is during the season of Lent, this first Sunday in Lent—
today—that just may be this kind of discovery.
In Jesus’ time—a couple of thousand years ago— that which was seen as power—the Roman government and the Jewish Sanhedrin—ended up , as we know from history, as a colossal weakness. And what seemed like the weakness of Jesus— proved to be a power beyond all human comprehension—a power which has changed the course of human history.
This peasant man—this simple carpenter—this itinerant Jesus—and the meaning of his life after his crucifixion, is the most confounding of all human experiences. It was confounding when we read of those who were committed to the belief that “might makes right”—because those were people who were forced to turn from the crucifixion with contempt. And in our day, those who think only in terms of the mightiness of power and of battle find what Jesus stood for as baffling. Those who attribute supremacy to reason and logic see only foolishness in the message of Jesus. To those who looked on, or passed by that hill of Calvary, what they thought they saw was a case of weakness in its most hopeless form.
But look at the Romans of the first century. Everyone in the known world was afraid to challenge Roman power. Rome was the world’s most enduring Empire. Yet, time revealed the collapse of Rome and the disappearance of the Empire in the face of the world’s wonder at the presence of that simple, peasant carpenter from Nazareth.
In the mist of the apparent weakness of Jesus, we see a man who represented the power of human integrity, of human dignity, of compassion and courage and the power to rise above his own suffering and to become the man of God who suffers for all humankind. And as we reflect upon that kind of power, we see the difference between the power of the world and the power of God—the power of the Spirit. In Jesus there was the power to create, a power to have deep human relationships, a power to be with others at the level of the heart, a power to heal the wounds of the human spirit, and a power to triumph over the most difficult hardships of life.
In the person of Jesus is found a kind of power which is expectant with hope. For countless thousands and millions of people, in countless circumstances of life— for you and for me—everybody sitting here today—there is nothing more powerful in all the earth than the Cross of Jesus!
Throughout his whole ministry, Jesus faced a choice between earthly power and the power which the world calls weakness. Jesus was aware of the futile power of the world in the face of the need for human redemption. “What shall it profit a man, if he gains the whole world and loses his soul?”
You and I are constantly facing the dilemma of the power of the world. We are confronted with the power of position, of prestige, of the power of wealth and of status. And the more we hope for that kind of power—for strength and status and importance—the less we are able to discover the power which comes from God in our lives. We discover this power of God when we are penitent and humble and expectant.
“You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you: but whoever is great among you must be your minister, and whoever is chief among you must be your servant; even as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto but to minister, and to give His life as a ransom for many.”
This season of Lent is our time to come closer to Jesus and to find in him the power that frees us and redeems us. We all rely on some kind of power. We are unable to be neutral about power. The way we live points to the sort of power we really believe in and rely on. For the Christian, it’s a matter of the quality and the final meaning of the power that you and I choose.
Over these next few weeks, I invite you to a Lent in which we will discuss the power of Jesus. I will be talking about the power of action; the power of our response; the power of pain; and, finally, the power of peace. I invite you to search with me in discovering the power of Jesus who can challenge and stir and move and—ultimately—save us.
We will continue next week with the power of action.
Amen
