Through the Smoke--June 2, 2020

Through the Smoke--June 2, 2020

"Many crowds followed [Jesus], and he cured all of them, and he ordered them not to make him known. This was to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah: 

'Here is my servant, whom I have chosen,

    my beloved, with whom my soul is well pleased.

 I will put my Spirit upon him,

    and he will proclaim justice to the Gentiles.

 He will not wrangle or cry aloud,

    nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets.

 He will not break a bruised reed

    or quench a smoldering wick

 until he brings justice to victory.

     And in his name the Gentiles will hope'." [Matthew 12:15b-21]

In the Bible, the greatest examples of power show up as gentleness.  And the truest forms of strength look at first blush like being "weak."  Full stop.

Now, I get it that saying this runs counter to our usual expectations.  For sure, it is the opposite of the way that conventional wisdom sees power or strength.  Those voices you and I already know.  We can't get away from them--after all, they ain't called "the powers" for nothin'.  They shout and bellow and threaten, and pose for photo ops to do it, and then dress it all up with the appearance of Respectable Religion.  And yet, against all the background noise of that bluster, and through all the smoke, there is an alternative.  It is the way of Jesus.  And the Gospel writers have been pointing to him through that haze all along, calling us to see, not a spectacle of domination or force or violence, but of compelling gentleness.  The biblical writers want us to see it, too: that true power doesn't cajole or rattle a saber in one hand while holding a Bible in the other, but stoops to lift up a bent blade of grass, and pauses to help a flickering candle to shine again.  This is the power of God, not the loud counterfeits that surround us at every turn.

This really is a radical thing to say.  It certainly is today, but it was just as scandalous when Matthew wrote these words about Jesus and quoted from the prophet Isaiah.  After all, back in the first century, Rome proudly declared to the world that THEY were the true power, and that their WAY of showing you their power was to dominate anybody who stood in their way.  Rome's strategy was to overwhelm anyone who threatened their law and order with ruthless force, and to try and win popular support by casting anyone who opposed them as dangerous, lawless brigands, terroristic zealots, or barbarians.  That way Caesar could cast himself as the noble hero, guardian of peace and safety for all... when in actuality, Caesar was just one more loud brash blowhard waiting to be tossed into the dustbin of history.  Everywhere you looked in the first century there were signs of Rome promoting itself, and Caesar casting himself as the divinely-appointed head of the empire.  They put it on banners and flags, they stamped it on coins, and they carved it in marble.  They made shows of military force in pompous parades marching through cities,  keeping the residents of the cities they occupied petrified in fear and then they had the gall to call it all "the Pax Romana"--the "Roman peace."  If you lived in the first century, in Palestine, you were taught from your earliest memories that the mark of power was having your boot on someone else's neck, and that you must be "weak" if you did not threaten others to make them do what you demanded.  

And over against all that, here comes Matthew, the Gospel-writer, daring to say that a homeless rabbi from the imperial backwater was in fact the true Lord of the universe and the Chosen Servant of God.  And the kicker was Matthew's proof--he said, "The way you know Jesus really is God's Messiah is that he DOESN'T threaten or cajole or bluster, but uses gentleness to bring justice."  Matthew quotes the prophet Isaiah as if this clinches it: "Here are the receipts!  They show that Jesus is really what God's kind of power look like--see, Jesus is the kind of person who doesn't need to even raise his voice; he doesn't need to intimidate, because he hasn't come to make anybody afraid.  His way of ruling is to bind up what is broken, to lift up again what has been stepped on, and to give his strength so that others who are weak may be empowered.  But he doesn't need to yell or bring in any armies to do it--that's how you know it's God's kind of power."

Look, the choice is actually pretty stark: either "real" power needs shock and awe and spectacle (and a dose of religious pageantry) to get our attention and scare people into obeying, or true power is just the opposite: the quiet actions to heal and help those who have been stepped on, done without an audience or a photo op to look pious.  The contrast could not be more clear, and day by day we are asked to make the choice about how we will spend our lives.  Will we listen to the loud voices of the powers of the day, or will we believe what the writers of both Testaments have been saying all along: that God's power looks like healing the broken and gently caring for the wounded, rather than Caesar's carefully choreographed shows of power?  We don't get to pick both--Caesar will always laugh at Jesus' way and call him "weak-looking," and Jesus just never had any use for waving banners to draw attention or making himself look more religious than he really is. Caesar is always most interested in asking, "What will make me look tough?" and instead, Jesus is simply interested in living out the answer to, "What will bring people more fully to life?" The question today--maybe the only question that really matters day by day--is simply, "Whose vision of power will I accept as the truth?"

Matthew, for his part, has laid his cards on the table, and he is openly admitting where his allegiance lies.  If we dare to take his words authoritatively--you know, like as Holy Scripture, the answer is pretty clear, too, even through all the smoke.

Lord Jesus, we dare to confess you as our Lord and the true picture of divine power, even though you look nothing like the way the world recognizes power.  Strengthen us to follow in your way, even if the world thinks it looks like weakness.