Where God's Power is Seen

[This was shared during worship with the people of Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio, this morning.]

2 Corinthians 12:2-10
One of my seminary professors, Ron Hals, used to wonder whether, if he had lived during the time of Jesus, he might not have been as skeptical as Jesus’ enemies (and Jesus's friends) could be.

“I can just imagine,” he would tell us, “seeing Jesus perform a miracle like restoring sight to a blind man or raising Lazarus from the dead and then saying, ‘Do it again...Slower.’”

Dr. Hals was saying that had he lived in first century Palestine, he might have questioned Jesus’ power. And had he seen Jesus crucified, he might well have wondered what good Jesus’ power was if Jesus couldn’t elude suffering with that power.

Skepticism about Jesus’ power and the good it does in the lives of those who believe in Jesus is nothing new. In our second Bible lesson, the apostle Paul, the first century evangelist, some of whose writings comprise a big chunk of the New Testament, is dealing with Christians who are skeptical about these very things.

Apparently, shortly before Paul wrote to these Christians, members of the church in the Greek city of Corinth, had been wowed by some preachers who had convinced them that if the power of the God made known to the world through Jesus was really in them, then their lives would be problem-free. They would have success, victories, and no illness.

Now, it is true that Christ gives His Church, among other ministries, the power to bring God’s help to people, including healing for all kinds. That’s among the reasons why, here at Saint Matthew, we pray for people’s healing during worship, have healing services, and are starting our parish health ministry. In our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus sent out the twelve apostles two by two, and gave them the power to heal in His Name.

But no healing in this world lasts indefinitely; even after Jesus brought His friend Lazarus back from the dead, Lazarus still died again. This world and you and I are imperfect and death comes to all who are part of this world. There’s no way around that.

“So, where is the power of God and what good is the power of God in your preaching?” the Corinthians asked Paul.

Their questions were pointed because, unlike the preachers who had wowed them, Paul was a less than impressive figure. By this time deep into his forties or early fifties, elderly in that world, slight, balding, a poor and rambling speaker who scratched together what little income he made by patching together tents, Paul’s career as a Christian preacher wasn’t notable for its successes. In the course of his work, he’d been arrested and flogged, shipwrecked and beaten, mocked, chased out of several towns, and jailed. How far through the call process do you think a preacher like Paul would make it in most churches? Not far, I’ll bet. Most people would look at him and see a big “L” for “loser” on his forehead.

But by the time we get to the point in the letter to the Corinthian Christians that makes up our second lesson for today, this loser has a thing or two to say to these people who question the authenticity of his message about Jesus Christ and his authority to share it.

Maybe wary of being a braggart, Paul uses the third person to tell about a personal experience he’d had fourteen years earlier, but, so far as we know, had never shared before. “I know a person in Christ,” he says, “who…was caught up in the third heaven [this is what early Christians called paradise, where the risen and ascended Jesus lives]…and [Paul goes on, this person] heard things…that no mortal is permitted to repeat…”

Paul had experienced a vision of heaven that the preachers who had impressed the Corinthian Christians might not even have been able to imagine.

But, Paul says--and this is the most important thing about our lesson from Second Corinthians--that experience, as awesome as it was, did not prove Jesus’ power over sin and death and it didn’t prove Paul’s authority to tell others about Jesus. Something else did. In fact, two something elses proved those things. God's power is most readily seen in two ways.

The first is in God's grace.

The second is in our weakness.

A conference of theologians was being held in Great Britain. They’d been debating the question of what was the central teaching of the Christian faith. Apparently by coincidence, C.S. Lewis, the novelist and teacher who had once been an atheist and then a champion of Christian belief, happened on the conference. When Lewis learned that they were debating what was the most important teaching of Christianity, he said, “That’s easy: Grace.” Grace is God’s charity, God’s acceptance us we are.

The super apostles who had wowed the Corinthian Christians said that, “If there’s something wrong in your life—some illness, adversity, heartbreak, poverty, or struggle—it proves that you’re faithless.”

You still hear people saying things like this today. A faithful pastor friend of mine watched, as within months, his wife was diagnosed with a debilitating disease and his daughter was found to suffer from Down Syndrome. At a church convention shortly thereafter, he asked for prayers. During a break, a man approached him and said, “I am praying that you will repent because you must have done something terribly wrong for God to send these punishments to you.” I wish the apostle Paul had been around when that ignorant man approached my friend. Paul would have given him a smackdown!

In our lesson, Paul says that to keep him from being too elated by his heavenly vision, God had allowed Satan to afflict him with some sort of “thorn in the flesh.” We have no idea what it was. It may have been an illness, an incessant temptation, a psychological disturbance, a relationship problem, a lack of money. We don’t know. Three times, Paul says, he had asked God for relief. And three times the answer came back, “My grace—my charitable love, forgiveness, presence, and acceptance—are sufficient.”

Everybody here this morning knows what it is to experience thorns in the flesh. They’re the problems and heartaches that bedevil us and seem never to go completely away. They drive us to our knees and there, before God, we learn that all of the things we thought we needed to make life complete—health, money, connections, the big house, the respect of others—are nice, but they're not what we need the most. What we really need is the grace of God given to all through Jesus Christ. God's grace is the first thing that proves the power of Jesus Christ.

The second thing that proves the power of Jesus Christ is our weakness. Two weeks ago tonight, sixteen of us from Saint Matthew, who were on our mission trip in Nashville, gathered for our nightly devotions. From our handbook for the week, Sam asked this question of us, “What changes about a person when the Spirit of the Lord is on them?” I immediately thought of those times when I’ve sensed that God, the Holy Spirit, the Power and Presence of God the Father and God the Son, Jesus, has been with me, and my answer to that question was clear: I know God is with me when I can do what I can’t do.

Many, if not most, of you know exactly what I’m talking about...

You had to be with a loved one over months as they died and you knew that on your own, you couldn’t do what you needed to do.

Or, you had to undergo one more round of medical treatments, one more battery of tests, and you knew that you just couldn’t take it.

Or, in order to graduate or be certified, you had to pass a class for which you knew you had no talent or ability.

Or, to make the mortgage payment and provide your kids with a nice Christmas, you had to work double shifts for which you knew you didn’t have the strength.

In each case, you called out to the God we know in Jesus Christ and confessed, “Lord, I can’t.” And in each case, God told you, “I know that you can’t. But I can! Lean on me."

This was exactly what Paul experienced when he had asked God to remove the unidentified thorn in his flesh. “I’m not taking this adversity away,” God told Paul. “You’re going to have to go through it, leaning on my grace.” Why? Because, God says, “power is made perfect in weakness.”

God’s power is experienced only by people who admit that they’re powerless without Jesus Christ. We’re powerless when, by ourselves, we try to make sound decisions, make our relationships work, be happy, deal with our sins, or face life and death. But when we own our weakness and seek Christ’s help, we can face anything. God’s power surges into us. “Whenever I am weak,” Paul says, “I am strong.”

“I didn’t know if I could ever be happy again,” a woman told me years after her husband had died. There were dark days, pain interspersed with lifeless numbness. All the while, there were things to be done—children to be raised, bills to be paid, errands to be run. “I was sure that I just couldn’t do it,” she said. But in the midst of it all, she learned what Paul underscores in today’s lesson. Through Jesus Christ, God demonstrates His power by giving grace to the needy—and that’s all of us—and strength to the weak—that, too, is all of us.

If you’re feeling weak or powerless today, that’s good. It means you’re seeing life clearly. Don’t give up hope. Our strong God stands at the ready to give you grace and strength. God will see you through!

A Jealous God

Good thoughts from Patrick Oden:

God is holy. God is love. These aren’t two sides, these are the same thing, expressed in relational pursuits. He is whole. He wants our wholeness. He’s jealous if we seek that elsewhere. Because there’s no where elsewhere it can be wholly found.

Amen!

'Honor Your Father and Mother'

A command that applies to adults in relation to their parents.

'Three Angels'

From Dylan's most unique LP, New Morning.



(With a little aural augmentation at end added by the creator of the vidso.)

Interesting Thoughts on Bishop Hanson's Letter

Bishop Mark Hanson of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), of which I am a part, sent a pastoral letter to all leaders of the denomination this past week.

Chris Duckworth reacts here. (The linked post contains a link to Hanson's original letter.) Chris's point about the difference between basic baptismal unity, on the one hand, and confessional unity, on the other, is right on.

I have deep respect for Bishop Hanson. But I think that Chris is right in saying that the bishop's letter misses the point about what's at stake in the August churchwide assembly's scheduled votes on a new sexuality statement and the sexuality task force's recommendations that ELCA congregations be allowed to depart from past practices on the ordination of practicing homosexuals in committed relationships and on the sanctioning of committed homosexual relationships. Basic baptismal unity is not sufficient to bind together a denomination which claims to have a common, specific understanding of the Christian faith.

The proposed changes, in spite of the facile arguments of the sexuality task force that their recommendations deal only with ethics and not theology, would be major and potentially disruptive of our unity.

The option left to individual congregations to decide what they will do in practice seems a shrewd political move, allowing congregations to agree to disagree. It may therefore appeal to our American penchant for individualism.

The sexuality task force seems to be betting that their approach will placate enough people to keep from tearing the ELCA apart. They may be right, at least organizationally.

But with the adoption of these recommendations, will we lack theological and confessional clarity if the assembly adopts the recommended policies? I think so. What good will our unity be then?

I favor, as I think all Christians should, full civil rights for all people. But the recommendations before the assembly have nothing to do with civil rights. They deal with theology, with what we say about what God has revealed to the world, with the exercise of what is known as the "office of the keys," the proclamation of forgiveness or condemnation on behalf of God. Whatever one's position on the recommendations, one must concede, I think, such sanctioned changes cannot be papered over by appeals to baptismal unity. The world will rightly want to know, "What exactly do Lutherans believe about the Sixth Commandment?" These proposed policies, which venture far from 2000 years of Christian belief, won't provide an answer.

Bad?

This?

Palin's Resignation

Here. Was it impulsive or calculated? I'm betting impulsive.

Fight Pancreatic Cancer

I just saw President Carter's PSA on pancreatic cancer, which has taken so many of his family members. My uncle died from it two years ago. You can donate here to help with research for a cure of this horrible disease.

Good Advice for Pastors and Overextended Laypeople

Leonard Sweet tweeted this quote from an old mentor of his:

Love the church, but don't let the church become your lover.

In all circumstances...

When things are good.

When things are bad.

Just downloaded...

Classic sounds and wise, often fun, lyrics from two of the pioneers of Christian contemporary music, fifty-somethings Phil Keaggy and Randy Stonehill. They've both got it.

Here is a review. These guys are really playing with their musical influences--Beatles, Who, Everly Brothers, Elvis, Carl Perkins, Steve Miller, Johnny Rivers--and it's fun.

A special treat is the pair's remake of a song they performed as the title track of a Keaggy project two decades ago, then along with Russ Taff, Sunday's Child. Now, as then, the song has them in full-Beatles mode.

I'll add this: If Keaggy isn't, as many claim, the greatest rock guitarist in the world, he's certainly one of them.

You can buy it at Amazon or iTunes. The latter is substantially less expensive.