A HUMBLE MESSIAH: BRING IT ON?

I Corinthians 12:1-6; Mark 1:40-44, 3:7-12, 8:27-30

While playing baseball with the Over-40 N.J. Patriots a few years ago, I had a most humiliating experience: in one inning, I managed to drop or misjudge three fly balls. I have never been a great baseball player but I usually caught things that were hit in my direction and I found that experience rather embarrassing. The team manager tried to salve my ego by suggesting that maybe it was the new tri-focal glasses I was wearing that caused the misplays, but it occurred to me that my errors were probably best attributed to the fact that I was getting too old and too slow to play with 40 year olds.

Baseball at best is a humbling experience; even the best batters make outs more often than they get hits and there are a host of things in this game that can make seemingly easy situations become quite difficult. So, I decided to hang up my spikes rather than continue to put myself in situations that might cause more humiliation. Over the years, I have seen some of my favorite professional baseball players hang on long after they should have retired and the results were always embarrassing. It only took that one game for me to figure out that enough was enough and I am grateful for that.

This reminds me of a saying one of my friends often uses: if you won't be humble, you will be humbled. Humiliation is a far different thing from humility. Humiliation is often the product of self-will out of control; of thinking you can do more than you can do; of that overstepping quality the Greeks defined with the word "hubris." Humbleness, on the other hand, is quite the contrary; it is a quiet sense of one's strengths and limitations and a recognition that whatever we may achieve or accomplish is a product of God's living power in our lives. We see this time and again in the writings of Paul. He was on-fire with the Gospel and evinced incredible energy and enthusiasm as he roamed the Mediterranean shores bringing the good news of Jesus to far away countries. He accomplished much, but as in this morning's scripture reading, he always attributes his accomplishments to the power of God working through him. He brags or boasts, not of his own ability, but of what God is doing through him. Paul had, apparently, a remarkable ability to persuade, cajole or simply convince those to whom he spoke that in Jesus, God had entered the world in a new way and was transforming both the world and individual lives with a power and love previously unknown. But, again, Paul takes no credit for God's action in Christ; he is but a humble harbinger of the good news.

Jesus is presented to us in the Gospels as a humble person. Time and again, he resists the calls of his followers and those to whom he preached to become the all-powerful, militaristic messiah the Jews had long awaited. He performs miraculous healings--or, if you will--unleashes the healing power that faith can give--and then tells those around him not to spread word of his miraculous powers. Indeed, the Gospel of Mark is full of situations in which Jesus admonishes his followers to keep both his actions and his identity a secret. Theologians far brighter and more knowledgeable than I have come up with various theories concerning Jesus' reticence to have his actions trumpeted far and wide but I think it is his paradoxical humble power, his sense that his mission is to spread the good news of God's love not by high-pressure "marketing" but by quiet acts of care and concern that underlies his humble approach.

As anyone who has been unable to avoid CNN must know, our world is fraught with conflict, war, and various other perils. Saber-rattling and displays of power and might are everywhere. Israel and Hezbollah are going chin to chin, each trying to best the other with military or guerilla warfare. Iran and North Korea are struggling to become nuclear powers; militants in Darfur are engaging in brutal genocide; the list is almost endless. And there is certainly an increasing amount of evidence that the industrialized world-powers are trashing our environment. When confronted with the fact that not everyone in Iraq was happy with the U.S. invasion and that organized terrorist resistance was growing, our president responded with: "bring it on." It seems to me--and this is just my opinion--that "bring it on" is antithetical to the message of the Gospel. "Bring it on" is an overt challenge, a call to war, an "I'm more powerful than you are" threat. To be sure, there are many places in the Gospels where Jesus directly challenges the established religious and secular powers of the land, but I can't recall any passages of Scripture in which Jesus even faintly threatens the use of physical force to get his point across. It is very hard to convince someone you love them when you're threatening to blow them up.

Being humble does not mean being weak or wishy-washy or cowardly. The Sunday School image of Jesus as the meek and mild shepherd who just walked around patting little children on the head is somewhat at odds with the reality of this man. He could show anger, as when he overturned the tables of the money changers in the temple. He had a particular dislike of hypocrisy and often stood up to the wealthy and overly comfortable religious leaders of Israel. Many of his parables and more direct preaching reflected his full understanding of how difficult and precious life is and how easy it is to get side-tracked by our efforts to gain power, prestige or simply "comfort," often at the expense of others. Yet, again, he resisted the temptation to become a powerful military or religious dictator; he knew that the Gospel he had come to spread was not something that could be accomplished through overt displays of might or competitive power.

I recently retired from a position in a large pharmaceutical and health-care company. During my 19 years with this company, I had ample opportunity to see the different ways in which executives used their power. There were those who lead by intimidation; powerful men and women who used their power to get things done. And they got results. There were also those who lead in a very different way; who gave power to those under them and tried to fix difficult situations through caring interaction with others. This latter group seemed to realize that a "kinder, gentler" approach was often as effective as direct displays of power and had the advantage of not engender retaliation from subordinates. They showed a genuine care and concern for those under them and dealt with them as if they were real people and not just functionaries. And, like their more overtly powerful colleagues, they also got results. I suspect that this latter group is closer to the style of living which Jesus lived.

A few years ago, I had the opportunity to meet and chat with Fred Rogers, the "Mr.Rogers" of public television fame. He spoke at an executive luncheon at the company where I worked. The room was full of powerful executives. He spoke to these men and women about how important it was to treat all people with dignity and respect. He did so in his characteristically quiet, unassuming manner and evinced a genuine humility which one does not often see around corporate corridors. I'm not really sure how well he got his message across to the others in the room but I was much taken with what he had to say, and struck by how much at odds it seemed to be with the dog-eat-dog nature that one often finds in corporate settings. Beneath the humble and assuming exterior I saw a man of remarkable power who modeled the Gospel without ever actually referring to it. He was the antithesis of "bring it on."

Those suffering from the disease of alcoholism, and who have entered recovery, are perhaps more aware than most of their own powerlessness over alcohol. I have worked with alcoholics for over 25 years and I have never seen anyone attain real sobriety through will-power or sole reliance on their own strength. Recovering alcoholics evince a humble sense of their need for the power of God in their lives to maintain sobriety or "comfortable creaturehood." I have never heard a recovering alcoholic in Alcoholics Anonymous attribute his or her sobriety to their own good character or power. They nearly always see the underlying power of God or their "higher power" as the ongoing source of their newfound and treasured sobriety. To me this is a nearly perfect reflection of the way of living which Jesus embodied and lived. It is a humble recognition of powerlessness coupled, paradoxically, with a sense of what God, in quietly powerful ways, can do when our own resources fail. I think it is unlikely that any recovering alcoholic, when confronted with the temptation to drink, would say: "bring it on," but I know many who, when such situations arise, would willingly rely upon the power of God to get beyond the temptation.

We live in a highly competitive world. Books are constantly being written which tell us how to get the competitive edge in our work and even our home lives. No one ever lost money writing a book telling us we should develop our pride and learn to "empower" ourselves. Our nation takes pride in the fact that it is the only remaining "superpower" with the military and economic might to do pretty much what it wants to do. And surely much good has come from this; we have provided much economic and medical aid to countless people around the world. Yet, there is a certain danger in this. We no longer live in a time when absolute military power can assure victory; when democracy can be spread by the bomb and rifle. I would never presume to suggest a solution for the myriad messes in which we find ourselves at home and around the world. But I would hazard the opinion that a bit of humility wouldn't hurt. Jesus appeared to be humiliated by the cross. By the world's terms, he lost and the love and compassion he modeled were ground into the dust of Gethsemane. But those who follow him might consider that he, in fact, won. That in refusing to engage in the worldly struggle for power which leads to death, he defeated and overcame anything this world has to offer.

This is not a call to unthinking passivism. Nor would I suggest that there is never a time when military might or personal displays of power are called for. And there are certainly places in the New Testament where Jesus uses rather graphically violent images to describe what will happen in the "End Time." No, it's more a matter of style or approach to life. It's a suggestion that use of swagger and dagger more often than not engender violent responses in which more harm than good is done. It's a recognition that while the world may prize the desire to "get even" or retaliate and support the "might makes right" approach to living, Jesus came to bring a plowshare, not a sword.

Not too long ago, while I was out driving, a young man in a fast car passed me on a curve, going way over the double yellow line and zooming on down the road. I like to think of myself as a peaceful person but I confess that I had an instant attack of "bring it on" and stood on the accelerator with the idea of catching up to him. Thankfully, some inner voice said "what are you doing?!" and I slowed down, deciding he probably would have no interest in hearing a long moral lecture from me about his dangerous driving. So, I confess that I am not immune to the desire to retaliate, to bring my "power" to bear on unpleasant situations. I am constantly in need of God's voice to remind me that peace is not easily won and that I am called upon to rely on the higher power of God's love in my life. Each day, with God's grace, I hope to learn to move further from "bring it on" and closer to the peace and harmony for which Christ lived, died, and lived again.

 

August 6, 2006