In case you haven’t heard, Disciples Seminary Foundation has put out a Lenten devotional, with reflections written for every Sunday of Lent, and one for Ash Wednesday, and one, I think, for each day of Holy Week. The reflections were written by various leaders in our region and our denomination. And the reflection for today, March 13, was written by yours truly.
My reflection for March 13 is based on Luke 13, which is the lectionary gospel reading for this 2nd Sunday in Lent. I do a good portion of my writing these days from various school campuses, on days when I’m substitute teaching, during conference periods when there are no students in the classroom.
So there I was, reading this scripture one day in a school classroom, thinking about Jesus calling Herod a “fox,” and referring to himself as a “hen,” and I remembered that some years back, I reflected on how this made me think of various school mascots, and how most students, I’m sure, would rather have a fox as their mascot than a hen.
And I started thinking about the various mascots at the schools where I teach. Among Long Beach High Schools, we have rams and jaguars and panthers and dragons and - perhaps the most well-known of all - jackrabbits.
Jackrabbits aren’t very ferocious, or intimidating. In the wild, animals like jaguars and panthers eat jackrabbits.
The last time I preached on this scripture (six years ago, I believe), I don’t think I had yet started teaching here in Long Beach, but I did do some research then into how it came to be that the jackrabbit is the mascot for Long Beach Poly… but I’m not going to go into that today.
In the reflection I wrote for DSF, I ended with these words: “It’s hard to imagine Jesus as a hen. We’d rather picture Jesus as a strong warrior or a powerful king. If asked to pick an animal to represent Jesus, we’d probably choose a mighty eagle over a hen; but Jesus forces us to think differently about power and might. How might picturing Jesus as a hen help us better understand the nature of power and might in the kingdom of God?”
In almost every gospel story, Jesus overturns people’s ideas of power and might. From his lowly birth to his disgraceful death, nothing in Jesus’ life is what one would expect for the Son of God, the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords.
His “army” is a ragtag bunch of misfit disciples. His military parade features a donkey instead of a war horse. His “palace” is a field, or a lakeshore, or a mountaintop. These are not the signs of power that we associate with mighty rulers.
Many people in Jesus’ time - as in our own time - believed that, to be powerful, one must be strong. Physically strong. Personal body strength, or a massive military, are signs of power.
Many people in Jesus’ time - and in our own time - also believed that money is a sign of power. To be powerful, one must have wealth. Wealth gives you power and influence, to do things, to accomplish things, to fulfill your mission.
Yet Jesus had no military, and no wealth.
That’s not to say that Jesus wasn’t tempted by these things. These are precisely the things that Satan offered to Jesus in the wilderness. Wealth and power were the greatest temptations Jesus faced.
Any one of us would probably have said yes to those temptations. Unlimited wealth? Unlimited physical power to enforce my will?
I’m sure I would tell myself and perhaps convince myself that, given this kind of wealth and power, I’d certainly use it for good, to create a better world.
I’d be the wolf who promises to care for and protect the sheep. I’d be the fox who promises to shelter and care for the chickens. I’d be different from everyone else. Just give me the money and the power; you’ll see!
But money and power have a way of corrupting one’s best intentions, don’t they?
Because once you have all that money and power, then, you realize, you have to work hard to keep all that money and power. You have to hold on to it, somehow. And that becomes an even more important goal to you than your original promise to care for and shelter the sheep and the chickens.
We see so much of this in politics. President Biden’s Build Back Better Plan, the effort to secure voting rights, and so many other important pieces of legislation fail, because a group of senators (or sometimes, even just one senator) finds himself or herself swayed more by the corporate money that funds their reelection campaigns than by the vision of what’s best for the majority of people in this country. Holding on to power and wealth becomes so important to them, that all other priorities fade into the background.
To fully follow God’s will - to be completely and wholly who he was meant to be - Jesus refused to give in to that temptation.
God’s power is manifested in the weak and lowly.
That is so hard for us to wrap our heads around. In First Corinthians, Paul writes: “God chose what is weak, low and despised; that’s why my focus is on the crucified Christ” [1 Corinthians 1:18-2:2].
The crucified Christ. The Christ who died a most dishonorable death.
I realize, I don’t preach about the crucifixion much. I don’t really like the crucifixion. I don’t like that display of power - at least, not the display of power that I see on the surface. An angry mob and its power. High priests who care more about the power they get from Rome. And the power of Rome’s own representatives - Herod and Pilate - the ones ultimately responsible for Jesus’ death.
And I’m not sure that I like the fact that I’m called to follow the example of Christ. Can I be honest here? I’m not sure I want to follow the path of sacrifice. I’m not sure I want to risk giving up my power, what power I have, if giving up that power means I am disregarded, cast aside, ignored, oppressed, trampled-down, choked, beaten, tear-gassed, imprisoned…
If I can, I want to use my power to avoid all that. I want to use my power to at least ensure some measure of security for me and my family…
And, so far in my life, I’ve mostly been able to do that. Because, even though it doesn’t always feel like it, I do have power. Not as much as a senator in Congress; but I do have power.
And, if I’m honest, a lot of my power is due to my race… my gender… my religion… my nationality… and how people perceive my sexual orientation.
All those aspects of who I am give me power. And that power makes me feel safe.
Why would I want to give that up? Why would I want to be a jackrabbit in a world of panthers, or a sheep in a world of wolves, or a hen in a world of foxes? No thank you.
The power dynamics in the kingdom of God are especially challenging for those who have power and privilege in the kingdoms of the world.
So challenging, that we take the gospel, and we re-fashion it in our own image. We so distort the gospel message, that power and might and wealth become wholly compatible with God’s kingdom.
Never mind that saying about how it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter God’s kingdom.
Never mind that there are over 2000 verses in scripture about showing justice to the poor.
Never mind that Jesus was always challenging those in positions of power, and always showing compassion to - and aligning himself with - those who suffered from their abuses and oppression.
In fact, to be a follower of Jesus, I have to let go of my power. I have to let go, and make a jump to a different kind of power.
The hen doesn’t seek to be like the fox, because then she would no longer be the hen who cares for her brood. If she becomes the fox, she will have gained power and strength, but lost the love and care she had for her chicks.
You can’t gain the fox’s power without becoming the fox, and all that that entails.
Jesus could have become like Herod, like Caesar. Jesus could have surpassed them in worldly power.
But then he would have no longer been Jesus.
And just that decision - the decision to stay with the chicks, to stay among the lowly, to remain with those who are most vulnerable - just that decision, all by itself, is powerful in a very different way.
The other day, on my boat ride back from teaching at Catalina, I was listening to a podcast which featured my friend and clergy colleague Sandhya Jha. And she talked about how there have been times when people protesting for their rights and their dignity have asked her to join them and to even risk arrest with them, because if a clergy person marched with them and was willing to be arrested with them, it would greatly increase the odds that they would all be treated fairly and not abused by the police.
And so Sandhya did.
And I have to wrestle with that: how willing or unwilling am I, to give up my power, my privilege, and be with those who are suffering and oppressed? Really and truly be with them, in every sense?
Because doing that involves giving up a lot of worldly power and privilege.
But it also taps into a power source that is even more powerful.
It’s the power of love. Compassion. Solidarity.
And it’s so incredible! It’s the power we see when we look at Jesus on the cross - so totally and completely deprived and drained of all earthly power and privilege, yet so full of the power of God’s love, which, in the end, is a far greater power - more powerful, it turns out, than even death.
And I often fail at tapping into that godly power, because I’m still too attached to earthly power.
I have a sticker on my water bottle that says, “When we’re not hungry for justice, it’s usually because we’re too full with privilege.” If we’re not willing to give up worldly power, it’s usually because we’ve been relying on it too much instead of relying on God’s power.
And I wrestle with that. And I let that statement speak to me and challenge me.
In my wrestling, I also know that the power of God’s love is present, always present, and that God’s grace continues to work in me. Jesus never ever gave up on Jerusalem. He didn’t even give up on those who used their power against him! He just continued loving them and their mixed-up ideas of power, which lets me know that Jesus hasn’t given up on me, either.
Jesus still loves me. He’s still working on me, encouraging me to move closer to the path I should follow. And for all the ways I fail him, there is grace.
Thank you, Jesus, for that grace! Thank you, God, for surrounding me with grace!
And that amazing grace, and that overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God, surround you as well.
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