Rejecting the will to power requires a better vision for our world.
Our common life and the problem of power
Proper 29C | Luke 23:33-43
The most surprising and telling line in this part of the Passion story (when the Roman Empire crucifies Jesus) is the most simple.
“The people stood by, watching Jesus on the cross”.
The leaders scoff and mock him. The soldiers seize his property like cops with a drug dealer’s PS5. Play dice to see who gets to keep it. Then, of course, they too mock Jesus.
The mockery isn’t individual choice, of course. It’s systemic. They have it on a sign ready for him: King of the Jews. And they’re all using the same talking point.
But not the people.
The people are watching in silence. No doubt in fear.
This fact is lost in our Good Friday shouts from congregations all over the world: “Crucify him!” Taking on the character of those leaders and soldiers. Just not the people.
This is the complicated, entangled view of humanity tripping us up and confusing us.
We are our government. And yet when the people aren’t represented the nation really isn’t us.
Whitewashing our theology
We like to take ourselves off the hook by putting humanity itself on the hook. We call it Original Sin. As many like to say “We killed Jesus.”
And, in a certain way “we” did.
We also like to scapegoat. So even today, Christians will say that “Jews killed Jesus.” Which is neither technically true nor rhetorically honest. It’s pure anti-semitism.
But none of that resonates with a story in which 99% of the people, who have zero power and are afraid of the vengeful spite of the Roman Empire and have done nothing themselves except think that Jesus speaks the truth, stand in silence.
When we, in church, speak of humanity’s sin here, we are, in effect, blaming the victims of Roman oppression for not fighting the greatest superpower in history and absolving the evil perpetrated by a few.
This complicated sense of authority, responsibility, participation, and identity abounds in the Passion narrative. And it is inseparable from any talk of nationalism, allegiance, or fealty to a throne. Any throne. Even a heavenly one.
The Mockery
What do the soldiers and leaders do? They mock Jesus. And what are the two main points of their mockery?
- Jesus is a king. And
- if he is God’s magical king, he’d have the power to free himself.
It’s easy to imagine these people mocking him with memes. Making fun of the “king” and his wimpiness.
Today’s Christian memes would declare that the obvious role of the king is to brutalize. So therefore, the response to oppression is to brutalize your oppressors. Photoshopping a White Jesus head on a muscle-bound warrior.
None of these people have listened to Jesus, so they don’t understand that the power and authority of God is of a whole different character. That we can’t kill our way to peace or hate our way to love.
God’s purpose isn’t supremacy. It is hard to recognize that when it is the Empire’s purpose.
To be the best
We know this intellectually, but struggle to see it play out any other way. For God’s way to be the best, it needs to “win”.
This year, the Los Angeles Dodgers were baseball’s best team. They were best on paper and most feared. They had the best players in the league. And they had the best statistics and the best record. Yet they didn’t even make it to the World Series.
We define best in so many ways until winning a trophy is on the table. Then victory is the only measurement that counts to us.
Rome killed their way to victory. They must be the best. The only way for Jesus to be the best is, I guess, to do the same. To become the king the people despise.
On the other hand, Jesus had the votes. The people preferred him. In a representative democracy, Jesus could’ve been elected president or prime minister.
[Now, of course, he doesn’t want that job, either. Which, to some people, makes him the most qualified for it.]
Powerless
Way back at the beginning of Luke’s gospel, when the Adversary confronts Jesus in the wilderness, what does he offer? Power. Control. Over everything. The opportunity for Jesus to do things the easy way. To control through force, declare victory, and claim the whole world as his own.
And Jesus rejects it. It is anathema to the gospel that Jesus offers.
So what does Jesus offer?
We see in him a ministry that is full of grace and generosity and mercy and forgiveness. He is constantly restoring and encouraging people to connect to love and participate in something bigger than themselves.
Something that goes beyond bloodlines. Race. And nation!
He invites them to redefine family away from the nuclear family and toward one based on who you connect with while following Jesus. Like seeing kinship in the people following the same path.
He invites us to be part of a global project that requires the best of us. It requires sacrifice in love and the ability to dream and persevere and challenge forces that are anathema to the gospel.
A global project that relies on faith, not force.
Jesus is crucified as an insurrectionist between two insurrectionists. And one of these joins in the mocking of Jesus alongside those soldiers he would just as soon kill.
But the other one testifies to who Jesus is. He hopes that Jesus will be merciful to him because he doesn’t deserve mercy. But he believes Jesus is love. And because of that, mercy is actually on the table.
The faith of Christ, in God and in humanity, puts the love of God within reach. Even on the cross. Even among killers and coup-planners. Prostitutes and tax collectors. Fishermen and healers. Shepherds and farmers. Sinners and saints.
The love of God is within reach. The mercy of God is possible. Hope is here!
It doesn’t storm in with an army to drive out its opponents. It isn’t won on the field of battle or by gridiron gladiators. Jesus didn’t enter Jerusalem on a warhorse, but a colt. He is no warrior king, but servant of all, a Son of Humanity.
Not force: faith.
Several years ago, I took Tripp Fuller’s lead and “dropped the G.” I stopped talking about the Kingdom of God, where the seat of power is taken by the almighty in all His power. And I replaced that with the vision of God’s Kin-dom—a community of common people, bound as a human family.
That we might live committed to love and sacrifice for each other. Not centered on hierarchies and order. Or ruling and domination. And not about who has the guns, the fire power. Or who can overpower others or even who has the greater numbers.
The Kin-dom is about love and compassion and commitment to one another. That we are building something worth advancing and loving and supporting.
Together we are building something that doesn’t need defending.
It doesn’t need powerful men with their weapons and their way.
It needs people. And community. To be a community for all:
All Peoples, all races, all creeds, all kinds, all classes, all beliefs, all experiences, and people from all over the world who have so much to offer to each other, to a common purpose, a common world, a common life together.
That is what we build. That is what we aspire toward.
This is a community, a neighborhood. It is a commitment and a population. But most importantly, it is where God’s love is the way. It is our currency, language, and commitment. Our strength, vision, and purpose.
So may our faith inspire this neighborhood to live as God’s divine Kin-dom. May that kindred love empower us to serve with grace, courage, and compassion where need is greatest. And let this all be a sign of Christ’s generous heart, human love, and divine mercy. Amen.