The Power of God
A sermon preached with the people of St. John’s Episcopal Church in Oakland, California.
Here’s how I imagine the AP News push notifications leading up to the Gospel account we just heard would sound:
Breaking: Judean religious authorities arrest Jesus of Nazareth, leader of dynamic, fast-growing movement seen as threat to established religious power, in garden outside Jerusalem.
Breaking: In surprise move, court of Judean high priest Caiaphas sends imprisoned local leader to seat of Roman occupation, accused of treason against the empire.
Breaking: Jesus of Nazareth trial scheduled for tomorrow morning; Roman Governor Pontius Pilate will preside. Follow live updates here.
And here we are, following live updates of the Gospel of John, taking place within a complex geopolitical web of power, in a far-flung occupied territory of a vast empire. Everyone in this scene — the Judean leaders, the crowd outside, the governor — their behavior and their decisions are driven by power; the desire to gain, or hold onto as much of it as possible.
Everyone except, of course, Jesus of Nazareth. He is not subject to that desire.
Because when Jesus speaks of power; of majesty; of glory. Of Kingship. He is not talking about the trappings of power and privilege in our geopolitical reality.
He is talking about the deconstruction of that reality altogether.
The temple fallen. The humble lifted up. The hungry filled with good things. The rich sent empty away.
I don’t think it’s as simple or easy as Jesus simply condemning earthly power, or those who hold it. I think it’s more like, Jesus is not interested in the power children of God claim to have, or claim to be owed, or claim to have lost. It’s more like, Jesus doesn’t even recognize it as … power.
And so, it’s as though this governor and this great teacher of ours are speaking two different languages in this famous exchange.
“My kingdom is not from this world,” Jesus says. “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews.”
“So you are a king?” Pilate responds. And Jesus, realizing Pilate has not heard, or believed, answers,, “You say that I am a king.”
Jesus, throughout his earthly ministry, like so many prophets before him, called those around him to step outside the reality we have built for ourselves. And then to take a look, and see the systems of power that surround us— the powers of this world — for what they are: very real, yes. Imperfect, definitely. But most importantly, temporal. Temporary. Systems of power we must understand, have no choice but to operate within, do good within, take care of one another within. But try to remember, they are temporal. So very much a product of and for this world.
Jesus would not, did not destroy or smite the government and governors that occupied his people. He did not call his followers to fight. Though he could have done all of these things.
Instead, Jesus came to us with only vulnerability and love. And that tells us something about the nature of the power of God.
I wonder about how Jesus might have presented this teaching to us, today. Maybe instead of the “kingdom of God,” he would ask us to imagine the “coming multinational conglomerate of God.” That the language of kingship makes some of our skin crawl, with that title’s associated bloody history … it is meant to challenge us, I think. In the same way imagining Jesus as the CEO of ubiquitous worldwide for-profit company might.
Because the idea is not that Jesus – that God — take on any of the stains of the power and patriarchy displayed in kingship of old or billionaireship of today. It’s that the illusions we hold that tell us there is something of or particularly close to God in the human-made power of kings and CEOs alike, simply melt away when the truth is fully revealed and fulfilled.
The truth that all along. From the beginning of time. The poor, the suffering, the sick, the imprisoned, the stranger. — the throne, the seat on the private jet — have been their inheritance too. The readily-available food, healthcare, education, shelter, leisure, and safety are their inheritance too. Because all of it. All of it . Has always belonged to God. And that is what the “already-but-not-yet multinational conglomerate of God” reveals. That is what the kingdom, or the reign, or the realm of God reveals.
We already see it. Glimpses of it. When children of God who have been marginalized and denied receive at least part of their rightful inheritance. And our job is, I think, to recognize it when we see it, and follow God’s lead as citizens of God’s realm, and help.
So, while entering this scene, rife with geopolitical intrigue and power negotiations might seem an odd way to roll into our Thanksgiving week, it might be just right. Because those news update push notifications will keep coming. This world, of temporal systems of power, is where we live.
And so, maybe this coming week is not a bad time at all — as it is set aside to give special thanks for what we have — to strengthen ourselves for our continued mission of serving those who do not benefit from the temporal powers that be, and do not enjoy a proper share. Not a bad time to remember God’s power sits there: where children of God are denied comfort, safety and love. On that throne. The throne that is not of this world. The throne of Christ the King.