The Resistance

Deuteronomy 18:15-20

Mark 1:21-28          

I don’t always read French philosophers, but when I do …

Michel Foucault said where there is power there is resistance. I think we see concrete examples of that, large and small, in the world all around us.

Think about a child who doesn’t want to go in his car seat. (I can speak with authority about this.) He arches his back and pushes against the straps as you try to buckle him in. The power you exert meets the child’s resistance.

If someone is pushing you to do something you don’t want to do, you push back. If someone is forcing something on you that you believe is wrong, you push back. You resist.

Resistance is a powerful thing. There have been a lot of resistance movements throughout history. For example, there was the Resistance led by Princess Leia against the Empire, which was clearly evil, using the Force for dark and evil purposes… Oh, right, that isn’t actually history.

In actual real life, though, there was the French Resistance, where citizens of occupied France pushed back against the Nazi power in their country. The members of the resistance found many subversive and creative ways to sabotage the Germans in their war efforts. The French have long been proud of the role they played in defeating the Nazis, showing that even when you don’t have conventional forms of power, there are other ways to resist.

Any war is a matter of power and resistance. One side pushes, the other side pushes back.

Where there is power there is resistance. We could just as easily say that resistance is another form of power, that power fights against power. But not everyone joins one side or another, right? Some just go with the flow.

I am thinking about power and resistance today because I think our two readings bring these issues to the surface: There is power and there is resistance. There is good and there is evil.

And I think Foucault is right when he says that power is everywhere, power is more amorphous than structured. Everyone has access to power, it’s just a matter of how you use it.

I think both our scriptures have something to say to us about power and resistance. Just as in so many cases we can think of in the world, when evil rears its head, resistance will emerge and fight against it.  

But, here is the flip side:  It is also true that whenever good rises up, there will be resistance to it. This is the matter that scripture so often contends with, and so sharply reveals to us.

Let’s take the story from Mark’s gospel. In Capernaum on the Sabbath day, Jesus entered the synagogue and taught. In typical Markan fashion, the text doesn’t tell us how this came about. Was Jesus invited to step up to the front and teach? Or did he just stand up and begin speaking? In any case, the people were astounded. They perceived the authority he possessed in his words.

Then, in just a matter of moments, they were able to see a demonstration of this authority. A man possessed by an unclean spirit, a demon, stood up in the synagogue. He started ranting and raving, screaming, saying shocking things, calling Jesus the Holy One.

Time out for a word about demons: One of the problems we have in reading the scriptures is that so much of it is impossible to translate. We can translate from Greek to English, but how do we translate different ways of understanding the world? Such as ancient understandings of power, brokenness, goodness and evil, as they are at work in the world? How do we impose our modern understanding of the world, in which science plays an important role, on an ancient story? How do we articulate the timeless truths that are in these stories, in spite of epic barriers?

These days when we read about exorcisms and healings we have other knowledge we can bring to it. A man who is said to be possessed by a demon might actually have a diagnosable disease. He might suffer from epilepsy, in which case his convulsions would be understood in that light. He might suffer from mental illness, with delusions that he expresses in ways that are terrifying to others. In our modern world, we may see these instances that are called demon possession differently. But we should be careful that we don’t use this knowledge to explain away the important message.

The gospels are not attempting to diagnose illness; they are endeavoring to describe a world in which evil is present, it is insidious. Evil infects some people so much that they are completely overwhelmed by it. We might think of some who suffer mental illness or addiction this way. For others it completely co-opts them, making them agents of evil. We might consider some infamous characters in history, like Hitler, in this way.

For most of us, though, the spirit of evil is a force that sometimes clouds our judgment and bends our wills. It is a force that resists when we try to do good; it hands us useful rationalizations when we need to justify our sins.

Jesus commanded the spirit to be silent, and the spirit obeyed. And the people were amazed.

Amazed, the text says, as it searches for a word that would be adequate to describe this whole unearthly experience. I wonder at the words the various translations use to describe the people’s response to Jesus. When you compare a number of different English translations you find the words astounded, amazed, astonished, shaken, surprised, overwhelmed, incredulous. Notice that it does not say overjoyed, glad, grateful. No, they are not yet ready to say that this is a good thing that has come into their midst.

And we know, from our reading of the scriptures, that many of them would never be ready to They would prefer to condemn the messenger to saying that this is a good message, a word of God, a good thing that has come into their midst. People don’t always greet the power of God with open hearts. They are resistant.

The scene that day in Capernaum is consistent with other scenes that played out many times before in cities and villages– even in the wilderness. When Moses led Israel out of slavery, they bitterly accused him of trying to kill them. Time and again, they mistrusted him, at one point even casting an idol out of gold which they set out to worship, in place of God. Moses brought a word of God and the people resisted. And the scriptures show it happening again and again.

When the prophet Elijah came to King Ahab and Queen Jezebel, warning them to repent, did they repent? No; they went after Elijah instead. Elijah brought a word of God and the king resisted.

When Jeremiah preached, when Ezekiel demonstrated, the people resisted. It seemed to be a pattern. When the power of God, the power of good, is present, there will be resistance.

Resistance, in and of itself, is neither good nor bad, it is only opposition, and it may oppose either good or bad. It may play out to good or bad effect. It is the nature of the world; as long as this world exists there will be tension between good and evil. And this is why God knew that the world would always need new messengers to bring God’s word, God’s power, to the people.

The book of Deuteronomy is one extended set of instructions Moses delivers to the people of Israel as they prepare to take possession of the land God has promised them. Among the many things Moses has to say to them, are instruction about how the nation of Israel will be constituted. This is where we hear of the leadership offices God will provide for them: there will be priests, there will be judges. There may be kings, although their power must be limited, because God is the true sovereign. And there will be prophets. It was in the constitution!

God knew that the people would need prophets.

Many hundreds of years later, Jesus of Nazareth came with words and signs and wonders – a new prophet in their midst. Indeed, we understand Jesus to be the fulfillment of all of the leadership offices – he is prophet, priest, judge, and king. Jesus came to his people and he met resistance.

The people resist and, as Moses’s words clearly suggest, the prophets will sometimes resist too. It is just as difficult to deliver a hard word as it is to receive one, and it is tempting for the prophets and the preachers of the world to soften it up, or just change it into something more palatable.

In the story of the prophet Elijah in the book of Kings, it says that when King Ahab encountered the prophet he said to him, “Is that you, you troubler of Israel?” I guess this king had nicknames for the people who worked for him, or maybe just for the ones he didn’t like. Ahab would have liked Elijah better if Elijah had a softer, gentler word for him. Not too long after that encounter, Queen Jezebel threatened to kill Elijah, and I think Elijah was more scared of Jezebel than he was of Ahab – with good reason.

It occurs to me that peddling a softer word might have been tempting for Elijah. After all, who doesn’t want to be liked? Or, at least, left to live. Nonetheless, he resisted the temptation.

All of this is simply to say that we need to beware of how we might be tempted to respond to a word of good as well as a word of evil. Just as our weekly confession is meant to remind us, we are all, every one of us, flawed human beings. One of our weaknesses is just not wanting to see that and accept it. And if someone holds a mirror up to us – whether a prophet, a preacher, a friend, or Jesus himself – we just might resent it.

This is our weakness, but that’s not the bottom line. You know we have a source of strength that is stronger than any weakness we might have: Christ with us and in us. and the bottom line is you and I can overcome all things through Christ who strengthens us.

photo: The Resistance. (Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1833469)

Those Who Say Yes, Pt 2

Jonah 3:1-5, 10

Mark 1:14-20

If there was ever a case to be made for the importance of keeping things in context, I think these two itty-bitty readings do it. These are two little snippets of larger stories; reading them today makes me think of looking at a snapshot of a happy couple on their wedding day, walking out of the church in their fine clothes, with huge grins on their faces, to the joyful gathering of friends and family tossing rice or birdseed or rose petals at them – then saying, this is the story of a marriage.

No, it’s not. It is the start of a marriage. It is a moment in a marriage. But there is so much more, many more moments, and you and I know quite well that they won’t all be that happy.

This couple won’t have these ecstatic grins pasted on their faces for the next however-many years, til death do them part. There will be plenty of down times: moments when they hurt each other, moments when they fail each other, maybe abandon each other. They said yes – I do – to one another, but there will be plenty of moments over the years when they forget those promises they made.

These two little stories from scripture are like that. They give us that happy, blissful moment when these characters said yes. God said “Repent!” and the citizens of Ninevah turned around and said “Yes, Lord.” Jesus walking along the lakeshore called out to Simon and Andrew, James and John, “Come with me!” and they dropped their nets and followed him.

And it might be that your reaction on first hearing these little stories was surprise. That is a perfectly legitimate reaction. These are surprising responses to great demands from someone they don’t even know. What would make the people of Ninevah say yes to the voice of Jonah, a foreigner, a man who clearly doesn’t like them (you know if you read the rest of the story, anyway), bringing a message from a foreign God? Wouldn’t you think they would at least need more information?

What would make these Galilean fishers, family men, business men, say yes to this man from a neighboring village? What would make them drop their nets, leave their fathers, and not even look back? Wouldn’t you think they might want to discuss this first?

I mean, it does happen this way sometimes, that someone says yes to God the first time they hear God calling. It does happen sometimes that someone says yes to Jesus the first time they meet him; but often it takes more time. And whether it happens in an instant or over time, whether you say yes immediately or have to be dragged into a relationship, is not that important. I don’t think it is the essential point of the stories, to tell you the truth.

I think the essence of these stories is that there are pivotal moments in our lives journeys, decision points in which we must say yes … or not.

Last week we also talked about people who say yes to God, with two other stories – the story of Samuel and the story of Nathanael. Call stories. The scriptures are full of these call stories, because this is the story of us and our relationship with God: God calls, we answer. God invites, we respond. God acts, we react. This is the story of our faith.

In some Christian traditions people are expected to have a personal conversion story. It is expected that, when asked, they can tell you the day and the circumstances in which they became a Christian, when they were “born again.” It is assumed that they could say, for example, when I was 16 years old, at my youth group meeting the week before Christmas, I gave my life to Christ.

Or perhaps, it happened one night in April when I was 30 years old. I was a broken man. I had lost my job, my marriage was over. I was standing at the gas station, pumping gas in my car, not knowing where I would go or what I would do and suddenly I heard Jesus talking to me. And my life changed at that moment.

It happens this way sometimes – but not all the time.

In reality, most people who have grown up in a church family do not have a born-again experience. This is something that our puritan forefathers and mothers actually fretted about. They knew what it was like to have an experience of conversion, because they had turned away from the church of England to form a new church. They left their homeland for the sake of their faith; they really knew the dramatic impact of such a conversion and the commitment it required of them.

They feared that their children could never understand this if they didn’t have a similar experience, so they tried to create the circumstances that would invite such an experience, hoping that their children would find out what it was like to repent, to turn their lives over to Christ, to be born again. Some did and some did not.

Eventually, the reconsidered their expectations. As powerful as may be to have such a conversion experience, a moment of decision in which you say yes to Christ, I have a few concerns about the whole thing.

First, I would say that the expectation that this is the only way to be able to call yourself a Christian is flawed, and harmful. I have been on the receiving end of this expectation, being told that if I could not say the moment I became a Christian then I am not a Christian, or as they might say, I am not saved.

This is very legalistic and narrow-minded thinking. It tries to impose a one-size-fits-all evangelism, but all you have to do is read the scriptures to know that God does not impose a one-size-fits-all expectation. Why should we, then? To say there is a clear set of steps one must go through to be “saved” is to try to control the power of God. Nice, if you can do it. But, crazy to think you can do it.

Another concern I have is related to this term that is so often used – to be saved. This idea of a conversion experience all too often seems to be about only one thing: personal salvation. In all these stories, like the 16-year-old who recites the Jesus prayer in youth group or the woman who walks off the street into a church one day and sees the light, they too often suggest that the point of all of this is to be saved – period.

But when we read the call stories in scripture, is that what they are all about? Does the boy Samuel, whose story we read last week, say yes to God so he can be saved? Do Simon and Andrew, James and John, say yes to Jesus so they can go to heaven? Is that really what it’s about?

The stories in scripture, where God calls someone to God’s side, always have a bigger picture in mind. God has plans for God’s people, plans which are bigger than their individual lives, certainly; plans which are bigger than anything they could do or imagine doing on their own. When God calls someone, it is not just to conversion, it is a call to discipleship. God calls us to follow, to become workers in the vineyard. God calls us to be a part of God’s great work of bringing God’s kingdom to the world.

The moment when we say yes is not an end in itself, it is just the beginning. Like the moment a man and woman say “I do,” is just the beginning of a journey, the moment we say yes to God we are embarking on a journey – a journey in which you will be asked to give your heart to this world and all who live in it, to the concerns that are God’s concerns: peace, justice, love.

When you say yes to God you are saying yes to all the things God says yes to. And no to the things God says no to.

It concerns me that we might not recognize that our yes to God is not merely for ourselves. Saying yes to God is never something you do merely for yourself.

There is one other thing about the idea of a conversion experience that concerns me: that is the notion, the suggestion, that it is something that happens once, like a big bang that changes everything for always. Such a belief denies the value of the way so many of us actually experience God’s call.

I have never had what some would call a born-again experience. But I have had many, many moments of saying yes to God. I have had a few big, momentous ones, and other smaller ones.

I know I have had these experiences of being called by God, because they have scared me. I know these moments have been moments of God in my life because they have called on me to get outside of my comfort zone, to get beyond my own selfish desires. They have called me to serve, to risk, to love unconditionally.

I know these times God has invited me to be born again in Christ, to step outside of myself and serve for Christ’s sake, because even if they don’t meet someone else’s definition of being born again, they have given me glimpses of the joy that comes from living near to God, the deep peace that comes from trusting obedience to God. I know these moments of saying yes to God have been true faith experiences because they have made visible to me the power of the Holy Spirit in carrying me over to places I could not go on my own, giving me words I could not say, and actions I could not take without God’s help.

And each time I have said yes to God’s call I have known that it probably won’t be the last time I need to say yes. I will be called on to say yes again and again and again, because I am still a flawed, imperfect sinner. I will still make mistakes, I will still sometimes choose the broad road that leads to destruction rather than the narrow road that leads to life. To be a follower of Christ I will need to die anew every day and be born again, every day, in Christ; to say once again, “Yes, Lord. Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.

May you hear God’s voice calling you to come and follow. May you say yes to God’s call. May you awaken every day to say yes once again, to serve the Lord with open heart and mind.