Handing off Power

 

Ever seen a politician working the crowd, shaking hands, trying to have that personal touch to win your vote? Or maybe a celebrity on a book tour when they know they only have a limited amount of time to be in that spot and want to meet as many of their fans as possible? 

I had the privilege of sitting down beside Douglas Cardinal, famous architect and recipient of the Order of Canada last week.  He loved having an audience to tell the story of how he wasn’t allowed to study architecture in Canada but had to go to a university in Texas instead.  The interesting thing is that his assistant was watching the time so he didn’t have to.  Important people usually have someone along who is watching the time, keeping them moving so they can get to their next appointment on their very packed schedule. 

Just like the disciples hustling Jesus to get to the house of Jairus in time to save the life of his daughter.  There wasn’t a moment to spare.  This was an important person, and the fact that he came humbly to fetch Jesus, had boosted Jesus’ importance in the eyes of the crowds surrounding him.  Jesus had hit the big time!

Welcome to one of the longest stories Mark wrote about Jesus.  Usually, Mark kept his writing simple, straightforward and a bit blunt.  But in this passage, Mark went into great detail.  He described the emotional state of Jairus as well as the woman desperate for healing, and the family members who had started the funeral rites for Jairus’ daughter. Mark quoted what the woman with the hemorrhage said to herself, and even quoted Jesus speaking in Aramaic!  This story made quite an impression on Mark.  

It highlights a contrast between the high-ranking, powerful religious authority and the nameless, poverty-stricken woman.  But there’s also the similarity between them, they both are looking for healing, the woman for herself, Jairus for his daughter.

Both the woman and the girl were considered unimportant in a patriarchal society.  Girls were only potential brides to carry on their future husband’s line, and often had no choice in whom they married. If they couldn’t produce babies, and a woman who was constantly bleeding would not be able to have a baby, they also would be seen as a burden on society.  The woman would be seen as untouchable by both her husband and the rest of society.  That meant solitary confinement, and if she was going to go out in public, she had to stay away from all men, not easy when living in a bustling town. She certainly would not be allowed in a synagogue, nor would she be allowed in the presence of a popular Rabbi or Jairus either, for that matter.  Yet she dared do the unthinkable, leave her house and sneak into the crowd, hoping she could figure out a way to get him to heal her on the sly.  It would not have been easy in the hustle to not get bumped or stepped on, and having the courage to work her way into the crowd to grab the hem of his robe would have taken some effort!

It’s fascinating to note that despite the urgency of Jesus getting to Jairus’ home, he stopped immediately to figure out what had happened.  The disciples, just like assistants to politicians, tried to get him moving, but he wasn’t going to budge.  His priority was not their priority.  He wanted to talk to the desperate person who reached down in the dust to touch his robe.  Much to her surprise, he did not condemn her, he commended her, admiring her faith.  Then and only then did he take off and heal Jairus’ daughter.

All well and good to have lofty priorities and to take time to really care for the people his culture thought were insignificant, but what would that look like here today in Canada?  Do we know anyone who lives or lived by those principles?

As a matter of fact, there was at least one person who we all know of.  He was the son of a United Church minister, grew up in the church, and spent his life caring about the people of Canada who were not necessarily wealthy or powerful.  He became a diplomat and an ambassador for Canada.  He worked for the United Nations in their early days, and his efforts to set up UN Peace Keepers to go to conflict zones netted him the first Nobel Prize Canada had ever been awarded, and it was for Peace.  He came home after being the president of the UN General Assembly, and entered politics.  Sometimes it went well, and he established the Canada Pension Plan; a universal Medicare system; a unified Armed Forces; and a new national flag which took 6 months of nasty arguing and debating before our current flag was accepted by both Conservatives and Liberals.  He also championed women’s rights, bilingualism, immigration, minimum wage and multiculturalism.  Four years after he resigned as the 14^th Prime Minister of Canada, his funeral was presided over by the United Church Moderator.  His friends and family called him Mike, but the world knew him as Lester B. Pearson, and The United Church knew him as a man who could be both conciliatory and dictatorial, but who did his best to live up to the values Jesus taught.

We don’t have to be politicians or famous architects to live out the values that Jesus taught.  Many of us will be volunteering on Canada Day, flipping pancakes, serving popcorn, pouring tea or coffee, riding in parades, and helping our neighbors find a good spot to see the fireworks.  There will be opportunities to make time for someone like the woman touching Jesus’ robe or the little girl.  May we notice when we bring Christ’s healing love to those we meet, through the strength of Jesus, the love of God and inspiration of the Spirit.  Amen

Who’s got the power?

When I read Paul’s story, I immediately thought of that commercial with the pink energizer bunny, and the jingle, “I’ve got the Power”, resonating with the drum beating.  And on days like we’ve had, with the heat beating down on us like an everlasting drum, well, it’s hard to feel energized.  I remember a few years ago hearing that it was so hot in Italy, people were burning their hands when they went to touch their doorknobs.  Not so hard to imagine after this week.  The energy to work in such temperatures is hard to muster.  Even construction crews are working shorter shifts on the rigs and ending their days early to prevent heat exhaustion.  The power has gone out of us as we wait and pray for rain and a break from the sun.

Power is one of those things we don’t like to talk about much.  We are fine with talking about power in terms of electricity, and about power of politicians way over some place far away.  We’re much less comfortable with the power we might have.  Or might need.  Or might be abusing or might have abused in the past. Psychologists talk about three needs that every person has, competence, connection and autonomy.  Autonomy is the power to make decisions and choices for oneself.  But sometimes that power can step towards making decisions and choices for others.  Which is a good thing.  I don’t want to make decisions on where to build a generating station in the neighborhood, and I’m quite glad to delegate that to provincial and municipal leaders.  Where the danger lies is when the folks we delegate the power to make choices forget that they are to make choices for all and think only about the best choices for themselves.

We saw that in our previous town council.  I fear we are seeing that in our provincial leadership that ignores the call to have residential school history in our curriculum, public parks for people who can’t afford resorts, protected areas like our Rockies to stay safe from coal mining, accessible health care, fair dealings for health professionals and teachers and more.

But what does that have to do with us?  And more importantly, the scriptures?  Jesus had power to heal those who needed healing and yet when he was back home where he had grown up, in the midst of all the negative, critical, verbal attacks, his power was lessened.  The home crowd had power over him.  With their nitpicking, they exerted their power over Jesus.  They wanted to put him in his place.  They wanted him to remember he was nothing special, just a small-town boy with delusions of grandeur that he didn’t deserve and certainly shouldn’t inflict on them.

Can you imagine telling someone that they shouldn’t make the world a better place, or even worse, that they can’t and will never make the world a better place?  We would never do that, especially not to a loved one.  And yet, we often do.  I find something wrong in the way this person waters their plants or how that person drives their car.  I easily slip into judgement and when that judgement is spoken without any loving intentions, it robs the power from the person hearing it.

Judgement is addictive and judgement is easy.  It leaves me feeling more powerful than the person I am judging.  I meet my need for autonomy but in a way that competes with my neighbor and erodes my love for my neighbor.  Judgement is why the residential schools were so toxic for so many, and why the conversation about them is so hard today.

Paul talked about another way.  Instead of competing for power, he recognized that it was a competition he could never win.  And he would know.  As Saul, the persecutor of the Christians, he had a fierce reputation for being so judgmental and disparaging that the Temple authorities gave him a letter empowering him to go out and not just judge, but condemn any who were corrupting their faith with the teachings of Jesus.  They saw their faith as competing for power over people’s souls and sent Saul to stop it.  To say he was knocked off his high horse is putting it mildly.  Saul went blind and had to humbly ask for healing from the very people he had been sent to judge.  The people he thought he had power over, were the ones with the power over him.

He learned firsthand that it wasn’t his power, or the power of Ananias, his healer, that made him able to see again.  And it wasn’t a competition between him and Ananias over who had more power or more holiness.  It was God’s power that healed him.  This was the key.  

God used Paul more when Paul was weak, than when Paul tried to do it all himself.  God’s power flowed through Paul, transforming his weakness into a testimony for this different way of living that continues to inspire and transform.

There are days when I feel as weak and judgmental as Paul, and I wonder if I am making a difference.  There are days when I hear stories about the abuse of power that break my heart.  And then there are the stories that encourage and empower me.  The fellow who drove all the way from Edmonton and ended up coming back for seconds, buying 11 strawberry shortcakes!  The angel in our congregation who shared 8 shortcakes with her apartment complex, the neighbor who bought three to say thank you to friends despite being uncomfortable with this different way of doing our tea, the folks who paid so others could eat and the many saints who worked hard not just to serve up 80 desserts, but also to stay patient and calm despite the hustle and bustle and dreadful heat.  Especially them who worked hard to be nice to each other, apologize when necessary, and keep focused on loving and serving.

Jesus didn’t want power over his family and hometown.  He didn’t want power over his disciples.  He didn’t give up his power to the naysayers and complainers, and he didn’t punish them for their insolence.  He gave his power to all in the form of stories and healings.  He gave his power to his disciples, telling them to go out and share the power of love with everyone they met.  He told them that nothing could take that power of love from them, not even the dust of a judgmental community.  If you want to read a great article on the power of that love, and how it continues today, check out Wilma Derksen’s interview in this month’s Broadview Magazine.

And ask yourself, where do you get your power?  How are you doing with the struggle to not be competitive?  And who will you empower to go out and make a difference in the world?  God has sent you to the people, just as Jesus sent the 12, and just as Paul in his weakness was sent to empower all who heard or read his story.  May we find many opportunities to do just that.  Amen.

Living in Extraordinary Times

There is a saying that is attributed to the Chinese, “may you live in interesting times”, and it is not a blessing but a curse.  And we have been living in historic and interesting times.  There will be many books written on 2020, and it was certainly a relief to hear that last Wednesday’s events were undisturbed by violence.  Could we please get back to being bored and uninterested in US politics for at least 10 years?  And could we please get on to dealing with issues closer to home?

History disrupters like toxic politicians and pandemics are unpleasant to endure, but not all history disrupters are a detriment to society.  Our scripture today depicts Jesus as such a history disrupter, calling the disciples to become fishers of people rather than fishers of Lake Galilee.  Peter, James and the Zebedee brothers knew how to entangle the local fish, tilapia, which is currently my favorite to dine on.  They didn’t know much about catching people.  Yet Jesus came along, and in Mark’s version said a few words and totally disrupted their lives.  

What a disruption!  Not only did he convince them to quit their jobs, but he also convinced them to walk away from their family obligations.  He did it even though his mentor and predecessor, John the baptiser, had been arrested and was being held indefinitely without trial in Herod’s dungeon.

They followed, despite their previous loyalties, despite their secure careers and family obligations, and despite being completely untrained and unskilled in the ways of catching people.  Jesus didn’t care about that.  Jesus knew that they would be able to learn what they needed to learn.  Jesus knew that it wouldn’t be a safe occupation for them or him, but it would be a disruption of historic proportions.  Did he know that they would become so transformed by this experience that they would risk anything and go anywhere for the sake of his message?  Did he know that his teachings would be spread far beyond the shores of Galilee?  Did he know that they would end up travelling, from Israel to Rome, India, Greece, Spain and some say even to the British Isles?  His call was to ask them to commit to following him and learning how to gather people in.  All the rest was not in anyone’s intentions.

Paul’s writing is a similar call to holy disruption. To think of time not as interesting or cursed but as extraordinary, as blessed.  It echoes the idea that the kingdom of heaven is among us right now.  It shakes our understanding of time being not just the minutes, hours and days of our lives, what the ancient Greeks call Chronos, but seconds of significance.  The sense of sacred time, Kairos, is one in which we see God’s presence calling us and disrupting us away from interesting to extraordinary.  To see every moment as a sacred challenge.

How do we live into that sacred challenge?  For starters, not as celibates, despite Paul’s wording there.  Sorry Paul, I’m married and I know that it has transformed me in many God-called ways.  But seeing our marriages as sacred calls into extraordinary love, as God loved us, is one way of living into that sacred challenge.  And it’s not a call to a self-centred life either.  So many folks are tied up in despair because all they focus on is themselves.  Others see life as essentially pointless, without meaning or purpose.  Their depression and cynicism can be contagious, leading again to a focus on nothing but themselves.  Many feel angry at how powerless they are, that the world is conspiring to get them, and they must protect themselves at all costs, with Molotov cocktails, pipe bombs, guns and racism.  Still others are convinced that their job is to convert other people to the truth that they alone possess, by any means possible.  

Many folks in their cynicism and despair and anger and fear do not know that they are living in extraordinary times.  All they experience day after day are interesting times.  Jesus called the fishermen in similar circumstances, and Jesus calls us today to fish for humans who are living in pain and isolation.  How do we do that?

I’m reminded of the Seventh Day Adventists who called the church the other day asking if I read the bible.  They told me that they did good works.  “Us too!” I chirped.  They helped the homeless.  “Of course”, I agreed.  They connected with shut-ins, “so do we!”  And they worshipped God together.  “Every week,” I replied.  They even dropped off books to our front door about the end times coming.  “We give away free books too, and food and even clothing.”  “Really?”  They asked.  “You are talking to a church, you know, and I am the minister here.”  Such ways leave people feeling suspicious and 

One commentator remarked that we can remember how fishermen caught that delicious tilapia in Galilee.  They didn’t use fishing rods.  They didn’t cast lines with carefully tied lures.  They didn’t attach spoons or red wigglers or feathers.  All these trick the fish into thinking they are biting on a tasty treat.  Galileans used nets, straightforward rope constructions with no pointy bits.  Nets that are obviously nets and easily seen.  Nets that can pull people from the chaos of their wild lives into new community.  Nets that disrupt mundane existance in ways that will enrich others.  Nets that pull people out of the murky, muddy depths of despair into new ways of seeing, new ways of seeking, and sometimes new ways of self-sacrificing.

We are called out of interesting times into extraordinary times.  We have been caught up by the nets of God into a new reality.  It is our calling, our opportunity, and our privilege to do the same for those that are suffering in this world.  May we hear the call and answer with fortitude, generosity, wisdom, and courage.