2 Corinthians 12:2-10
Mark 6:1-13
“The Power of Weakness”
I don’t think that much of the Christian Church today feels very strong or powerful. Whether in conversation with Presbyterian colleagues at General Assembly last month, or with ecumenical colleagues here in Regina or through the Canadian Council of Churches, I often hear that clergy and church communities are struggling and feeling somewhat discouraged in their ministries.
They worry that the number of people involved is decreasing and the level of involvement is going down too. There seem to be fewer resources available for ministry – both in terms of money and people. There are many small congregations without the resources to employ ministry personnel, and the big church buildings we set up in the 20th century are becoming expensive to maintain.
Many communities are focusing their attention on survival, and the thought of going out and sharing the good news about Jesus Christ in word or loving action (like we read about in the Gospel text today) feels daunting and dangerous.
Part of the problem, of course, is that for a while in the church’s history, we became quite powerful. During Christendom, churches in many parts of the world became associated with political power, often becoming the official religion, imposing our faith and culture on others, and enjoying the luxury of living in societies that deferred to church norms and ways of life.
This is no longer the world that we live in. And, as difficult as the end of Christendom continues to be for Canadian Christians today, I don’t think it’s a bad thing that it’s ending. In fact, I think it will be our only chance of becoming the movement of Christ-followers that I believe Jesus was trying to start back in the 1st century.
The Gospel text this morning gives us a glimpse into the kind of faith community Jesus was forming. It didn’t involve buildings or hierarchies or anything like political power. In contrast, the Jesus Way involved vulnerability and trust, combined with the authority to overcome evil, hatred, and pain with the power of love and service.
Christian leaders should take note that as gifted and talented and spirit-filled as Jesus was, he was not universally loved, accepted, or respected. Despite the fact that he preached wisdom and grace and performed miracles that astounded many people, the people from his own hometown questioned and then rejected him. And that didn’t seem to worry him. Jesus just kept at his mission, moving on to other places and communities.
I think it’s an important part of the story that Jesus sends out his disciples two by two without any supplies. They are supposed to go and do the kinds of things that Jesus was doing, and he gives them “authority” to do it. By his word, they will have the power to heal and to help, to preach and to bless, and the evil powers of the world will be no match for them.
But their power won’t come from money or resources or political power. They will have no more special privilege or influence than Jesus himself had, and he orders them not to take anything with them for the journey. No bread, no bag, no money in their belts. Not even an extra tunic.
He sends them out, not in power, but in vulnerability. He sends them out not to overpower, but to love. Wherever they are not welcomed, they are simply instructed to keep moving along to the next place. And by God’s grace, they cast out many demons and anoint with oil many who are sick and cure them.
I titled this morning’s sermon, “The Power of Weakness” because “weakness” was the word used in the NRSV translation of the 2nd Corinthians passage. But when I think about the disciples going out, they weren’t exactly going out in “weakness.” In fact, they went out with the power and authority of God to do amazing things. They weren’t weak, but they were willing to be vulnerable – vulnerable to hunger, to need, to rejection, and even to violence.
Most of us don’t like feeling vulnerable, and I think that applies to our churches and ministries too. We want to make sure we have enough money and resources for ourselves before we spend what we have on mission or helping others. We want to stick with our familiar programs and church activities rather than trying new things that take us out of our comfort zones. We want to focus our attention and prayer on the needs of our community, rather than becoming overwhelmed with the problems of the world that seem so unmanageable.
But Jesus is calling us to embrace this kind of vulnerability as we participate in enacting his mission in the world. Here at First Church, we’ve been doing it by sponsoring refugees before we have all the money raised for their support. We’ve been doing it by stepping out of the building to make and serve lunches for hungry people in our city, and engaging with and getting to know those same people in the process.
We’ve been doing it by advertising our desire to welcome all people regardless of gender or sexual orientation, and publicly proclaiming that God’s Love Includes Everyone. And we’ve been doing it by welcoming new people, with new ideas and different experiences into our church, and allowing their presence and gifts to transform who we are. Or at least, perhaps, we are starting to do these things, opening ourselves in vulnerability to embody Christ’s love in the church and in the community.
When the Apostle Paul wrote his second letter to the Christian Church at Corinth in the 1st century, he was struggling as a Christian leader and especially in opposition to other leaders that he called “Super Apostles.” These were opponents of Paul who were preaching and promoting a different kind of gospel message to the people. Paul writes to the Corinthian Christians to warn them about these false and corrupt apostles and to urge them to keep on following his advice and teaching.
I think Paul calls his opponents “Super Apostles” because of their boasting, because they think they are “so great!” They boast that they are Hebrews, descendants of Abraham. And presumably, they boast about their success in ministry, their preaching, their healing, and their power over the evil forces of the world. In contrast, and in response to their boasting, Paul boasts about his weaknesses.
But I’m not sure that the word translated as “weakness” from the Greek astheneia means what we think it means. Usually when we say “weakness” we’re talking about things we are unable to do. You may be too weak to lift a heavy object, or not strong enough to run a marathon, or unable because of lack of training or natural giftedness to accomplish some other task.
Commentator David Fredrickson explains that “astheneia” may mean something more like “coming undone” rather than “weakness” as we usually understand it: “In reference to bodies… the root sthen indicates a holding together or cohesion. To be strong means to be self-contained and self-identical, even as the world is falling apart around you. Astheneia, on the other hand, means coming undone.
“So when Paul confesses in 2 Corinthians 12:5 that he only boasts in his weaknesses, he says what must have been puzzling to his readers and utterly unintelligible to the super-apostles had they ever gotten their hands on this text. He boasts [not about his strength and his keeping it together in the face of persecutions and trials, but about] his coming undone.
“And when “the Lord” in 2 Corinthians 12:9 replies to Paul’s prayer saying “for power is perfected in astheneia,” this response does not mean that the Lord demonstrates the Lord’s power by having the lowly and incapable Paul demonstrating vividly the huge gap between divine and human power. Rather, a new definition of “power” is in formation, one that prefers to believe that there is strength in falling apart… Or to say it in way I can almost understand: power is made perfect in loving.”
It makes me think of the times when my heart breaks for the pain and suffering of a neighbour, and I can’t stop my voice from shaking or the tears from running down my cheeks. Perhaps it makes you think of a time when the injustice inflicted on someone you knew made you feel like exploding with anger and protest.
Love means opening our hearts to be affected by the pain, suffering, and need of those around us. It’s not just about handing out charitable gifts out of duty, habit, or an intellectual understanding that such generosity it right and good. But love means becoming vulnerable enough to care so deeply about the other that we are figuratively “coming undone or falling apart” in the knowledge of the wrong things that need to be made right.
Paul talked about having been given a “thorn in his flesh to keep him from becoming too elated” and he attributes that thorn to Satan. But no matter how much Paul prays for relief, God doesn’t take the thorn away.
It makes me wonder if the thorn isn’t actually a bad thing. Maybe the thorn is actually the aching love Paul feels for those he is called to minister to – his empathy for those who so desperately need to know God’s love in Jesus Christ. Because it is that love, that vulnerability, that willingness to come undone at the pain and sorrow of the world, that spurs him on to do his part in carrying out Christ’s mission.
The Christian Church today, and our congregation here at First Church, may not feel particularly strong or powerful to fix all the problems of the world, putting an end to hatred, violence, injustice, poverty, and need, and turning the hearts of all the people towards God’s love in Jesus Christ.
But our power does not come from money, or great resources, or political influence, or any other worldly power. It comes from the authority of Jesus Christ, who empowers us and sends us out in vulnerability and love. And when we go, like the disciples, I am confident that many demons will be cast out, and many sick and suffering people will be healed.
And when, like Paul, the vulnerability of loving feels like a thorn in our flesh, let us hear God’s message to Paul which is also for us: “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness,” in astheneia, in coming undone, in falling apart for the love of the world and all God’s children.