Twenty Ninth Sunday

Twenty Ninth Sunday
October 22, 2006

“Because of his affliction he shall see the light in fullness of days" (Isaiah 53:10-11): "We have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens" (Hebrews 4:14-16) "Can you drink the cup that I drink?" (Mark 10:35-45)

The readings this Sunday suggest a meditation on the relationship between power and weakness in the kingdom of heaven. Isaiah articulates the disillusionment of the people with their priestly class, unable to lead them into anything beyond additional suffering and disappointment. After 2500 years of more of the same, "solutions" based on war and power politics, we are no closer to peace and security than we ever were. The prophet instead anticipates a different kind of high priest who will lead by submission and non-violence. God's self-sacrifice makes all other sacrifices meaningful. Together with the Son of Man, we the people of God become the high priest of renunciation and love.

Jesus' disciples ask him to grant them anything they desire. Instead of granting their wish he replies with a question. Are they prepared to participate in his powerlessness over pain, loss and death? They say they are and he tells them that nevertheless, their wish is not his to grant. Mature adult spirituality is less about asking for favors from God and more about living in God's life. Jesus again addresses the mistaken notion of his followers that their loyalty somehow guarantees a high place in the kingdom of heaven (as if there are "high" and "low" places there at all). Christ, the high priest, in a great reversal of the order of things, forgoes all divine power and authority to join the weakest and least of all. From now on this is the pattern for anyone who desires a place in the kingdom of heaven. There the powerful become weak and the weak become strong.

Our God is a God of weakness and love. We are reminded of this every time we see the innocent suffering, brutalized and sacrificed. God does not will this to "teach us something" as we often say, but suffers and grieves with us. Our pain and weakness are our redemption from the human condition, bringing our persecutors with us. There is no room in this new world for vengeance or retribution even if we often quite understandably desire this. I have had ample opportunity over the past seven years to think about this truth, observing myself and others attempting to assimilate the reality of advancing weakness and powerlessness of every kind. I have been tempted to strike bargains with God, wishing to be granted a return of former power and strength. This approach does not work any better in individual spiritual life than it does on a global scale. Most of us will have many chances to accept our weakness, and most of us will not do it until forced to by some "untreatable" circumstance beyond our control. Jesus' kingdom is ours when we like him participate in his renunciation of power, where true spiritual power is to be found. Easy to say, difficult to learn.