The Strength of Vulnerability

a sermon for the 2nd Sunday in Lent

As Christians, all of us are both citizens of our nation and citizens of God’s kingdom here on Earth.  But what does that mean for how we live our lives?  And what does it mean for how we choose our leaders?

click here for the readings of the day Note: Due to technical difficulties, no audio recording is available.

 

 

Shhhh….Listen! Do you hear that? It’s the sound of peacefulness. It’s the sound of silence. It’s the sound of…..THE END OF THE PRIMARY. (One of them, at least.)

I don’t know about you all, but I’ve been feeling kind of shell-shocked over the past week. The politicians have been running all over the place, causing traffic jams and making it impossible to park downtown. My television has been constantly blaring out all sorts of negative ads about everyone. My home phone has been simply ringing off the hook… well it would if they still had hooks to ring off of. (Actually, we solved that particular problem when we discovered a neat way to zap robocalls. Now, anytime one calls it just rings once and then zap! and it stops.)

By my calculation, we are 261 days away from the sweet hour when the political ads will fade, the robo calls will cease, when we all will wait with bated breath to find out who we can complain about for the next four years. Many have said this before me, and many more will say it afterwards, is this the best way to choose our leader? I guess that all of the snarling, shouting, negative campaign ads must work or else they wouldn’t spend so much money on them. But it seems like none of the candidates really try to inspire us or appeal to our higher instincts. They simply pound on their chests and talk about how certain they are that they know what’s best for all of us, regardless of the issue. “Let’s build a wall. Let’s carpet bomb. Don’t send us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses any more.”

Of course, it is our right, duty and privilege as citizens of this country to vote for our leaders. In today’s second reading, Paul writes to the church he founded in Philippi about what it means to be a citizen of the kingdom of God.

…many live as enemies of the cross of Christ….Their end is destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.

According to Paul, there was a difference between earthly citizenship and being a citizen of heaven, and he should know. After all, he was a Roman citizen and a lawyer; he knew how to argue his case before Roman magistrates. At the same time, he was a disciple, and he knew that the ultimate measure of discipleship is how we are to live. As citizens of God’s kingdom, we conform our lives to the teachings of Jesus Christ and we look to him as our model for true leadership.

So what kind of leader was Jesus?

As he was heading to his nation’s capital, Jerusalem, Jesus was warned by some well intentioned Pharisees to run away and hide. If they were trying to help him, they were doing the minimum they could possibly do to nudge him in the right direction. After all, they couldn’t afford to be seen too close to him, especially if Herod was after him. They had families to feed, bills to pay. Hopefully, he’d just take their advice and move along.

Now Herod was a very powerful man, and he knew a thing or two about deceit and guile. He had just killed John the baptist and was coming after Jesus. We have a saying about leaders like Herod: “a fox guarding the hen house.”

• The fox says, “you can have things you can’t afford. Just put them on your credit card.” But in the end, it’s only the fox that gets fat and rich, and leaves you with bills you can’t pay.
• The fox says, “don’t worry about that bully in school. He’s not picking on you.” But in the end, he’ll pick on anyone he thinks is afraid of him.
• The fox says, “you can be a big shot in the company. All it takes is 70-80 hours a week.” But in the end, no matter how hard you work, or how many hours you give up with your family, they’ll still lay you off in a New York minute when times get tough.
• The fox says, “God doesn’t want us help those people. They look different, talk different, worship different from us.” But in the end, the fox doesn’t know God at all.

Jesus knew the power of the fox and he knew that he had to take a stand, even if he wouldn’t survive it. And in the end, the only way to overcome the hard power of an empire (and all those who benefit from it) is become more vulnerable – to stand against the hard power of the world through the soft power of God’s kingdom. Jesus challenged strength and power of Rome with vulnerability and love.

Barbara Brown Taylor, an Episcopal priest and a gifted preacher, describes it this way:

If you have ever loved someone you could not protect, then you understand the depth of Jesus’ lament. All you can do is open your arms. You cannot make anyone walk into them. Meanwhile, this is the most vulnerable posture in the world – wings spread, breast exposed – but if you mean what you say, then this is how you stand. …

… Jesus won’t be king of the jungle in this or any other story. What he will be is a mother hen, who stands between the chicks and those who mean to do them harm. She has no fangs, no claws, no rippling muscles. All she has is her willingness to shield her babies with her own body. If the fox wants them, he will have to kill her first; which he does, as it turns out. He slides up on her one night in the yard while all the babies are asleep. When her cry wakens them, they scatter.

She dies the next day where both foxes and chickens can see her – wings spread, breast exposed – without a single chick beneath her feathers. It breaks her heart . . . but if you mean what you say, then this is how you stand.

I know it sounds naïve, but I wonder what the world would be like if our leaders really were more like Jesus? What would they say to us about immigration, refugees, and peace?

In the Eucharist, Jesus offers up his body for us, like a mother hen. He stretches out his arms on the cross, to gather us beneath them – an invitation of pure love, and complete vulnerability.

Life as a citizen of heaven is diametrically opposed to the “foxiness” of our political process. Our identity is based not in our power and influence but in our relationship with God and with one another. As citizens of God’s kingdom, our leader isn’t some bully pounding their chest, shouting louder than the other person, forcing people to comply with their orders; not someone who stirs up our fears of the aliens among us. Our leader is the One who opens his arms wide, stands in the most vulnerable posture there is, and calls us all to gather beneath the cross – a posture of openness, a posture of welcome, a posture of love.

Thanks be to God!