Immediate Word

Dear Fellow Preacher,

We've seen traumatic headlines in the past several days, and many have suffered through the experience of electrical power failure. Stories under the headlines raise profound questions about our technical, political, and moral infrastructures. In this issue of The Immediate Word, team members comment on the power failure, the California gubernatorial election, bodybuilding, and the relation between communal and individual welfare.

In our lead article, James Evans, thinking specifically of the Gospel lection, analyzes the blame question. He then suggests parallels between the inter-connectivity of the North American power grid, on the one hand, and human social and religious interrelationships, on the other.

Team members respond also from other directions, including comments by Carlos Wilton on the epistle reading from the lectionary for August 24. You will also find related illustrations, worship resources by Chuck Cammarata, and a children's sermon by Wes Runk.


Contents:
Lord, to Whom Can We Go (to Blame)?
Team Comments
Related Illustrations
Worship Resources
Children's Sermon

Lord, to Whom Can We Go (to Blame)?
by James L. Evans
John 6:56-69

At 4:11 PM on August 14, 50 million people found themselves without electricity. A massive power grid failure shut down much of the northeast United States and several cities in Canada. In major cities such as New York, Detroit, Toronto, and Cleveland, thousands of commuters were stranded on trains and subways. Traffic snarled as traffic lights ceased to function. With darkness descending, state and local officials wondered what sort of evening their citizens would face.

To everyone's surprise, the blackout soon became an example of what is good and hopeful about community in our country. Drivers in Detroit on their own worked out methods to navigate congested intersections without accident or incident. The mayor praised drivers for their courtesy and civility during a difficult time. In New York, subway commuters helped one another find their way out of the dark tunnels to the street above. Cell phones were shared, as was encouragement. The long night passed without significant incident.

But the blackout also quickly became an example of what we might call the failure of community. Even as firemen were pulling commuters out of subway tunnels, public officials were pointing fingers as to the cause of the power failure. Officials in Canada blamed inadequate equipment on the American side. Officials in the United States immediately dismissed this notion.

Others, both at the state and local levels, began pointing fingers variously at power company officials and other government leaders for their failure to keep the electrical facilities up to date. One critic even suggested that America's power grid was comparable to that of a "Third World country." Whatever goodwill may have existed on the ground will rapidly evaporate in the face of this incessant blame.

Writing in The New York Times on Saturday, August 16, Notre Dame physics professor Albert-Laszlo Barabasi offered this telling insight:

Once power is fully restored, it will take little time to find the culprit: most likely, it will be a malfunctioning switch or fuse, a snapped power line or some other local failure. Somebody will be fired, promotions and raises denied, and lawmakers will draw up legislation guaranteeing that this problem will not occur again.

Something will be inevitably missed, however, during all this finger-pointing: this week's blackout has little to do with faulty equipment, negligence or bad design. President Bush's call to upgrade the power grid will do little to eliminate power failures. The magnitude of the blackout is rooted in an often ignored aspect of our globalized world: vulnerability due to interconnectivity.1

Barabasi describes the process that led to this "interconnectivity" as a gradual move away from local utilities providing electricity for their regions. Utility companies discovered they could cut costs by linking up these regional generators onto a national network. Thousands of generators and hundreds of thousands of miles of cable serve as the infrastructure for the nation's power grid. However, a failure at any point along the connection can mean cascading failure down the line. Interconnectivity means vulnerability to the kind of blackout experienced by millions of people last week.

John 6:56-69

Ironically, what Barabasi sees as a weakness in electrical networks-"vulnerability due to interconnectivity"-is seen in the Gospel witness as part of our great hope. In language designed to evoke images of the communion meal, Jesus challenges his disciples to a shocking level of intimacy with him and with each other. "Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them" (John 6:56).

When some of his followers find his challenge to communal intimacy too much to stomach, Jesus asks the twelve if they also plan to leave him. Simon Peter speaks for the group when he says, "Lord, to whom can we go?" (John 6:68).

Communal Confession

This is a profound vision of community, or, to use Barabasi's phrase, "interconnectivity." As individual followers of Jesus, we are bound to him and to each other by means of a communal confession and communal experience.

The confession, of course, is that Jesus is Lord. In the incarnation God has revealed God's self fully and finally. Jesus is the fulfillment of the prophetic hope. Jesus is the fulfillment of the Davidic promise. Jesus is the appointed messiah who will not only save the world from sin, but also reveal in himself the true nature of human existence.

The confession that Jesus is Lord is the theological affirmation that constitutes the community of faith. It is that which overcomes our diversity-male and female, slave and free, etc., and creates a new unity-a new humanity. Acknowledging Jesus as Lord is what holds us together. He is our interconnectivity.

Or at least it should be. In the modern American experience of Christianity, confession of Jesus' lordship is not always enough to bring about unity. That is because of an unwillingness to be interconnected to believers who have differing views on other matters of faith. Southern Baptists, for example, have been battling for the last three decades over what constitutes Baptist orthodoxy. While practically all Southern Baptists affirm without question the confession that Jesus is Lord, there are differing views among Baptists on how to interpret the Bible.

Under the leadership of a decidedly right-wing majority, Southern Baptists have shifted the focus away from Jesus as the center and locus of faith and moved the Bible into that position. The Baptist Faith and Message of 1963 affirmed Jesus as the full and final revelation of God and the criterion by which all other reality is to be interpreted. The new Baptist Faith and Message adopted in June 2000 asserts that the Bible is the full and final revelation of God and the final arbiter of all truth.

The schism which has resulted in Baptist life stems directly from the unwillingness of one group of Baptists to accept the Bible as the center of faith, and the unwillingness of another group of Baptists to accept the confession that Jesus is Lord as sufficient grounds for fellowship and leadership within the community.

Or, to invoke Barabasi's image, the confession of Jesus as Lord as a unifying confession leaves too many disconnected concerns dangling. The flesh of Jesus that could enable us to "abide in him and him in us" is abandoned for a narrow connectivity that is less vulnerable to diverse points of view.

A similar scenario is playing itself out within the Episcopal Church in the United States. The issue for them is homosexuality. The question being faced by the Episcopal Church, and other denominations as well is this: "Is our confession of Jesus as Lord sufficient to unify us, or must we additionally agree on other confessional matters?" In short, what is it that holds us together?

Communal Experience

The problem is not merely confessional but also experiential. The challenge Jesus offers is not merely to "affirm" a certain thing about him, but to take him into ourselves-to eat his flesh.

The celebration of communion is intended as an act of worship that can bring us together around the table of fellowship. It is an act of faithfulness that not only says that Jesus is Lord, but also demonstrates that we are his. In other words, at the table of fellowship we are expected to subordinate whatever other identifying characteristics we may have brought with us and allow the bread and wine before us to become the source of a new identity.

This was the heart of Paul's complaint with the Corinthian church. They were using the "Lord's Supper" as an opportunity to flaunt their wealth or power. They were coming to the table as individuals, bringing their own meal with them, eating alone or with a select circle of friends or family. Paul tells them that whatever else this sort of behavior might be, it is not the Lord's Supper. In order to participate in the Lord's Supper Paul asserts that it is necessary to "discern the body"-that is, to embrace our interconnectivity.

Barabasi asserts that "vulnerability due to interconnectivity" was the source of the blackout that swept across the Northeast. Because we are dependent on each other, the reality is that if one part of the network fails, it has the potential to bring the whole network down.

And that may be true for electricity. But it is not true for communities of human beings. Our unwillingness to experience community, unified around profound and significant unifying beliefs and practices, leaves us "vulnerable due to individualistic non-connectivity."

"I Come to The Garden Alone"

Harold Bloom, writing in The American Religion,2 describes a kind of personal and individualized faith that has no real need for anyone else. All that is needed is "Jesus and me." Bloom asserts the favorite hymn for this individualized faith is "I come to the garden alone."

Alone in the garden with just Jesus and me, the only concern I have is my comfort, my convenience, my salvation or enlightenment.

Powerful forces at work in our culture promote this kind of isolated individualism that keeps us always on the margins of community. We participate only enough to get out of it what we think we need. This marginal participation, however, precludes taking any real responsibility for the working of community. When crisis comes, we may be tempted to restate Peter's question to ask, "Lord, to whom can we go to assign blame?"

Blame Often Means "Don't Look At Me!"

Whatever the cause of the power grid failure that left a fourth of the country in darkness last week, it certainly needs to be found and remedied. But so many times in the complex world of social arrangements, it is not really solutions we are looking for but rather someone to bear responsibility. California's pending recall vote is a good case in point.

Facing a budget deficit approaching $40 billion, a number of citizens there have seized upon an arcane law in California that allows for the recall of elected officials, in this case Democratic Governor Gray Davis. Organizers of the recall are blaming Davis' lack of leadership for the huge deficits as well as other problems facing the state.

Without taking sides, it seems only reasonable to ask if it is really fair to lay the blame on one man, even if he is the Governor. Many of the state's problems predate Davis' election, in some instances by decades.

For example, the budget deficits are largely due to the downturn in the economy since September 11. The same is true for virtually every state in the union. States are facing their worst fiscal crises in over half a century. According to one study, 42 states, representing 93 percent of all state spending, are facing a combined deficit of a whopping $60-$85 billion for the 2004 fiscal year, a shortfall twice as large as the ones states faced in the early 1990s. This is in addition to the $50 billion gap states had to close for 2003.

California's financial woes are intensified because of financial commitments the state has made to various programs. Just to cite one example, Californians voted to reduce public school class size in K-12 at a cost of $1.6 billion.

In addition, California continues to struggle with a daunting energy crisis. The problems with energy came to a head two years ago when rolling blackouts swept across the state. A combination of rising energy costs and caps on what consumers could be charged contributed both to the energy problem and the deficit. There were also hints and allegations of corruption, especially when it was learned that Enron profited from California's energy woes.

Immigration continues to be a front burner issue in California, and certainly an economic factor. One group calling themselves CAPS (Californians for Population Stabilization) asserts that all of the state's economic and social problems can be laid at the feet of immigration. The list includes overcrowded schools, traffic gridlock in all major cities, degradation of the environment, urban sprawl, deforestation, overburdened health care system, not enough money, higher tax rates to fund more public programs, and unemployment of minimum wage workers.

It would seem there is plenty of blame to go around, or better, plenty of responsibility to be shared. It's hard to see how Governor Davis can be blamed for all of California's problems. But if the recall is successful, as many predict it will be, that is exactly what will have happened. An angry citizenry, frightened and frustrated, will lay the blame for the failures of their state on one man.

The other side of this, of course, is the political myth of "the right person." Nothing highlights the failure of community any more than the willingness of citizens to pile all their hopes and dreams on the shoulders of a single candidate. This myth is being played out in graphic detail in California with the candidacy of Arnold Schwarzenegger for Governor. As the "strong man" candidate, Arnold has announced his intention to "pump up" state government, making it more efficient and more accountable.

It Even Happens in Church

Sadly, the tendency to level blame rather than share responsibility throughout the community even happens in church where community ought to work best. The termination rate among pastors is almost epidemic. Among Baptists the rate of forced termination is about one thousand pastors per year. While there are certainly legitimate reasons why a church would terminate their pastor, it is also true that pastors are rarely the sole source of a church's problems. The willingness to shift the blame for the church's struggle, or failure, onto the shoulders of a single person represents, in many instances, a gross failure of community.

We Are Vulnerable Regardless

Professor Barabasi is surely right as he describes the vulnerability of our national power grid. Interconnectivity, the many being connected to the one, certainly leaves us open to the kind of power failures witnessed last week.

It's hard not to wonder if there is not some intuitive recognition of this vulnerability on the part of those who resist the interconnectivity of community. As Jesus challenges his followers to dramatic intimacy with him and with each other, perhaps at some level they knew that accepting that level of intimacy leaves us open to bearing the pain and failure of those we gather with at the table.

Isn't that what Paul was alluding to when he said, "Weep with those who weep"? Allowing ourselves to become part of others means we are subject to their tears.

But Paul also wrote, "Rejoice with those who rejoice." The risk of community is also its hope. The same vulnerability due to interconnectivity that links us to our neighbor's tears also links us to their joy. The same vulnerability that makes us subject to "rolling blackouts" due to the failure of one small part, also makes it possible for the many to find meaningful connection to the one who is the source of life.

Where else can we go to find the hope of meaningful community? It is the not strong man who is willing to carry us and take responsibility for us, and bear our blame that makes us one. It is the bread of life that is able to feed our souls that keeps us at the table of fellowship that creates the hope of community.

Notes

1 "We're All on the Grid Together," The New York Times, August 16, 2003.
2 The American Religion: The Emergence of the Post-Christian Nation (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992).

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Team Comments

George Murphy responds: It's all our fault! People in the Akron area, where I live, got to feel a little bit that way about the power outage because there have been some indications that the blackout began at a facility of First Energy, which is based in Akron. That may or may turn out to have been the case. And of course most of us don't work for that company and weren't really at fault even if the failure did begin here. (But maybe if we hadn't all been running our air conditioners in such a profligate way....) Anyway, this gave us just a taste of how it feels to be blamed for something like that by millions of people.

There are people who are always feeling guilty even if there's no good reason to, and some parts of the Christian tradition give excessive emphasis to guilt and unworthiness. (It's been suggested that for some parts of my Lutheran tradition the appropriate Good Friday service would be for people to walk into church and see a big crucifix with a sign saying, "It's all your fault!") But the general tendency of American culture today is a "no fault" approach-or rather a "not MY fault" approach.

That shows up in the frivolous lawsuits that sometimes make the news: No matter how stupid the actions may have been that got a person in trouble, somebody else had to be to blame.

Sometimes nobody is morally culpable; no one is to blame, when something goes wrong. Earthquakes and hurricanes aren't anybody's fault, though even with them there's a temptation to ask, "Why weren't we warned?" or something of the sort. But the fact that we are too quick to ask, "Who's to blame?" shouldn't blind us to the fact that there is a theological issue of blame. That is the first half of the law-gospel dialectic. The trouble with asking, "Who can we blame?" is that often the answer is that we're the ones to blame, either individually or collectively. In the famous Pogo phrase, "We have met the enemy and it is us." On the political level, the citizens of California ought to ask questions like "Who's been demanding all the state entitlements?" before they start looking for a politician to blame.

But honestly accepting blame where blame is due is only the first half of the law-gospel drama-and not the most important half. Theologically, the whole point of making people aware of their sin is to point them to the solution to the problem, to say rhetorically with Peter, "Lord, to whom shall we go?" And that means to be pointed to Christ as savior and liberator, not as a moralist or a formulator of new laws. He has "the words of eternal life." And the preacher who announces this clearly is speaking the word of eternal life to his or her congregation.

Stan Purdum responds: Regarding "I Come to the Garden Alone," here's something I said in a sermon some time ago:

My least favorite hymn of all time is "In the Garden." I don't care much for the tune and I can't hear it without remembering a couple of people who used to sing it as a duet in the church of my childhood. The singers were nice people but their performance of this particular song sounded maudlin to me. But the real reason I don't like it is because of the words:

And he walks with me and he talks with me and he tells me I am his own. And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.

Frankly the vision of Jesus walking with me in a garden was unreal. That's something I might do with a sweetheart I was courting, but not with the resurrected spirit of a first-century man. And the image of this spirit telling me "you're my own" was just too weird!

But, on the other hand, the Jesus I read about in the New Testament, the physical man who lived in Nazareth of Galilee, now he's real. Yes, real as a historical person, but real nonetheless. You see, the Jesus I read about in the Gospels connects with me. He did not find life easy. He was often frustrated, sometimes angry, had personal friends he valued deeply, was moved by children and the pain of others. He was much more in touch with God than most people, but he had moments when he felt forsaken and alone. He had no time for silly rules that just burdened people (like not healing on the Sabbath) and he was absolutely intolerant of self-serving hypocrisy. He often failed to get people to see what he was trying to say, but he hung on with true grit.

If I dislike "In the Garden," a hymn I do like is "Jesus Calls Us," especially the first verse:

Jesus calls us o'er the tumult of our life's wild, restless sea;day by day his sweet voice sounded,saying, "Christian, follow me!"

That seems to me to be the call of Jesus' example and teaching. "Follow me," he says. "Live like this." That's real for me. Jesus of Nazareth is a concrete challenge to my life. He confronts and challenges how I live. His example won't let me be content with selfishness and won't let me live without thought for those beyond my little world.

Carter Shelley responds:

About blaming

Jesus calls us to move beyond "talking the talk to walking the walk," though he is not himself guilty of that particular cliche. Another familiar one is "Put you money where your mouth is." Better yet, how about if we put our lives where our mouth is? It is always easier for me to talk about how a Christian should live than to embody Christianity in my daily life. This kind of shirking of responsibility encourages us to be people who would rather blame than repair.

It seems in the past ten years or so, we Americans are no longer looking for solutions to problems so much as looking for but someone to blame for the problems we encounter. This reality works for all ages, races, and creeds.

"Jimmy hit me!"

"Yeah, well he said my mother was stupid!"

It starts early. We're supposed to outgrow it. Need adult examples? An airplane crashes. Whose fault was it? Was it the pilot? The baggage handler's? The tune-up team? Sometimes the answers are important because they can prevent a repetition of an unnecessary tragedy. But in late 20th and 21st century circumstances, we have a compelling need to find an answer-space shuttle crack-up last spring.

In his 1992 thriller Rising Sun, author Michael Crichton has one of his key characters explain to an American detective why the Japanese are such successful businessmen and leaders:

"In a Japanese organization, you'd never get a call like that. The chief just hung you out to dry. He takes no responsibility-it's all your problem. And he's blaming you for things that have nothing to do with you, like Graham, and me." Connor shook his head. "The Japanese don't do that. The Japanese have a saying: fix the problem not the blame. In American organizations it's all about who [messed up], whose head will roll. In Japanese organizations it's about what's [messed up], and how to fix it. Nobody gets blamed. Their way is better" (72).

Children do this all the time. When did adults start doing it as well? Are we still children who are never responsible for our actions or the consequences of our actions? Why is it that we aren't looking for solutions so much as someone to bear the burden of responsibility? Interesting idea. We remain stagnant and seemingly indifferent.

According to The New York Times Sunday edition, Arnold Schwarzenegger did not even vote in the last two presidential elections; yet he's convinced he'd make a better governor than Gray Davis who's had years of experience as a legislator.

Sharing the responsibility could make such a difference. If each of us, each citizen, thought of one way he or she could positively contribute-reducing energy usage, donating time and talent to some person or situation created by current economy or other drags on the quality of life of the formerly employed, the poor, the overextended, the greedy.

As Jim observes, blaming in church is a frequent first step in creating conflict. Easiest to blame the minister if the congregation isn't growing fast enough, not everyone likes his personality or her worship leadership. Simple, fast and very destructive.

Anybody who's ever been through a divorce or nursed a friend or family member through one hears a whole lot of blaming going on. Part of what a successful marriage requires is the ability to see problems as something to be shared and mutually supportive in the midst of facing and solving. Blaming offers a sorry foundation for a marriage, child rearing, or the operation of a successful and thriving congregation.

About Interconnectedness

Jim, I found the quote on American vulnerability due to interconnectivity an interesting perspective. I think it's the first time I've been invited to view interconnectedness as being a national lack or a flaw. I've always loved the Pauline passages in 1 Corinthians and in Ephesians that affirm both difference and interdependence as essential for both the human body and Christ's body, the church. I understand the repercussions experienced this past week due to so many cities and communities being linked by a power grid, but I wonder if seeking the solution in greater electrical independence from one another is the way to go. Obviously, out of date equipment poses problems and dangers and needs to be repaired or replaced. But was I the only person who thought, "Hmmmmmm, maybe part of this problem is our excessive use of and dependence upon electricity"? Might we as individuals and families consider a periodic power fast, the way others express faithfulness through a food fast, or a genuine Sabbath from the exertions and demands of the modern world? None of us would be hurt by turning off a few more lights in rooms we're not using, or in putting a sweater on rather than turning up the thermostat when we are cold.

Because so much of our culture and society is based upon capitalism, there's little incentive-and certainly, no profit-in encouraging Americans to conserve gas, heating fuel, or electricity. Yet, we are interconnected to the rest of the world, and we are not the only ones who need gas to make our cars, farming equipment, and factories run. We are not the only ones who need to have heat in the winter or electricity by which to operate hospitals, schools, and refrigerators, and keep city streets lit at night.

We are interconnected with the rest of the world in a good way. From travel, television and immigration, we know about the life, culture, and beliefs of people from all over the world. That's good. We are interconnected in that the knowledge and expertise first and second world nations possess in the areas of transportation, science, medicine and agriculture can be shared with nations that are not quite so advanced.

Of course, we also are interconnected in some ways that are not so great. For unemployed Americans our current interconnectedness seems to mean losing jobs to foreign workers who'll work longer hours for a whole lot less pay. It's hard to celebrate interconnectedness when it means one no longer has company health insurance or money in the bank to cover next month's mortgage.

The Sunday New York Times Magazine featured a piece about an international arms dealer. It was scary to read about how easy it was to move armaments about and how very many different forms of weapons, missiles, etc. could be acquired if one has both cash and discretion. Many, many of these weapons of significant destruction originated in American factories. We sell weapons to many different countries and governments in the world as freely as we sell Nikes and Reeboks. Such interconnectedness does neither us nor other countries any good, and may come back to haunt us as resentments about first world prosperity and first world greed continue to grow.

About Community

Christians tend to assume that large churches are where the action is, and that a successful church is one that's growing in its membership. The smart technique many mega-churches employ is to establish small, intimate homogeneous groups in which people experience community. Obviously it's hard to feel community in most congregations over 100 members. For most of us, church community is not the same as having 6-8 good friends over for dinner, yet that's the kind of intimacy Jesus and Paul invite us to share-with each other and with Christ. Baring of our fears and our souls, voicing our vulnerabilities in a safe, holy, and accepting place-that's what the first century Christian religious community aspired to provide. It's still a worthy goal today. In that way we and the early Christians were not so different from the citizens Solomon leads in prayer after the Temple has been completed and recognized as the geographic center for the life and worship of the people of Israel.

In his prayer in 1 Kings 8:22-53, the literal son of David and second King of Israel, Solomon, the Wise, offers up a communal confession. Solomon cites a range of important areas where the children of Israel have sinned in the past and are likely to sin again. (See my prayer proposal following this entry.) The use of the word "confession" serves nicely here on two counts. Confessions are offered by the king because a confession of one's sins before one's God is necessary any time one approaches God in prayer. Confession also affirms the covenant that exists between God and the children of Israel as it was understood at the point in Israel's history where the Ark of the Covenant found a permanent home in the Temple in Jerusalem.

The prayer of dedication Solomon offers takes place as a communal experience. There is no other way to dedicate this Temple to God. It is not a building designed to hold and contain God's holiness. The Temple establishes a place for ongoing worship and serves as the focal point of their religion. Not because God dwells there and nowhere else. The King makes it clear God is everywhere. The Temple provides a physical reminder of God's transcendence and sovereignty. While the fact that former nomads and slaves were able to build such a solid monument demonstrates their God's greatness and their God's power. It is God, not Solomon or David, who is the ultimate king and ruler of the chosen people. As such they are God's subjects who live in a covenanted relationship with their God, and the privileges and obligations of that covenant are contained on the tablets held in the Ark of the Covenant.

Because the Old Testament lection this week includes Solomon's prayer at the dedication of the Temple, and because the content of this prayer expresses modern as well as an ancient concerns, I offer the beginnings of a litany on 1 Kings 8:22-53 in which verses from the text are juxtaposed with modern entreaties similar in nature.

Solomon's prayer is too long to include in full in a worship bulletin, so I would shorten those sections that are repetitious due to their poetic form or that express the main prayer in the first few words of the verse. Several other ways of presenting these sentiments might also be applied. One would be an antiphonal reading with one worship leader reading Solomon's part and another reading that on behalf of the congregation. It would also work to use this prayer as the prayers of the people for that Sunday.

SOLOMON'S PRAYER AND OURS

Solomon: "O Lord, God of Israel, there is no God like you in heaven above or on earth beneath, keeping covenant and steadfast love for your servants who walk before you with all their heart."

Congregation: O Lord, God of Israel, of the United States, and of all the world, you who are Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer are unique and generous in your promises and in your love. Help us be your faithful children with our whole hearts.

Solomon: The covenant that you kept for your servant my father David as you declared to him; you promised with your mouth and have this day fulfilled with your hand.

Congregation: The covenant that you established through the life, death and resurrection of your Son Jesus, that covenant which promises us all life now and life eternal.

Solomon: O Lord, God of Israel, keep for your servant my father David that which you promised him, saying, 'There shall never fail you a successor before me to sit on the throne of Israel, if only your children look to their way, to walk before me as you have walked before me.

Congregation: God of Israel and of the United States, we recognize that David's heirs did not always walk in your way or obey your will, and that the result was military defeat, loss of their kings, and other empires domination of the chosen land and people. O God in Whom We Trust, may we seek your will and your way always so that the United States of America may be in reality and not just in rhetoric "one nation under God, indivisible with liberty and justice for all."

Carlos Wilton responds: An alternate approach to this week's lections, based on Ephesians 6:10-20, is to focus not so much on the tendency to blame others but on our culture's fascination with power. News stories in recent days have mentioned power in two very different contexts: the electrical power failure in the Northeast and the political power soon to be fought over in the California recall election.

You've done a wonderful job with the electrical-power angle, Jim. I have nothing to add. With respect to the California election, though, I think a sermon could also profitably be preached on personal power: its persistent allure as well as its temptations and dangers. A natural springboard for such a sermon, based on the daily newspaper, could be an analysis of the public persona of Arnold Schwarzenegger-a man of boundless ambition, who (like Ronald Reagan and Jesse Ventura before him) seems to have successfully made the leap from entertainer to populist politician.

Schwarzenegger-now a leading contender in the California gubernatorial recall race-exemplifies the immigrant ideal of the "self-made man." In his movie roles and as an advocate for physical fitness, he's become a national icon of physical strength. Ephesians 6:10 has something to say about becoming "strong in the Lord"-only what the scriptures are talking about here is not physical strength, but spiritual strength.

"Power" or "strength," in this verse, is a complicated concept. Of the four principal words for power in the New Testament, this verse uses three. (A single verse earlier in this letter, 1:19, contains all four.) The comparative poverty of the English language makes for a rather odd-sounding, repetitious translation: "Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power."

First is endynamousthe, "be strong"; it's a complex verb, encompassing within it dynamis, strength. Dynamis is simple, ordinary power or might: the sort of strength Arnold used to display before the crowds in his iron-pumping days. Dynamis accomplishes things; it's the root of our English word "dynamic."

Second is kratos, or ruling power. This is the sort of power Arnold will exercise, should he succeed in his bid to become governor. "Kratos" crops up in our English word "democracy." There's no simple English equivalent, so the NRSV translates it here as "strength"-its precise meaning in the Greek, having to do with political rulers, doesn't come through at all. A little later in this passage, when verse 5 speaks of "the cosmic powers of this present darkness," "cosmic powers" is kosmokratoras-a compound word containing kratos within it.

Third is ischys. This one's a bit harder to define. It's similar to kratos in some ways, but with more of a passive sense. Ischys is a quality belonging to a person who governs that can be seen by others but not directly exercised. It could be translated as "inherent power" or perhaps even "personal charisma." When Arnold walks into a room filled with his supporters and conversation abruptly stops, he's subtly exercising a kind of personal power, without so much as flexing a bicep. You could call it the Schwarzenegger swagger.

The fourth word, energeia, is not found in this passage (although, as I've noted, you can find it in 1:19-20). It's where our word "energy" comes from. In the New Testament, however, energeia is reserved for divine power. Perhaps our propensity to describe electrical power as "energy" is a throwback to this ancient usage-remember that the first telegraph message sent by Samuel F. B. Morse was "What hath God wrought?" There's always been something mysterious about electrical power. From the earliest days when Zeus was portrayed as casting lightning bolts, electricity has been associated in the popular mind with divinity. To the extent that we use the word "energy" to describe a sort of God-given life-force within, one that flags when we're physically exhausted and surges when we get that second wind, there's still a remnant of the association with divinity.

Power is something we all desire, at some level. And now that the Californian children who used to watch "he-man" cartoons on TV and shout, "I have the power!" are old enough to vote for Arnold, perhaps that human fascination with power will express itself at the ballot box.

Writing in the August 17, 2003, issue of The New York Times ("Schwarzenegger's Next Goal on Dogged, Ambitious Path"), Bernard Weinraub and Charlie Leduff quote someone who's known Arnold a long time:

"What fascinated Arnold was money and power, and what money and power bestow on an individual," said George Butler, producer and director of "Pumping Iron," the 1976 documentary that became Mr. Schwarzenegger's first successful film.

"The past meant nothing to Arnold because it was over," Mr. Butler said. "He never looked over his shoulder. This is a man of bottomless ambition. It's always been there. Nothing's happened in the last few days that hasn't happened before. He sees himself as almost mystically sent to America."

Some residents of Graz, Austria-Schwarzenegger's hometown-appear equally fascinated with his powerful persona. Last year they decided to construct a $5 million, 77-foot tall statue of Arnold-not as himself, but in his movie role as "the Terminator."

Even Arnold (perhaps with media spin in the back of his mind) thought this was a little over the top. He wrote to the committee trying to raise money for the monument, "I am very flattered and honored that such a monument would be considered, but I must encourage those involved not to erect a Terminator monument. I strongly suggest using the money that would be needed to build the monument ... for much more important efforts. I would prefer having the money go to aid the poor, health care services, educational services and the Special Olympics. I strongly advise using the money in a productive way to benefit the people of Graz."

"Or," as Salon e-zine writer Amy Reiter quips, "They could just make a big check out to his gubernatorial campaign if and when he decides to run."

("Arnie's beef: Nein to Terminator statue!" by Amy Reiter, in Salon e-zine, Sept. 27, 2002; http://www.salon.com/people/col/reit/2002/09/27/npfri/index_np.html)

What does it mean to be "strong in the Lord?" How is that different from secular ideas of power, its value and benefits? Such would be a fruitful direction for a sermon.

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Related Illustrations

It really boils down to this: that all life is interrelated. We are all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied into a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.

We are made to live together because of the interrelated structure of reality. Did you ever stop to think that you can't leave for your job in the morning without being dependent on most of the world? You get up in the morning and go to the bathroom and reach over for the sponge, and that's handed to you by a Pacific islander. You reach for a bar of soap, and that's given to you at the hands of a Frenchman. And then you go into the kitchen to drink your coffee for the morning, and that's poured into your cup by a South American. And maybe you want tea, and that's poured into your cup by a Chinese. Or maybe you're desirous of having cocoa for breakfast, and that's poured into your cup by a West African. And then you reach over for your toast, and that's given to you at the hands of an English-speaking farmer, not to mention the baker. And before you finish eating breakfast in the morning, you've depended on more than half the world. This is the way our universe is structured, this is its interrelated quality. We aren't going to have peace on Earth until we recognize this basic fact of the interrelated structure of all reality.
- Martin Luther King, Jr., from "A Christmas Sermon on Peace," 1967

*****

"The new survival unit is no longer the individual nation; it's the entire human race and its environment. Unity is not something we are called to create; it's something we are called to recognize."
- William Sloane Coffin

*****

William T. Close, M.D., writes in a book on the Ebola epidemic:
"We live in a small community of nations. When one nation coughs, others cannot sleep. When the people of one nation are crushed by destitution, disaster from revolutions or plagues are inevitable .... Devastating diseases breed in the cesspools of poverty ....We must graduate from judgment and neglect to realistic actions, and we must encourage the handful of men and women now struggling against monumental odds in countries all but abandoned by the West."

*****

"We cannot live for ourselves. Our lives are connected by a thousand invisible threads, and along these fibers, our actions run as causes and return to us as resu1ts."
- Herman Melville

*****

A parable from the Jewish tradition:
A man in a boat began to bore a hole under his seat. When his fellow passengers asked him what he was doing, he answered: "What do you care? Am I not boring under my own seat?"

*****

I got intrigued by how the word "power" moved from something wielded by a king or dictator to a reference to electricity as power. I looked in the Oxford English Dictionary and discovered the following. It's origins come from Latin pouvre, which translates as "to make able to do something." The current spelling can be traced back to the twelfth century. In 1690 there's an example of the word being used to mean the "ability to do or effect something, the ability to act or effect something strongly" (2d ed., 12:259). The twelfth definition for power in the OED is "an instrument by means of which energy may be applied to mechanical purposes. The thirteenth definition describes "any form of energy or force available for application to work. Mechanical energy (as that of gravitation, running water, wind, steam, electricity) as distinguished from hard labor. (261). 1896 is the first known instance where the word power was applied to refer to electrical wiring. Definition 7 for power, by the way, refers to "a celestial being or a spiritual being having control or influence, a deity, a divinity."

The OED had less to offer concerning the word "blame." In vol. 2, page 256, an "action of censoring, expression of disapprobation, a charge or an accusation are the primary meanings for "blame" and have been so since 1325.
- Carter Shelley

*****

Arnold Schwarzenegger has farther to go than he thinks. He may become governor of California, but he can't become God. That privilege is reserved for the Indian movie-star-turned-politician N. T. Rama Rao, who played so many mythological heroes in so many hit films that fans built a temple to him.

NTR, as he was popularly known, traded his divine celebrity for the dross of office by founding his own political party in 1980 and romping to victory in state elections. That made him chief minister, the equivalent of a governor, of Andhra Pradesh, a state which then had 50 million people (California is home to a scant 34 million).

Perhaps Mr. Schwarzenegger should consider the sad ending of the divine NTR's career as a cautionary tale: NTR found his magic wearing thin during his first term and lost his bid for re-election. He fought back with populist calls for subsidized rice for the poor, and returned to power, but within months he faced a revolt within his own party, led by his technocratic and unglamorous son-in-law. NTR was unceremoniously ousted as chief minister in 1995, suffered a heart attack and died soon after.

In his movies, he always triumphed before the closing credits, but reality allowed no resurrection for NTR. The temple dedicated to him lies in ruins. No one worships there any more.
- Shashi Tharoor, in The New York Times, August 15, 2003


Worship Resources
by Chuck Cammarata

CALL TO WORSHIPLEADER: Every Sunday they come to church
PEOPLE: And sit in their pews.
LEADER: Some Sundays the Sunday School lesson is dry
PEOPLE: And leaves no impression on them.
LEADER: Some Sundays the sermon misses the mark,
PEOPLE: And no insight is gained.
LEADER: And some Sundays the organ and choir are off key,
PEOPLE: And there is no inspiration in their music.
LEADER: But always,
PEOPLE: No matter what,
LEADER: The family is there for them.
PEOPLE: The body of Christ,
LEADER: The church,
PEOPLE: Gives its love
LEADER: And encouragement
PEOPLE: And challenge.
LEADER: And they go away nourished.
PEOPLE: We are one in the Spirit,
LEADER: And in this oneness there is great power.
PEOPLE: Come, let us celebrate the community of faith.
LEADER: AMEN.
PEOPLE: Amen.

HYMN

This would be a good place to sing the hymn, "They Will Know We Are Christians by Our Love."

PRAYER OF CONFESSION

LEADER: Lone Rangers.
PEOPLE: Rugged individuals.
LEADER: Lonesome Cowboys.
PEOPLE: Lord, too many of us
LEADER: Live our Christianity by ourselves.
PEOPLE: Forgive us for isolating ourselves
LEADER: And cutting ourselves off from the power,
PEOPLE: And accountability,
LEADER: And correction,
PEOPLE: And encouragement,
LEADER: Of the body of Christ.
PEOPLE: Open our eyes to see,
LEADER: How badly we need the church,
PEOPLE: For without one another,
LEADER: Our faith will be stunted,
PEOPLE: Our witness dimmed,
LEADER: And our power to transform
PEOPLE: And be transformed
LEADER: Will be diminished.
PEOPLE: Draw us close to one another
LEADER: And through one another
PEOPLE: To you.
LEADER: We pray it in the name of Jesus Christ.
PEOPLE: Amen.

ASSURANCE OF PARDON

LEADER: Forgiveness is the easy part. It is ours for the taking.
PEOPLE: Praise God for the goodness of the grace that forgives.
LEADER: But forgiveness cries out for a response.
PEOPLE: Bear fruit that befits repentance.
LEADER: Let us respond to the glory of being forgiven by bearing fitting fruit.
PEOPLE: Let us love one another
LEADER: As Christ loved us.
PEOPLE: Let us.
LEADER: AMEN.

PRAYER FOR ILLUMINATION

In Christ there is now neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for all are one in Christ.

Lord God, your word witnesses to this truth; we are one, united in you, but we fall short of this reality in our day-to-day lives. Use now the power of your word to knit us together. Each word another stitch. Every syllable a bit of glue. That we might more fully reflect the glorious oneness that you will for us in the church. We ask in the name of the one who died for us - Jesus Christ. Amen.

Hymns and Songs

Blest Be the Tie that Binds
The Church's One Foundation
In Christ There Is No East or West
One Bread-One Body
Glorious Things of Thee Are Spoken
Faith of Our Fathers
Christ Is Made the Sure Foundation
Pass It On

CREATIVE IDEAS

A powerful and simple expression of our oneness is the simple gesture of holding hands. In my church we do it often. You can make a circle around the sanctuary and sing a hymn. You can hold hands in the pews during prayer. You can ask people to hold hands during the reading of scripture that reminds us of oneness. There are lots of ways to do it - but doing it reminds us that we are connected to one another in Christ.

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A Children's Sermon
by Wesley Runk
John 6:56-69

Taking the Hard Way

Text: "When many of his disciples heard it, they said, 'This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?' ... Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him." (vv. 60, 66)

Object: the church piano

Good morning, boys and girls. Today we are going to talk about tough decisions that everyone has to make at one time or another in their lives. Let's start with a question. This includes you children, but let's also include everyone else too. How many people, when you were children, took piano lessons? (ask all of the members who took lessons to stand up) Here is the next question. How many people who took piano lessons when they were children can still play the piano? If you still play, sit down. (Ask the people who still play to sit down and then ask the other people who do not play to come up front. After the people arrive at the front, ask if any of them would like to play something on the piano. Also ask them why they quit. Ask if today they wish they had continued with their lessons. After a few minutes of fun and honesty, let them go back to their pew and sit down.)

It seems that more people started to play the piano than still play the piano. Learning to play the piano is not easy. It takes a lot of practice and a lot of time. People give up when it does not come easy or seem to be a lot of fun. They do other things.

Jesus had problems like this with some of his disciples. Every day Jesus taught what it meant to be one of his disciples. One day some of the disciples thought that Jesus was asking too much. Jesus could have argued with them and said, "Hang around a while and try it and see if it is too tough for you, or maybe I will change my mind and make it easier." But Jesus didn't say those things. Being a disciple is hard. It is hard to forgive others. It is hard to share with people who don't have much. It is hard to love your enemies.

So some of the disciples left Jesus and went their own way. He did not run after them and ask them to think it over. If people decided it was too hard to follow Jesus, they would have to go their own way. But if they stayed with Jesus and followed his teachings, he promised them something wonderful, something called eternal life.

The next time you see someone practicing the piano, notice how hard they work. Then ask yourself if they think it is worth it. The same choice is yours about Jesus. I hope you are better followers than you are piano players.

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The Immediate Word, August 24, 2003 issue.

Copyright 2003 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.

All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.