Saint Luke's Lutheran Church

One theme that jumps out at me from our Gospel lesson is that of authority. Mark tells us that Jesus taught with authority. He says that Jesus had the authority to command evil spirits. Authority is power and power and authority are always important issues. This is especially true these days as President Bush is seeking the authority to use military power against Iraq. We seem to be standing on the threshold of war in the Middle East. The fact is that there is already a war going on, and we are in the thick of it. This conflict has been going on for a very long time. It is the very same conflict that is described in our Gospel lesson - a conflict between the divine and the demonic, a conflict between good and evil.

There are those who would like to think that the current crisis illustrates this conflict between good and evil by casting the United States as the good guys and by casting and Saddam Hussein as the evil one. As attractive and as tempting as such a perspective is for us Americans, it is way too simplistic. The conflict between good and evil, between the divine and the demonic, is being waged within our own country - and has been going on for decades and for centuries. In fact, the conflict between good and evil, between the divine and the demonic, is being waged within each one of us as we struggle with our pride and our prejudice, our greed and our selfishness, and our lack of concern for others.

This is the conflict Jesus addresses when he teaches about God. This is the conflict that Jesus addresses when he casts out the demons. This is the conflict that Jesus addressed when he took up a cross and laid down his life and rose from the dead after three days. This is the conflict that Jesus continues to address as he lives within the hearts and the lives of those who believe in him.

Today, just like that Sabbath day in Capernaum, Jesus addresses this conflict with authority. Where does Jesus' authority come from? Well, it was not an acquired authority that comes from having money or might. Jesus never had a lot of money - in fact, he didn't even have a home of his own. And Jesus never led an army or even carried a sword. It was not an imputed authority that comes from being given power or responsibility, for Jesus never won an election or held an office. Jesus had none of the trappings of worldly power, and yet when he taught, he taught with authority - an authority and a power that was immediately recognized by those who heard him. An authority and a power that they found absolutely amazing.

Jesus' authority was in the power of his words. Words have power. Words have the power to wound and to heal, the power build up and to tear down, the power to inspire hope or despair. The childish ditty that says, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" is simply not true. Words can and do hurt. But words can also heal. A hospital in London played 12-minute tapes of encouraging words to 19 surgical patients and found that they had less fever, nausea, pain and other symptoms and that they went home a day earlier that those who did not hear those words. The British novelist Edward Bulwer-Lytton said it well when he wrote, "The pen is mightier than the sword."

Words have power no matter who speaks them, but there are two things about Jesus' words that give them an amazing, extraordinary power. The first thing is that Jesus' words are true. The words of Jesus are the words of God, and God's word is always true. We hear lots of words from lots of different people every day - so many words, so many conflicting messages, that often it is hard for us to know what is true and what is not. Sometimes we decide what is true for ourselves - basing it on what we think or on what we want to believe. We need something more authoritative than that. We are not equipped enough or good enough. The words of Jesus and the Word of God are authoritative - they have a power and an authority that has stood the test of time. It has proven itself to be true and trustworthy over and over again. So listen to these words, and believe them.

The second thing that gives power to the words of Jesus is love. When Jesus speaks, he speaks out of love. Even when he is angry - and Jesus did get angry - he always spoke out of love. The level of love that underlies the words of Jesus is as complete and as absolute as the level of truth that lies behind them. For the love of Jesus is a love that embraces all people - no matter who they are or what they have done. The love of Jesus is so complete that he gave his own life, not only for his friends, but even for his enemies. There is more power in love than there is in hate. There is more power in love than there is in fear. There is more power in love than there is in physical or military force. The love of Jesus, displayed on the cross, gives his words an amazing power. So listen to them, and trust them.

There is a story that illustrates the power of words - words that are grounded in both truth and love. It is the story of a little Methodist Church which went through 8 pastors in 11 years. The church blamed the pastors; the pastors blamed the congregation. Members left and in time no pastor was willing to serve in that congregation. The bishop called a special meeting with key leaders from the congregation and clergy from the conference. He invited the leaders to describe the difficulties they had experienced over the past years. Then the bishop invited them all to pray silently about whom he should send to serve this troubled church. The silence lasted a long time, even after the bishop concluded the prayer with an "Amen."

Finally one of the older pastors spoke out from the back: "I'll go," she said. Now this was a pastor who had been on leave of absence for several years. She had been through a scandalous divorce. She had become an alcoholic. The only reason they had not removed her from the roster was because she was so close to retirement and had made such progress in her rehabilitation program.

"Are you sure, Deborah?" the bishop asked. "This is a very difficult assignment."

"This is a congregation in pain," Deborah said. "I know something about pain. I think I should be the one to go. But there is one condition to my going - you must give me a free hand to do whatever is necessary to bring about healing." The bishop looked back at Deborah, and without blinking an eye, said, "You have my full support to do whatever is needed."

Deborah then met with the troubled congregation, and they agreed to accept her as their pastor. At that meeting, Deborah asked for the same unconditional support she had requested from the bishop and she asked that they promise to pray for her every day. Some were reluctant, but they agreed.

Then Deborah told them that she planned to visit with every member of this congregation before performing any other pastoral duties, including preaching. They need to arrange for someone else to lead the worship services over the next few weeks.

Deborah began her visitation the following day. She went from house to house, apartment to apartment, hospital bed to nursing home bed, until she had met with every one in the church except for one. The next Sunday she preached her first sermon there. The sanctuary was packed that day. She told them how she came to love Jesus, and why she believed God has called me to serve in that congregation. It was a stirring sermon. Many in the congregation were moved to tears. At the end, however, a man stood up in the back of the sanctuary. It was Harry Wiersem, the man who had refused to see her when she called at his home. He was the longtime leader who had bedeviled so many pastors before her. Some had told Deborah that he had never recovered from the death of his wife many years before.

"Who do you think you are, sister?" he yelled. "We know all about you. You couldn't keep your husband and you are a drunk. You're the last thing we need in this church. We've got enough problems as it is!"

He stood glaring at her, his face red and his knuckles white as his hands gripped the pew in front of him. Deborah looked back at him with sad eyes. She didn't speak for several seconds. It seemed like an eternity to the congregation. It was absolutely silent in the sanctuary. No one moved or seemed to breathe.

"I am a sinner, Harry," Deborah said in a soft, firm voice, still looking into his angry, red face. "A forgiven sinner. And I've come to serve with sinners: forgiven sinners." Then she stepped down from the pulpit and walked up the long center aisle to where Harry was still hanging on to the back of his pew. She put her arm around his shoulder, looked him in the eye and said, "I am sorry about Mildred. She must have been very dear to you." Harry let go of the pew and began to sob like a baby. Deborah held him in her arms and when he was finished, she asked everyone to gather round them for prayer. At the end of that prayer, Deborah knew that the demons were gone and that the congregation would be whole again.

There is power is the words of Jesus. Listen to those words, and speak those words to one another. And when you speak - speak like Jesus, in truth and in love. Amen.