March 11th

Submission and Power

To my dear TFMC family,

I've been thoroughly enjoying the way we've been slowly working our way through the scriptures typically associated with Holy Week.

We've been given the opportunity to dwell in these stories that, for narrative sake, we often move through quickly as we tell Jesus' journey from the Last Supper to the Cross. We don't usually walk through these stories slowly, so I've really appreciated the chance to spend considerable time with them.

While I've always felt that Jesus' passion story should be told as one continuous narrative from the Last Supper to his death on the cross, breaking it down and examining it chunk by chunk, week by week, has been refreshing.

It's helped me notice things in these stories that I didn't often think about before. For example, this past week I highlighted the separation of stories—Jesus' and Peter's. It's interesting to notice how they mirror each other, how truth and lies are juxtaposed.

I've also appreciated how this series has led me to do a bit of my own soul-searching. This past week, while preparing, I was confronted with the question: Where, in my own life, have I not acted consistently with who I think I am? When have I stood up, and when have I stood back? When have I been courageous and stood up for those who need a voice, and when have I stood back and let things happen?  The week before, I reflected on moments where I sat in the gap between knowing and not knowing—and how that felt.   This week, we're being challenged to consider the relationship between submission and power. The question I want to wrestle with is: Where does power truly reside?

We've seen examples of how people equate power with strength, where might makes right; where the story goes if I have the bigger army, I have more power. If I have the bigger economy, I have more power. But I don't believe that strength or the ability to manipulate or coerce is true power. In Jesus' trial, we have a model of the powerless being the most powerful. While kings have power and authority granted to them by the people, it is not the same power that Jesus wields. Just because you have the power to harm does not mean you are powerful.

Jesus models for us how, in his submission to the authority of Rome, he actually exposes its powerlessness. Violence is one kind of power, but the Prince of Peace is the embodiment of a power that transforms through love, sacrifice, and truth.  I continue to pray for the day when we understand that there is a different kind of power—one that doesn't harm, but rather one that lifts up, encourages, supports, cares, and grants dignity to those we perceive as powerless.

Yours,

Craig Janzen Neufeld, Pastor