Strength in Weakness - Third Midweek Worship in Lent
Author: Pastor Scott Schul
March 26, 2025
Our theme this
week is “strength.” Who are the
strong? What does it mean to be strong? We all might have different
answers. And so I ask your forgiveness
for the autobiographical tone of many of my words today as I’ve pondered these
questions. Your experiences are surely
different. But please stick with me,
because my prayer is that my personal musings will eventually lead us together
to Christ’s cross.
Our initial
perceptions of strength and strong people are formed from our earliest experiences. In my case, as a child I vividly remember the
many World War 2 veterans in my hometown of Kane. There aren’t many left nowadays, but back
then it seemed as if nearly all the men of a certain age had served in that
conflict. They didn’t stand out because
they bragged about their wartime experiences. On the contrary, most rarely ever spoke about that time in their
lives. But anyone could tell that it forever
marked them. There was something
different about them.
For instance,
those men had a particular look. Long
into old age, many kept the very short haircuts that were required of soldiers,
sailors, and airmen during World War 2. They had a quiet confidence in their eyes too, but also a reserve. They had seen things they might have wanted
to forget but never would. Imagine! As mere boys they volunteered their lives to defend
their nation and democracy itself. It
carried a heavy price. In war they
suffered many things and made many sacrifices. But when they came home to take their place as shopkeepers, farmers, bankers,
and factory workers, they took on another daunting challenge: rebuilding a
nation.
Memory is a
funny thing. For some reason I remember
that many of them had huge forearms, forged from a lifetime of hard work. And many of them had tattoos from their
military service. Nowadays tattoos have
become fashionable and commonplace, but not then. These weren’t fashion accessories. They memorialized a crucible experience these
men had survived. To my child’s eyes,
these men exemplified physical strength and strength of character. I wanted to be like them.
I discovered
another form of strength in my dad. He
too was a veteran but came of age long after World War 2 and never saw active
combat. Dad’s strength was different
than those World War 2 vets. It showed
up in the way he worked multiple jobs, many of which I know he disliked but did
anyway, just to ensure his family’s needs were taken care of. He worked long hours and missed a lot of our lives,
not because he wanted to, but because that’s how it had to be. He may not have spoken words of love,
but he demonstrated that love by wearing out his body for us. His example of strength was something I
wanted to emulate too.
I discovered a
third and very different image of strength from a most unlikely source,
TV. You might laugh at me, but one of my
heroes, both as a child and still to this day, was Mister Rogers. He was like no other man in my life. He spoke so directly and softly about life,
feelings, and the magic of wonder and imagination. In his vulnerability and gentleness, I
learned an entirely new category of strength. It did not negate those more traditional models of strength represented
by the World War 2 vets or my dad; Mister Rogers simply added a new facet to
it. He expanded what I understood to be
strength. I wanted so much for some of his strength to be mine as well.
The last
person I’ll lift as an influence on me is of course Jesus. He taught me an utterly unique strength, one
that continues to be jarring and incongruent with the world’s definition of
strength. We see this in today’s Gospel
lesson. Peter got the “job title” 100%
right when he proclaimed that Jesus was the Messiah. But Peter completely bungled the job
description. Peter thought Messiahs shouldn’t
ever suffer or be killed. He believed he
knew better than Jesus how the Son of God should act.
But Jesus
realized that his strength was completely different than the world’s
conventional definition. He would not achieve
his greatest victory on a battlefield or through physical strength or academic
achievement. He would defeat sin, death,
and the devil by meekly and humbly pouring himself out on a cross. What the world would see as his ultimate
defeat was, in fact, his ultimate victory.
Indeed, Jesus completely
redefined what it means to be strong. At times I’ve longed to be strong like
him, by pouring myself out in service through long hours of labor or being open
to the possibility of sacrificing my life in furtherance of a sacred
cause. But as anyone can see, Jesus is
Jesus and I am not… Far from it. I can’t
replicate Jesus’s form of strength. It’s
too far beyond me, or any of us. And there are elements of the strength of the World War 2 vets, my
father, and even Mister Rogers that are also far beyond my own meager
abilities. Perhaps they’re beyond yours
too.
But with age
and experience I’ve learned that we cannot think of strength only as doing more
and more and more. Because when we solely
rely on our strength, we will at some point hit a wall. It’s true of all people who aren’t
Jesus. We must avoid thinking we can or should do it all. Because when
we put too much reliance on our own strengths and abilities, and especially when
we delude ourselves into thinking we can be our own savior, we crash. We need to admit and accept our vast
limitations.
So what is strength? True, holy, powerful strength
is to rely entirely upon Jesus. The very
best example of this is St. Paul. He was
a highly educated, highly capable man. But as he admits in 2 Corinthians, he too had his limits. For a while he wrestled with God about
this. It took time before he could
finally celebrate his weaknesses and thank God for them. Why would anyone celebrate weakness? Well you see, Paul realized that there were
many things about his substantial worldly talents and his position as an
apostle of Christ that could easily turn to pride, and cause him to place his
trust primarily in his gifts and abilities rather than in Jesus. And so Paul references a “thorn”: some
shortcoming, torment, or weakness that required his dependence on Jesus.
Though he
initially resisted and tried to overcome whatever that thorn was, he became
capable of giving thanks for it once Jesus assured him that “My grace is
sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” It was a life-changing moment for Paul. He writes, “I will boast all the more gladly
of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses,
insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for
whenever I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Cor. 12:7-10)
Here is where we find real, sacred strength. Holy strength is to rely entirely on Jesus. What does that look like? Let me offer a metaphor. Have you ever seen a beautiful, intricate
mosaic? That beauty is created by
breaking ceramic tiles into small bits. One
might be tempted to view those broken bits as mere waste. But only in their brokenness can they be arranged
and ordered according to the Creator’s vision. Only in their brokenness can they reflect the Creator’s beauty,
resilience, and strength.
This Lent, may
God break our pride, our imagined self-sufficiency, our overconfidence in our intellect
and wealth, our over-reliance on human strength, and our dependency on all
things that are not Christ… so that we may surrender wholly to Christ and rely
solely on him. Only then, in our worldly
weakness, will we finally achieve true and sacred strength. Amen.
Copyright Rev. Scott E. Schul, 2025 All rights reserved. May not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.
GOSPEL
LESSON: Matthew 16:21-23
21 From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples
that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the
elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be
raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, "God
forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you." But he turned and said to
Peter, "Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are
setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."
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