POWER the JESUS WAY
A caveat: This reflection on power the Jesus Way doesn’t address situations such as the unprovoked attack on Ukraine from Russia, or the conflict in Palestine, and the like. I’m concerned with what power means for followers of Jesus who said, “Blessed are the peacemakers.”
Recently I read a Facebook post that complained about people who think Christians should be “weak doormats in the name of gentle Jesus.” Christians should, the post continued, “exercise POWER!” I’m not sure what the writer of the post meant by POWER, but assume the opposite of ‘weak doormats’ and a ‘gentle’ (weak?) Jesus. Whatever, it got me wondering about power and what it means to exercise power the Jesus’ Way.
Understandings about the meaning of power are multiple and varied, even among Christians. The way the concept of power is defined, is shaped by the picture we have of Jesus. If, for instance, he’s pictured as “a conquering warrior, a man’s man who takes no prisoners and wages a holy war,”[1] then our practice of power will lean towards militancy, brute force, violence, including recourse to lethal weapons. I think we saw something like this in the January 6 assault on the U. S. Capitol that ended up being both destructive of property and costly of human lives (some died). Many attackers claimed to be Christian, and brandished Christian symbols and signs. They also carried lethal weapons and were willing to violently attack those who opposed them. They believed that what they did was done in the name of Jesus. Perhaps they saw themselves as warriors for Jesus waging a holy war against their enemy.
If, on the other hand, we picture Jesus as a peacemaker, merciful, loving to all peoples, we’ll reject a power that is violent and destructive. Instead, we’ll seek peace not violence, love not hate, hope not fear, inclusion not exclusion. Christian men and women around the world have exercised power this way throughout history. Amazingly, many of them have brought about miraculous changes, love where there was hatred, peace where there was violence.
The way of power we choose will depend on our picture of Jesus, that is, who and what we think he is and stands for.
The four Gospels tell us much about Jesus and his way of exercising power and I believe we should read them regularly. But for this brief essay, I turn to the last book of the Bible, Revelation. The visions in this book are rich in symbols that reflect ways how power is exercised, and by whom. They give us much to work with as we too struggle to know how to exercise power the Jesus’ Way and not the way of the world and the devil.
Symbols of power in Revelation
One of Revelation’s power images that depicts a forceful, muscular kind of power, and an image that catches my imagination, is the dragon (ch. 12). With one flick of its tail, it can send a third of the stars hurtling to the earth. I suspect many of us wanted that kind of power after the 9/11 attack on the U.S., and perhaps some wanted it on January 6th. If only we could access dragon-power, we think, we’d decisively defeat our opposition and our destructive and cruel enemies. Whenever I hear political candidates bragging that, if elected, they’d “carpet bomb” or “bomb the bleep out of” our enemies, or hear religious leaders urging their followers to be warriors for God, to own and use guns to violently to defeat the enemy, I think of Revelation’s dragon. Those politicians and religious leaders have chosen dragon-power.
The trouble is, the dragon, who represents so much of what is being taught about power in some Christian circles today—ruthlessness, militancy, violence, support of guns[2]—is a symbol of Satan and evil, God’s enemy. When we choose dragon-power, claiming to be a “warrior of God,” we’re in danger, as Tomáš Halík warns, of “placing [ourselves] in the field of play of God’s ancient adversary. If a person of hate redefines his expressions of hatred toward others as ‘a holy war’ and part of a cosmic conflict between Good and Evil, he is burning any bridges that might lead to reconciliation and reasonable agreement.”[3] Christians should reject dragon-power in all its forms.
Some images of Jesus in Revelation[4] suggest he is one who exercises power in ways that, at first, seem to support the warrior and militant mentality, a power that ruthlessly destroys the enemy. The first one is in the first vision of Jesus in chapter one (vv. 12-16). The writer sees a towering, forceful figure who can’t be controlled and won’t be manipulated. This is no gentle-Jesus-meek-and-mild figure. Of the seven items John sees on this image, at least three appear to be militant and warrior-like—a two-edged sword in his mouth, eyes of fire, and a voice like the sound of many waters. However, these terms are often used as symbols of judgment in Scripture. In other words, John sees Jesus in his role as Judge. The sword in his mouth rather than his hand suggests that judgment comes through his words, not ruthless force with his hands. This is similar to the sixth vision of Jesus (ch 19, a popular vision with militant evangelicals) where he’s seen on a white horse with a sword, not in his hand, but once again in his mouth. He defeats the enemy, not with physical violence, a literal sword in hand, but with the word from his mouth. Not surprisingly he is called “the Word of God” (19:13), emphasizing that it’s his word not his aggressive action with a literal weapon that will destroy the enemy.
What’s most startling about this towering figure of the first vision with its symbols of judgment is that Jesus stands, not in opposition to his (or our) enemies, to judge and then destroy them, but “in the midst of seven golden lampstands,” which, as John explains, are the seven churches of Asia Minor (1:20). These local churches are representative of all local churches, right up to this day. In other words, this towering, forceful, judge-like figure isn’t standing in the midst of the world, to judge the world and rid it of his, or our enemies. He’s standing in the midst of every local church of Jesus Christ, to judge us, the church, his own people. It’s easy to miss this if we don’t pay careful attention or if we desire violent elimination of our enemies. And it’s easy to miss Jesus and hear his word when we keep talking so loudly and never become silent.
Another image of seeming forceful, muscular power is in the second vision of Jesus in chapters four and five where he’s called “the Lion of the tribe of Judah” (5:5). A lion, a common symbol for power, is no push-over creature, but one to be feared. It suggests the kind of power we want when we’re under attack from an enemy. It’s not surprising that this is a favorite image among those Christians who promote violence and guns. Jesus as a Lion is a wonderful image and it’s tempting to focus on it, as supporter of violence do. However, neither Revelation nor the rest of the New Testament focuses on it. This one verse in Revelation is the only time in Scripture that Jesus is symbolized with the image of a lion. Elsewhere in Scripture, the lion is used as a symbol of disaster, as in the Psalms,[5] or of the devil, as in Peter’s warning, “Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour” (1 Pet 5:8). It isn’t an image of Jesus.
So, it’s not surprising that when John, the writer, turned to see the Lion of the Tribe of Judah, he didn’t see a lion. Instead, he saw “a Lamb standing as if it had been slaughtered” (5:6). The contrast between a lion and a slaughtered lamb couldn’t be greater—the one an image of power, the other of weakness. But it’s with the image of a lamb that Jesus is most often associated in the New Testament. John the Baptizer introduced Jesus as “the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). Revelation portrays Jesus as a lamb over twenty times (in 22 chapters). It seems that Jesus is most often symbolized with an image that is viewed as weak and vulnerable by most of us.
A lamb doesn’t make us think of Jesus as “a conquering warrior, a man’s man who takes no prisoners and wages a holy war.” Of course, we know that Jesus is powerful and will restore all creation under God’s Sovereign rule, subduing all God’s enemies. But the lamb as a symbol for Jesus, especially a wounded lamb, should cause us to rethink the meaning of power and the kind of power God in Jesus exercises. His way of power has very little in common with how many define it today. Jesus’ way isn’t a ruthless force violently destroying our enemies. And it’s Jesus’ way of power that should be a Christian’s guide on how to exercise it.
The image of the wounded Lamb in chapter five, unlike the towering figure of chapter one, stands not in the local church, but at the center of the universe, next to God’s throne. All creation, from the people of God to “every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea” (5:13), are in this scene, standing in ever larger concentric circles that move out from the throne. At the center of it all stands Jesus, looking like a lamb that has been slaughtered. In the church, he exercises power in the form of not-to-be-messed-with authority. In the world, he exercises power through humility and vulnerability. Indeed, he is the “gentle Jesus, meek and mild,” to whom I was taught to pray as a child.
It’s challenging to visualize power, not as a dragon or beast or lion, but as a wounded lamb. But this is the kind of power Jesus wields. And it works. The Bible forces us to rethink the meaning of power. It may not be what we know or even want, but it’s this seemingly weak, vulnerable figure who brings down the world’s powerful from their thrones and lifts up the lowly (Luke 1:52). No one, not even in Bible times, considers a lamb, especially a wounded lamb a symbol of power. It’s this seeming weak image that God chooses to pit against the dragon. This isn’t what we’d choose to defeat enemies who attack us with heavy weapons or people who disagree with our issues and theologies and politics. But the wounded Lamb, Jesus, is God’s choice. His way is one of peace, humility, compassion, truth. He conquers through love and gentleness, not force and violence.
How should we then live?
Let’s get practical. How are we, Christians to exercise power? Shortly before his arrest Jesus called himself the Good Shepherd, a word used for rulers. He then taught about his way of exercising rulership and power (John 10:11-18). It isn’t through military might or political influence. “The good shepherd,” said Jesus, “lays down his life for the sheep.” He repeated this phrase four more times in eight verses. This isn’t POWER! as we saw it on January 6, but neither is it weak or doormat-ish. But it’s Jesus’ way and we’re called to be like him.
The writer of first John repeats this teaching, applying it directly to the church. He reminds us that, in love, Jesus laid down his life for us, then urged his readers, “we ought to lay down our lives for one another” (3:16). We exercise power the Jesus’ way, by laying down our lives, making ourselves vulnerable for and to one another. The world may see this as weakness, as being a “weak doormat.” But we’re not living for the world, but for Jesus, the Lamb who exercises his power by laying down his life for his sheep.
With the song writer, Chris Christensen, our prayer to Jesus can be: “I want to be like you, moved by your mercy, filled with compassion, changed by your love.”
[1] Jesus and John Wayne: How white evangelicals corrupted the faith and fractured a nation by Kristin Kobes Du Mez. 2020, pg. 5.
[2] In her book, Du Mez records the teachings of some American white evangelicals who view power as a violent, ruthless brute force.
[3] I Want You to Be by Tomáš Halík. 2016, pg. 33.
[4] Images of Jesus are given in seven visions of Jesus that John receives and records throughout Revelation.
[5] The psalmists use the lion as the symbol of what troubled or opposed them. For example, from Ps 22:21 “Save me from the mouth of the lion!” See also Pss 35:17, 91:13.
Jackie Smallbones ©
March 2022
Posted 3/24/2022
Recently I read a Facebook post that complained about people who think Christians should be “weak doormats in the name of gentle Jesus.” Christians should, the post continued, “exercise POWER!” I’m not sure what the writer of the post meant by POWER, but assume the opposite of ‘weak doormats’ and a ‘gentle’ (weak?) Jesus. Whatever, it got me wondering about power and what it means to exercise power the Jesus’ Way.
Understandings about the meaning of power are multiple and varied, even among Christians. The way the concept of power is defined, is shaped by the picture we have of Jesus. If, for instance, he’s pictured as “a conquering warrior, a man’s man who takes no prisoners and wages a holy war,”[1] then our practice of power will lean towards militancy, brute force, violence, including recourse to lethal weapons. I think we saw something like this in the January 6 assault on the U. S. Capitol that ended up being both destructive of property and costly of human lives (some died). Many attackers claimed to be Christian, and brandished Christian symbols and signs. They also carried lethal weapons and were willing to violently attack those who opposed them. They believed that what they did was done in the name of Jesus. Perhaps they saw themselves as warriors for Jesus waging a holy war against their enemy.
If, on the other hand, we picture Jesus as a peacemaker, merciful, loving to all peoples, we’ll reject a power that is violent and destructive. Instead, we’ll seek peace not violence, love not hate, hope not fear, inclusion not exclusion. Christian men and women around the world have exercised power this way throughout history. Amazingly, many of them have brought about miraculous changes, love where there was hatred, peace where there was violence.
The way of power we choose will depend on our picture of Jesus, that is, who and what we think he is and stands for.
The four Gospels tell us much about Jesus and his way of exercising power and I believe we should read them regularly. But for this brief essay, I turn to the last book of the Bible, Revelation. The visions in this book are rich in symbols that reflect ways how power is exercised, and by whom. They give us much to work with as we too struggle to know how to exercise power the Jesus’ Way and not the way of the world and the devil.
Symbols of power in Revelation
One of Revelation’s power images that depicts a forceful, muscular kind of power, and an image that catches my imagination, is the dragon (ch. 12). With one flick of its tail, it can send a third of the stars hurtling to the earth. I suspect many of us wanted that kind of power after the 9/11 attack on the U.S., and perhaps some wanted it on January 6th. If only we could access dragon-power, we think, we’d decisively defeat our opposition and our destructive and cruel enemies. Whenever I hear political candidates bragging that, if elected, they’d “carpet bomb” or “bomb the bleep out of” our enemies, or hear religious leaders urging their followers to be warriors for God, to own and use guns to violently to defeat the enemy, I think of Revelation’s dragon. Those politicians and religious leaders have chosen dragon-power.
The trouble is, the dragon, who represents so much of what is being taught about power in some Christian circles today—ruthlessness, militancy, violence, support of guns[2]—is a symbol of Satan and evil, God’s enemy. When we choose dragon-power, claiming to be a “warrior of God,” we’re in danger, as Tomáš Halík warns, of “placing [ourselves] in the field of play of God’s ancient adversary. If a person of hate redefines his expressions of hatred toward others as ‘a holy war’ and part of a cosmic conflict between Good and Evil, he is burning any bridges that might lead to reconciliation and reasonable agreement.”[3] Christians should reject dragon-power in all its forms.
Some images of Jesus in Revelation[4] suggest he is one who exercises power in ways that, at first, seem to support the warrior and militant mentality, a power that ruthlessly destroys the enemy. The first one is in the first vision of Jesus in chapter one (vv. 12-16). The writer sees a towering, forceful figure who can’t be controlled and won’t be manipulated. This is no gentle-Jesus-meek-and-mild figure. Of the seven items John sees on this image, at least three appear to be militant and warrior-like—a two-edged sword in his mouth, eyes of fire, and a voice like the sound of many waters. However, these terms are often used as symbols of judgment in Scripture. In other words, John sees Jesus in his role as Judge. The sword in his mouth rather than his hand suggests that judgment comes through his words, not ruthless force with his hands. This is similar to the sixth vision of Jesus (ch 19, a popular vision with militant evangelicals) where he’s seen on a white horse with a sword, not in his hand, but once again in his mouth. He defeats the enemy, not with physical violence, a literal sword in hand, but with the word from his mouth. Not surprisingly he is called “the Word of God” (19:13), emphasizing that it’s his word not his aggressive action with a literal weapon that will destroy the enemy.
What’s most startling about this towering figure of the first vision with its symbols of judgment is that Jesus stands, not in opposition to his (or our) enemies, to judge and then destroy them, but “in the midst of seven golden lampstands,” which, as John explains, are the seven churches of Asia Minor (1:20). These local churches are representative of all local churches, right up to this day. In other words, this towering, forceful, judge-like figure isn’t standing in the midst of the world, to judge the world and rid it of his, or our enemies. He’s standing in the midst of every local church of Jesus Christ, to judge us, the church, his own people. It’s easy to miss this if we don’t pay careful attention or if we desire violent elimination of our enemies. And it’s easy to miss Jesus and hear his word when we keep talking so loudly and never become silent.
Another image of seeming forceful, muscular power is in the second vision of Jesus in chapters four and five where he’s called “the Lion of the tribe of Judah” (5:5). A lion, a common symbol for power, is no push-over creature, but one to be feared. It suggests the kind of power we want when we’re under attack from an enemy. It’s not surprising that this is a favorite image among those Christians who promote violence and guns. Jesus as a Lion is a wonderful image and it’s tempting to focus on it, as supporter of violence do. However, neither Revelation nor the rest of the New Testament focuses on it. This one verse in Revelation is the only time in Scripture that Jesus is symbolized with the image of a lion. Elsewhere in Scripture, the lion is used as a symbol of disaster, as in the Psalms,[5] or of the devil, as in Peter’s warning, “Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour” (1 Pet 5:8). It isn’t an image of Jesus.
So, it’s not surprising that when John, the writer, turned to see the Lion of the Tribe of Judah, he didn’t see a lion. Instead, he saw “a Lamb standing as if it had been slaughtered” (5:6). The contrast between a lion and a slaughtered lamb couldn’t be greater—the one an image of power, the other of weakness. But it’s with the image of a lamb that Jesus is most often associated in the New Testament. John the Baptizer introduced Jesus as “the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). Revelation portrays Jesus as a lamb over twenty times (in 22 chapters). It seems that Jesus is most often symbolized with an image that is viewed as weak and vulnerable by most of us.
A lamb doesn’t make us think of Jesus as “a conquering warrior, a man’s man who takes no prisoners and wages a holy war.” Of course, we know that Jesus is powerful and will restore all creation under God’s Sovereign rule, subduing all God’s enemies. But the lamb as a symbol for Jesus, especially a wounded lamb, should cause us to rethink the meaning of power and the kind of power God in Jesus exercises. His way of power has very little in common with how many define it today. Jesus’ way isn’t a ruthless force violently destroying our enemies. And it’s Jesus’ way of power that should be a Christian’s guide on how to exercise it.
The image of the wounded Lamb in chapter five, unlike the towering figure of chapter one, stands not in the local church, but at the center of the universe, next to God’s throne. All creation, from the people of God to “every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea” (5:13), are in this scene, standing in ever larger concentric circles that move out from the throne. At the center of it all stands Jesus, looking like a lamb that has been slaughtered. In the church, he exercises power in the form of not-to-be-messed-with authority. In the world, he exercises power through humility and vulnerability. Indeed, he is the “gentle Jesus, meek and mild,” to whom I was taught to pray as a child.
It’s challenging to visualize power, not as a dragon or beast or lion, but as a wounded lamb. But this is the kind of power Jesus wields. And it works. The Bible forces us to rethink the meaning of power. It may not be what we know or even want, but it’s this seemingly weak, vulnerable figure who brings down the world’s powerful from their thrones and lifts up the lowly (Luke 1:52). No one, not even in Bible times, considers a lamb, especially a wounded lamb a symbol of power. It’s this seeming weak image that God chooses to pit against the dragon. This isn’t what we’d choose to defeat enemies who attack us with heavy weapons or people who disagree with our issues and theologies and politics. But the wounded Lamb, Jesus, is God’s choice. His way is one of peace, humility, compassion, truth. He conquers through love and gentleness, not force and violence.
How should we then live?
Let’s get practical. How are we, Christians to exercise power? Shortly before his arrest Jesus called himself the Good Shepherd, a word used for rulers. He then taught about his way of exercising rulership and power (John 10:11-18). It isn’t through military might or political influence. “The good shepherd,” said Jesus, “lays down his life for the sheep.” He repeated this phrase four more times in eight verses. This isn’t POWER! as we saw it on January 6, but neither is it weak or doormat-ish. But it’s Jesus’ way and we’re called to be like him.
The writer of first John repeats this teaching, applying it directly to the church. He reminds us that, in love, Jesus laid down his life for us, then urged his readers, “we ought to lay down our lives for one another” (3:16). We exercise power the Jesus’ way, by laying down our lives, making ourselves vulnerable for and to one another. The world may see this as weakness, as being a “weak doormat.” But we’re not living for the world, but for Jesus, the Lamb who exercises his power by laying down his life for his sheep.
With the song writer, Chris Christensen, our prayer to Jesus can be: “I want to be like you, moved by your mercy, filled with compassion, changed by your love.”
[1] Jesus and John Wayne: How white evangelicals corrupted the faith and fractured a nation by Kristin Kobes Du Mez. 2020, pg. 5.
[2] In her book, Du Mez records the teachings of some American white evangelicals who view power as a violent, ruthless brute force.
[3] I Want You to Be by Tomáš Halík. 2016, pg. 33.
[4] Images of Jesus are given in seven visions of Jesus that John receives and records throughout Revelation.
[5] The psalmists use the lion as the symbol of what troubled or opposed them. For example, from Ps 22:21 “Save me from the mouth of the lion!” See also Pss 35:17, 91:13.
Jackie Smallbones ©
March 2022
Posted 3/24/2022
