ENOCUNTER THE POWER
This week, we had a hero in the news. This man was twice nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize because of his work among disadvantaged, at risk kids and his utter determination to keep them off streets and out of gangs. He has written books on the subject and dedicated his life to the cause. He had behind him thousands of supporters for his right to the prize. The man was also on death row and executed this week for the killing of four people as the co-founder of the notorious Crips gang. An unlikely hero, and I realize that many would refuse to call him such. I am not telling you which side to believe—I am just telling you about who he was.
Stanley Tookie Williams was born in Shreveport, La. but moved at an early age to South Central Los Angeles. In his teen years, he ran the streets, and by 13 started using drugs. When he formed the Crips gang with his friend Raymond Washington, he discovered what he had longed for—power. As a Crip, he had power in the streets. People feared him, obeyed him, and fought to be like him. Later, the State of California had the power to punish him—and it did. But before Tookie Williams died, he gave testimony to another power, greater, more amazing, more incredible than anything he’d ever wielded as a gang leader. "That was a bogus role anyway," he said of his gang days. "I didn’t have any power. Being part of that was being part of something destructive. It was a causeless cause."
Listen to what Tookie Williams had to say about his life.
“Twenty-five years ago when I created the Crips youth gang in South Central Los Angeles, I never imagined Crips membership would one day spread to much of the rest of the nation and to cities in South Africa. I also didn’t expect the Crips to end up ruining the lives of so many young people.
So today I apologize to you all -- the children of America and South Africa -- who must cope every day with dangerous street gangs. I no longer participate in the gangster lifestyle, and I deeply regret that I ever did.
As a contribution to the struggle to end this brutality, I have written the Tookie Speaks Out Against Gang Violence children’s book series. My goal is to reach as many young minds as possible to warn you about the perils of a gang lifestyle. I am no longer part of the problem. Thanks to the Almighty, I am no longer sleepwalking through life.
I pray that one day my apology will be accepted. I also pray that your suffering, caused by gang violence, will soon come to an end as more gang members wake up and stop hurting themselves and others.
I vow to spend the rest of my life working toward solutions.”
And he did, as supporters say he has received more than 50,000 e-mails from youth, parents, teachers and even law enforcement officers from around the world testifying that his writings changed and saved lives. 50,000 changed lives. That, my friends, is power. Why do I tell you this long story? Because as Tookie dedicated his final years to redemption–he had encountered real power.
As we close out this series of sermons based on the Chronicles of Narnia movie and books, let me tell you about one last reason the world is drawn to this beautiful story. We have already talked about how the books appeal to the human need for adventure and wonder, and how the Christ of Christmas is the only way to fulfill those needs. Today, we’ll talk about one last deep human need—the need for power.
From first ‘no’ the first child uttered to the first parent, we know—the whole world is searching for power. We want to feel some control over life, over our circumstances, over our future. Perhaps it’s a deep wish to have back the control God gave us in the garden—“Be masters over the fish and birds and all animals,” (Genesis 1:28). Or more likely, it’s a hunger for the control we tried to take in the garden, to become like God.
If you’ve ever done full battle with a two-year-old old over broccoli left on a plate, you know—the whole world is longing for power, from a very young age.
The people of Narnia thought the great Lion would deliver on the ancient promise of power. “At the sound of His roar, sorrows will be no more, when he bares his teeth, winter meets its death.” They thought he would release them from evil and fight on their side. And he did. But not as they had expected.
The four children, Lucy, Edmund, Susan, and Peter, felt powerless because of the war. I’ve never been in the middle of an air raid, but I imagine it would be one of the most powerless feelings you could have. Then, sent away from their home in London to keep them safe, they continue to feel terrible powerlessness, knowing their father is at war and their mother at horrible risk still at home. Being left in the dubious care of a tartar housekeeper and a rarely-seen professor does not soothe their feelings too much.
Then, through the magic of the wardrobe, the children find themselves thrust into the land of Narnia, where almost immediately they are informed that they are actually kings and queens of the land—at least in prophesy. Imagine the transformation. You’re the mailroom clerk and suddenly find out you’ve been made the CEO. You’ve gone from social zero at high school to head cheerleader or first string quarterback overnight. It’s quite an alluring promise—and Edmund falls for the deal right away when the White Witch offers it. “I want a nice boy whom I could bring up as a Prince and who would be King of Narnia when I am gone. I think I would like to make you the Prince—some day, when you bring the others to me.” He believes her promise of quick power and imagines his kingship long before he ever finishes the conversation.
The other three children also hear a promise to be kings and queens—but their promise is not so easy. They learn that their road to power lies through war and fear and sacrifice—for only those who can truly comprehend power can wield it.
Most of us, and the people around us, feel powerless. We feel powerless at our jobs—it’s a dead end job, going nowhere, my boss doesn’t understand me, my coworkers are jerks. Powerless feelings at school—I can’t understand these classes, I’m not good enough for the team, my friends have betrayed me for someone better. Some feel powerless because of their age, not beings able to do the things they once could. Or illness saps our power. And most of us feel powerless because there is a war going on right now, and we small people seem unable to change world matters at all. But I would say to you as the Beaver said to the children--Aslan is on the move. Power is available. Jesus came to give it. But, let’s remember what the great Lion told the children when they asked for it. “All shall be done. But it may be harder than you think.”
Jesus came that Christmas day long ago to give us power. But it may not look as we envision it. Though sometimes He does come in miraculous power and mighty deeds still today, the power He came to give is even more mighty than those things. If more of us understood this power, I truly believe that the promise of the angels—“peace on earth”--just might be possible. So what is the real power Jesus came to give?
1. Real power comes in forgiving.
We are familiar with the names of Lisa and Todd Beamer. Lisa is the reluctant heroine of 9/11. A New Jersey housewife happy to be anonymous, Lisa was thrust into a spotlight she didn’t want, and certainly she didn’t want it as it came, through the death of her husband in the Pennsylvania airplane crash of 9/11. Yet in one of her many interviews, this one with NBC’s Dateline, Lisa told about how Todd had prayed Lord’s prayer with the telephone operator just before he died, and how the woman said he had emphasized one particular line in the prayer. Lisa explains, “You know, in the Lord’s Prayer, it asks us to forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. As Todd prayed this prayer in the last moments of his life, in a way, he was forgiving those people for what they were doing, the most horrible thing you could ever do to someone." Lisa said, honestly, that she was working through her own forgiveness, refusing to allow the terrorists to have any more power in her life. I ask you this morning, who has more power over the hearts and minds of the American people today—the terrorists, or the man who prayed to forgive his enemies before he died?
Edmund had betrayed his brother and sisters. He agreed to bring them to the White Witch, and if he didn’t know she intended to kill them, he certainly knew she didn’t plan fun and games. He knew that she had promised to make them his servants in fact, and he not only accepted but delighted in that plan, knowing quite well that servants might be turned to stone if they didn’t behave on her terms. Yet after Aslan saves him from her hand and brings him back to the camp to join his sisters and brother, he has a little talk with Edmund and then presents him to his siblings with these beautiful words. “Here is your brother. And—there is no need to talk to him about what is past.” And to the children’s credit, they don’t. They don’t hold it over his head. They don’t tell him, “Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” They leave it in the past.
Two-thousand years ago, another Peter discussed the same issue with Jesus. "Lord, how often should I forgive someone who sins against me? Seven times?" (Matthew 18:21). Peter’s question was a legitimate one, on the hearts of most people, and he surely thought he was being very generous with an offer to forgive seven times. After all, Rabbinic teaching required only that a man must forgive his brother three times. So seven!—Peter must have figured he’d really get Jesus’ stamp of approval on this one. He’d more than doubled the quota. So he’s rather taken aback at Jesus’ reply. “No! Seventy times seven!” Which, as we all know, in God’s figuring means to infinity and beyond.
As Presbyterian minister Rev. Dr. David E. Leininger explains, “Why do you suppose Jesus makes such a big deal about a little thing like forgiveness? I believe the answer is that real forgiveness is NOT a little thing - in fact, it is one of the most powerful forces in the universe. It is the only thing in this world that actually has the power to change the past.”
All the armies in world don’t have the power of forgiveness. To not forgive drags us back into the past, allows us to be pulled back into old mistakes, old bitterness, old frustrations. Forgiveness enables us to let go of past.
In the decisive battle to save Narnia, Peter and Edmund must fight on the same side. In the end, as the battle climaxes, both brothers are called on to save one another. Without hesitation, each risks his own life for that of his brother. Later, Peter warmly praises Edmund and tells Aslan that the battle could not have been won without him. What would have happened if they boys had not been able to completely forgive? The battle would have been lost. Without unity, either between people or within your own soul if you are conflicted over forgiving someone, you cannot move forward in any battle you face.
The ability to forgive is the ability to wield incredible power. “Forgiveness is a decision about how to deal with what supposedly is beyond our reach - history - the past” (Leininger). We can choose revenge—and remain chained in the past. Or we can choose forgiveness, and be freed. By letting go of our sense of being wronged, we can also let go of bitterness and resentment and make room in our lives for joy and acceptance. To use the power of forgiveness means that we take control of how we feel about the past. We can say, “I don’t have to be ruled by the past. I don’t have to be dominated by circumstances that were out of my control. I am not subject anymore to what was done to me. It’s over—and I’m not chained by it.
The nomination of “Tookie” Williams for a Nobel Peace Prize set off controversy because it touched the nerve of basic human feelings about justice. If a man commits horrific crimes and later recommits his life to saving others -- is that redemption? Is he entitled to forgiveness, not to mention a Nobel Prize? Many did not believe so. As one victims’ rights supporter argued, “It has nothing to do with forgiveness. It has nothing to do with redemption. And I really believe that society has to say – no.” But I am here to tell you today--it has everything to do with redemption. It has everything to do with forgiveness.
A Native American boy was talking with his grandfather. "What do you think about the world situation?" he asked. The grandfather replied, "I feel like two wolves are fighting in my heart. One is full of anger and hatred. The other is full of love, forgiveness and peace." "Which one will win?" asked the boy.
To which the grandfather replied, "The one I feed."
Blessed are the meek—why? Because the whole earth belongs to the forgiving. They are the only ones who can walk freely on it, without chains of the past. No other religion of the world relies on the power of forgiveness as Christianity does. No other religion teaches the strength in mercy. What would happen if people understood this power? What would happen between countries? Between political parties? Between husbands and wives? In families, churches, workplaces? Jesus came to give power—but it may be harder than we think. He came to give the power of forgiveness.
2. Real power comes in being forgiven.
Edmund had been forgiven—and he had a job to do. In the course of battle, when their side is being beaten badly and the Witch is turning everyone to stone right and left, it is Edmund who has the wisdom to attack not the witch but her wand and smash it with his sword. Peter later commends this act as having been the one which turned the tide and won the battle. Could Edmund have done such a thing if he still felt like a whipped, unwanted puppy? I don’t think so. Edmund felt the power of having been forgiven.
After the battle, as Lucy makes he rounds of healing, she says, “she found Edmund not only healed of his wounds but looking better than she had seen him look—oh, for ages; in fact ever since his first term at that horrid school which was where he had begun to go wrong. He had become his real old self again and could look you in the face.” Later, he is crowned “Edmund the Just,” and ever after when dealing himself with traitors and criminals, he reserved the right to allow others to change their course. “I have known at least one who did,” he would say. Edmund understood the incredible power in being forgiven.
Do we live life as ones who are forgiven? Have we stepped into our roles as princes and princesses of the land? Because that is what we are. Or did we pray the prayer, ask Jesus to come into our hearts, but have only a vague idea of sins saved from and a hazy knowledge of what difference it made besides getting us a ticket to heaven? An article this week in US News said that Lewis in his writings kept returning to this central question--“What have you been saved for?” You see, it is not enough to be saved from—what have you been saved for?
I received a list recently that detailed a few of the statements God makes about His children. Listen to just a small part of what God has to say about you if you are living in Christ:
I am blessed with every spiritual blessing in Christ
I am holy and blameless before God
I am adopted as God’s a child
I have been redeemed and forgiven
I have a great inheritance according to the promise of God
I am marked by the Holy Spirit as one who belongs to God
I am God’s masterpiece created for good works
I am a dwelling place for God
I share in the promises of Christ
I can come with boldness and confidence into God’s presence
I am chosen
I am beloved
I cannot be taken out of his heart.
Do you believe these things are true? I myself felt their power at a time in my life when I felt extremely powerless, terribly worthless. And when my pastor handed me a list much like this one, I thought, “OK, Bible verses. That’s nice. But what difference is that really going to make in how I feel inside?” But in pondering the real meaning of these verses I discovered—it makes all the difference. If we believe it is true, it changes everything. Because once you truly understand the power in being forgiven, no person, no circumstance, no event can ever take away from you who you are in Christ. Your worth is not determined by your parents, by your wealth, by whether or not you made the team, by your grades, by the things your parents said about you as a child, by your job status, your marital status, the car you drive, or the sins you’ve committed. It is determined by whether or not you are a forgiven person, a child of the King. There is great power in being forgiven.
3. Real power comes in sacrifice
Now we come to the climactic event of the movie. If you have not seen it, I am now going to spoil the ending for you, so if you don’t want to know, cover your ears. This is the moment it all turns on. While it is true that Aslan saves Edmund from the Witch’s camp and returns him to his family, the children do not know what he does—that that is not the end of the story. For the Witch appears again to claim her own. She comes to Aslan’s camp and reminds him of the Deep Magic written by the Creator himself. The magic promised that any traitors belonged to the Witch. They were hers by right and could not be taken away, according to law. Edmund, she demanded, must be returned, and die. Aslan knew this as well as she.
In the course of negotiations, however, a different arrangement is made. Aslan offers his own life for that of the traitor. He offers to die in Edmund’s place, and the Witch is quick to accept. There on the stone table, she plunges a knife into his heart and kills the Great Lion. But there are some surprises still in store for the Witch. Aslan does not remain dead. He returns to life, fully and with majesty, and finally defeats the Witch himself in battle. As he explains to the stunned children, “Though the witch knew the deep magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who has committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the table would crack and death itself would start working backward.”
There is a deeper magic that those who seek power do not understand. It is the magic that felled the Berlin Wall peacefully, when enough people became willing to sacrifice for others’ futures. It is the magic that created Tiananmen Square which, although it did not succeed, still has repercussions in Chinese culture and belief. It is the magic that drew people to the early church while it sustained heavy persecution. It is the magic that has caused survivors of Hurricane Katrina to exclaim, “I didn’t know people loved like this anymore,” when homes have been opened and resources given. It is the magic that has toppled the greatest superpowers of this world, time, and time, and time again. It is the deep magic of self-sacrifice. The ultimate “magic” that Jesus came to give.
“He was despised and rejected -- a man of sorrows, I’ acquainted with bitterest grief. We turned our backs on him and looked the other way when he went by. He was despised, and we did not care. Yet it is our weaknesses he carried; it was our sorrows that weighed him down. He was wounded and crushed for our sins. He was beaten that we might have peace. He was whipped, and we were healed. He was oppressed and treated harshly, yet he never said a word. From prison and trial they were led him away to his death. But who among the people realized that he was dying for their sins -- that he was suffering their punishment? Yet when his life is made an offering for sin, he will have a multitude of children, many heirs when we in. He will enjoy a long life, and the Lord’s plan will prosper in his hands” (Isaiah 53).
That power has toppled world makers and power brokers for two centuries. Will it work in your life? Let me ask you, how much has the opposite worked for you? How much has gaining things, making sure you had “enough” to feel secure worked? We have a myth in America that security is power. It’s a lie. You can never have enough to feel secure. And what you have you can lose tomorrow. Ask the folks in Louisiana. They will tell you—power comes in sacrifice. That’s where they’ve seen the real power. And that’s where we’ve seen it too.
The Narnian people expected Aslan to fight with them and win the battle. They didn’t expect him to go away or die. That’s not the kind of power they expected to experience.
The Hebrew people expected the Messiah to come and fight their battle, to win the day. They did not expect a baby, the most powerless of the powerless. They did not expect a suffering servant. But that is what we got, because for all to be done, it was harder than we thought.
The world is still looking for a battle, for a champion. As the Narnia forces line up for battle, their 5,000 against the enemy’s 15,000, the brave centaur assures Peter, “Numbers do not win a battle.” “No,” answers Peter, “but I bet they help.” The world is looking for numbers. Decisive victory. Security. Christians need to look instead to the power Jesus brought—the power of forgiveness and sacrifice. It’s an unexpected place to find power—in a manger. But that power has changed the world for two centuries. The question is, do we have the courage to wield it?
