It’s funny that as we grow up we sometimes develop tastes that we never had as a child. For instance, I never liked salad as a child, but developed a taste for Caesar Salad as an adult. While I still don’t like broccoli, somewhere along the way I developed a deep enjoyment of good coffee.
Those are all expected taste developments…but sometimes we are surprised by the things that we develop interests in as we grow older. For instance, as a child I was never really interested in comic books or superheroes, The Batman movies were all very popular when I was in High School, but I don’t think I saw any of them. It wasn’t until years later when I got hooked on Spiderman, and then Batman, and now Superman. Superhero stories have developed an important place in American culture—they resonate with our desire to make the world a better place. They give us hope that the good guys will win, despite the best efforts of the bad guys. Children aspire to be like those heroes—even wanting to dress like them—hoping that one day they might be asked to save the world!
There are lesser-superheroes in our cultural history as well. These guys are not given extra-special power (Spidey-sense, x-ray vision, or super-fast flying speed), but develop their natural skills in order to make a difference in their world. While still legendary fictional characters, these lesser-superheroes remind us that real people can make a difference in the world. Sometimes the line between history and legend is blurred, and whether or not they were historic figures is not as important as the fact that they could have been. Certainly, we think of Robin Hood, King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, and the Lone Ranger. One of my favorite lesser-superheroes is Zorro—that sword-wielding bandit who fought against New Spain for the rights of Californian peasants during the early 1800s.
[In the 1998 film, The Mask of Zorro, the opening scene is of a squadron of Spanish soldiers coming to a village to execute randomly selected (and innocent) citizens as a display of power over the Californian peasants. There is a huge crowd of villagers standing around …
...doing nothing.
Why? Because they’re all asking each other, "Do you think Zorro will come?" and "Will Zorro save the day?"
Sure enough, Zorro shows up, and while one man takes on 40 soldiers, the massive crowd (with a few small exceptions) stands around...
...doing nothing.
Well, okay, they were cheering. Which was very helpful, I’m sure.
Why weren’t they doing anything? Why didn’t they pitch in and help out Zorro? Why didn’t they do anything in the first place?
Perhaps because they were scared. Perhaps because they were lazy. Perhaps because they figured it wasn’t their place to do anything, because they weren’t heroes!] (Zorro illustration used by permission of Douglas Twitchell)
That’s an awful lot like the picture that’s painted in First Samuel chapter 17. Here you have these grown soldiers standing around looking at each other wondering what they will do about Goliath. Nobody steps up to fight Goliath. Either they are too afraid, or they just figure it wasn’t their job. Even the offer of great rewards from the King’s treasury is not enough to entice any of these soldiers to go and fight Goliath.
Maybe they were waiting for a hero. Israelites were used to having Spirit-anointed heroes step in at the last moment to save them. A quick read of the book of Judges gives you a taste of these great superheroes: Ehud, the left-handed man who smuggled a knife into the presence of the overweight king Eglon; Shamgar, who killed 600 Philistines with an oxgoad; Jael, the wife of Heber, who killed the enemy commander by driving a tent stake through his head; Gideon, who lead three-hundred men to victory against the tens-of-thousands of Midianites and Amelekites; and so on, including Samson, whose strength led to the deaths of thousands of Philistines. Perhaps they were waiting for another one of these Spirit-filled judges to come and defeat Goliath.
And finally, their hero appears…in the form of a little boy with a shepherd’s staff, a sling, and five smooth stones. Oh, they try to talk him out of it. They try to dress him up in the King’s armor to give him a fighting chance against the giant. But David reminds them that he does not put his trust in chariots, horses, armor, swords, spears, or javelins—but that He trusts in the Name of the Lord His God. And that little shepherd boy goes out and does what he does best—he throws a rock, and pegs that giant right in the forehead.
I try to imagine what happened in the Israelite camp each morning for the previous forty days. Did King Saul call in all of his leaders for a conference? Did the whole army come together for a pep rally? Did a new item get added to the list of treasures each day, as King Saul hoped to inspire a hero to step out of the ranks? Did the men start chanting the name of the soldier they thought best able to defeat Goliath? And after they got themselves all worked up and excited, what happened then? It appears as though nothing changed, and they continued as before—Goliath jeering, soldiers cowering—hoping that someone else would step up to the plate and take care of the problem.
So often we hope that someone else will do what God has called us to do. We fear that we lack the qualifications or the ability—perhaps someone else can do it better. We busy ourselves with the things that we want to do, and simply assume that someone else will do what needs to be done. Sometimes we wait to be asked—when we know that God has already asked us. Someone else can do a better job reaching our neighbor or family member with the Gospel. Someone else is a better musician or speaker. Someone else’s home is better suited for a small group. Sometimes our waiting for a hero manifests itself as an individual sin—disobeying God’s call on our life.
And sometimes, the Church is guilty of the corporate sin of simply hoping that a hero will come and solve all the problems. We put our hope in programs, or speakers, or a pastor. We are in love with the idea of revival—as long as it doesn’t mean that we have to personally change anything. Too often churches bring in a special speaker simply to get them worked up and excited—but when the speaker goes away, so does the excitement. It wasn’t revival that they wanted—just the idea of a revival. We’re happy to be stirred—as long as we don’t have to be changed. We love to hear a fiery sermon—as long as it’s directed at someone else. We love to be inspired—but not so inspired that we would actually be forced to step out of our comfort zone and do something about it.
“Take me, mold me, use me, fill me, I give my life to the Potter’s hand.” “Change my heart, oh God, make it ever true, Change my heart, oh God, may I be like you.” “Let my hands perform His bidding; let my feet run in His ways; Let my eyes see Jesus only; Let my lips speak forth His praise. All for Jesus! All for Jesus!” They’re easy words to sing. They’re harder words to put into action. After all, we’d much rather have a superhero come and take care of the problem for us.
Someone else will go invite children to our VBS. Someone else ought to take care of cleaning the church next month. Maybe there’s a big giver in the church who can meet that financial shortfall for the month of June. Perhaps someone else will host that new small group.
Fortunately, we’ve been very blessed in this church with people who are willing to pitch in their time and resources to do whatever needs to be done. While some churches struggle with only having 20% of the people doing 80% of the work, that’s generally not been our experience here.
And yet, the story of David is a good reminder that it doesn’t take people with lots of skill or talent to build the kingdom. Battles are not won by mighty warriors, and God doesn’t always choose the rich, handsome, or powerful to do His work. More often, He chooses simple people like you and me to take whatever we do best and use it for Him. After all, God can even use a shepherd boy who knew how to throw rocks.
Just as God asked Moses as he stood by the burning bush, “What’s that you have in your hand? I can use it!” He asks David the same thing, and He asks you the same thing, “What do you have in your hand? Give it to me. I can use it!”
On the one hand, heroes can be dangerous things—after all, they keep us from doing that which we are supposed to do. Who needs to fight Goliath if Superman will come swooping in to save the day? Why bother fight with those Spanish soldiers when Zorro will come riding in on Tornado and take on forty men with his single sword? Why get involved in fighting injustice when Superman is just a speeding bullet away?
The little shepherd boy named David reminds us that we don’t need superhuman powers to do God’s work. He reminds us that armor, swords, spears, and javelins aren’t the tools that God asks us to work with. David reminds us that instead of standing around waiting for a hero to arrive, we ought to jump in and find out what God wants us to do….and then do it. And so, on the one hand, we don’t need a hero—if that hero is only going to do things that we ought to be doing ourselves.
On the other hand, every superhero story I’ve ever read or watched has been a great reminder of the only SuperHero this world has ever needed—Jesus. The real reason that I love superhero stories is not so much because I aspire to be one—but because they remind of Christ. I believe that the reason Superhero stories are so popular in our culture today is because they are primarily retellings of the greatest Narrative of all—the Divine Narrative. For woven into the fiber of our being is a longing to hear and re-hear the story of Jesus. The greatest works of literature in all of history are those that tell the Divine Narrative in one form or another.
As I watch superhero stories, I am amazed as these people of power sacrifice that power and their lives in order to save the ones that they love. They remind me of the great love the Savior has for me. As I see them stand up for the hopeless causes, I’m reminded that Jesus intercedes on my behalf—the greatest hopeless cause of all. As I see them defeat the villains, I’m reminded that Jesus has defeated Satan for all of eternity.
There is a line in the new Superman film that is destined to become a classic quote. Superman is rebuking Lois Lane (the news reporter) for something that she wrote in her Pulitzer Prize-winning article entitled “Why the world doesn’t need Superman.” As he takes her up above the clouds where he goes each night to hear every cry and tragedy in the world, he says to her, “You wrote that the world doesn’t need a saviour, but every day I hear people crying for one.”
The fact of the matter is that the world does need a Savior. But they don’t need a Gideon to wage war against the Midianites, nor do they need a Samson to collapse a building that hosts a Philistine party. Neither do they need a David to throw a rock at Goliath. What the world needs is a Savior who can provide salvation from sins.
The Good News is this—that Savior has already been provided—not in a sword-wielding bandit named Zorro—not in an outer space deliverer named Superman—not through the Spidey-sense of Peter Parker—those superheroes are simply patterned after God’s only Son—Jesus.
Jesus was born into this world for one reason—to save God’s people from their sins. For what we really need freedom from is not the Philistines or the Midianites. While we belong to a nation which won its independence from Britian over 200 years ago, political freedom is not what is most important to us. Neither do we need to be rescued from Spanish soldiers or villains like Lex Luther. What we need is to be freed from our sins—for it is our sins that keep us separated from God, holding us in bondage and slavery. Far worse than political or military oppression is the oppression faced by one locked in bondage to sin.
And it is sin that Jesus came to save us from, so we could once again have a relationship with God Almighty. Jesus lived a perfect life among us—showing us how to live and how to love. And He loved us so much that He died on the cross—the perfect sacrifice for our sins—his blood washing away every stain. And to demonstrate that he defeated death, hell, and the grave—Jesus rose again from the dead on the third day to offer us eternal life.
Our freedom and salvation is finalized contingent upon one simple thing—our acceptance of that free gift. By accepting that gift, we invite Jesus to be Lord of our life—to guide and direct our steps—to not only save us from our sins, but to enable us to live above them. To accept that gift, you must simply confess your sins to God, believe that Jesus died on the cross for those sins, ask Him to forgive you of your sins and to help you to turn from them. Indeed, there is power in the blood of the lamb—power that helps us be truly free.
In a moment, I will pray and ask God to join us here around this table. Upon this table are prepared the bread and the cup which remind us of the body and blood of Jesus which was broken and spilled for us. Those who by faith have accepted Jesus as their Savior and Lord (whether many years ago, or for the first time today) are invited to partake—in so doing may you receive the grace which you need today—probably not the grace to be a superhero, but the grace to take that which you have in your hand and use it for His glory—and be truly heroic!
After we pray, you may come and receive the elements, and return to your seats where we will partake together.
Let us pray.
Benediction: May God, who puts all things together,
makes all things whole,
Who made a lasting mark through the sacrifice of Jesus,
the sacrifice of blood that sealed the eternal covenant,
Who led Jesus, our Great Shepherd,
up and alive from the dead,
Now put you together, provide you
with everything you need to please him,
Make us into what gives him most pleasure,
by means of the sacrifice of Jesus, the Messiah.
All glory to Jesus forever and always!
Oh, yes, yes, yes.
(Listen to this sermon online @ http://www.capenazarene.org/ftp/sermonaudio/cecn_070206_hero.mp3)
