Looking to Meet Jesus

Antipas, Herod the Tetrarch, was a weak man. His life was a series of circumstances, failed relationships and poor decisions all bearing the markers of weakness.

He was not a king, like his father, but a petty ruler of a quarter of a former kingdom, and the least valuable part at that. He divorced his first wife to marry the wife of his half-brother and thus squander political alliances. Criticized by a wild man in the desert, John the Baptist, he arrested him and put him in prison. Not knowing what to do next, he was seduced by his stepdaughter and tricked into executing the prophet. Terrible decision. When Jesus was brought before him, Herod the Tetrarch did nothing. He was though disappointed that Jesus didn’t perform any magic. Squandering his opportunity, he returned Jesus to Pontius Pilate without direction or verdict.

Twice Antipas appealed to Rome to gain more power; twice he was denied. Near the end of his life, at the urging of his wife, he waged war against a family relation, lost, and then was sent by Emperor Caligula into exile in Gaul, France.  Where and how he died in exile is not known, only the date, AD 39. 

              He was only selected as a petty ruler because his father killed his other sons, the brothers of Antipas, who were likely to be the next king.  Tetrarch means ruler of a quarter.  Even his title is diminished.  Thus, Herod the Tetrarch, Antipas, was a weak man.

              His father, Herod the Great, was a strong man. Cruel and terrible, yes, but strong.  No one would consider Herod the Great in terms of weakness.  Despite being the ruler of a small kingdom, Herod the Great did remarkable things.  He built the winter palace of Masada, constructed a seaport, Caesarea, were there was not a natural harbor.  He constructed another palace, Herodium, by first building a mountain.  But, most importantly, he rebuilt the second temple of Jerusalem, a grand achievement over 500 years in the making.

              Herod the Great was cruel, killing the innocents of Judea after the birth of Jesus.  Heavily taxed his people, murdered his own children.  But he ruled one of the most complex and tenuous places in the known world for 33 years.  He was, by all accounts, ruthless, powerful, and strong.

              He gave away his power to weak sons, the weakest being Antipas, Herod the Tetrarch.  Antipas, though weak, was powerful. He could put people to death.  He was appointed by Rome.  Even though he lost, he waged war.  He was weak and powerful.

              The difference between strength and power may be the reason why this story is told by Luke.  It’s not much of a story really.  Herod the Tetrarch, Antipas, hears about Jesus and the rumors of what he might be: John raised from the dead, Elijah appearing, a prophet from of old.  He hears these rumors and wonders who Jesus might be.  Luke says, he wanted to see him.  But that’s it.  End of story.  He was not successful; he didn’t fulfil his desire.  He didn't find Jesus.  This too is yet another picture of weakness.  He could not summon the resolve to track down a man surrounded by a crowd.  He had the power to do this; yet being weak, lacking the strength, he failed.

              Power and strength are a curious distinction.  Power can be passed, given, handed over; strength cannot be given, only earned, gained, acquired.  In our house we call the remote control for the television “the power.”  We ask, “do you have the power;” or “do you know where the power is?”  The power, once found, can be passed to one who wants to watch a show.  We would never call the remote control “the strength.” We might ask, “do you have the strength to get up and go to bed?”  Power and strength have similarities, but they are different.  The power can be found beneath a couch cushion, under a chair, in a drawer.  Strength cannot be found in any of those places.

              We talk about a transfer of power, power station, power cord, or something being powered, electric powered, gas powered because it comes to us.  Strength is not transferred, nor does it come from an outside source.  Strength is in us.  Strength comes from things like exercise, discipline, courage.  We may not know how much strength we have, saying things like, I didn’t know my own strength, or I was surprised by how weak I was.  We may not know our strength. 

              Six years ago, not long after I first arrived, Nancy Leardi asked me to speak to a group of moms about parenting.  I laughed at this and suggested my advice about parenting is more about what not to do.  Having raised five children, or supporting my wife in raising five children, I know how few answers I have, let alone advice. Yet, I did have one observation to share, the difference between power and strength.

              Power is something you should give to children.  Empower them.  We do this in the form of opportunities.  We take them places; we sign them up for lessons and sports; we expose them to art and cuisine and culture.  Each is a moment where we empower them.

              My daughter Laura described this when she spoke of her college semester in France.  Part of the semester was spending two weeks in Paris.  Each day in Paris the professor asked the students if anyone had gone to the place where they were going.  Each day Laura raised her hand.  After a week the professor called her out and said, if you had only spent a week in Paris there was no way you could have seen everything you claim to have seen.  To which Laura said, "you've obviously never been on a Garry death march."  Power.

              Just last May I watched this empowerment happen with the next generation.  Our eldest grandson came of age.  In our family there is no bar mitzvah, no quinsenerra.  When you reach the age of twelve or so, you are offered a raw oyster on the half-shell.  Young Dmitri downed the oyster and said the magic words, "can I have another?"  Power.

              When I look back at the upbringing of our children, the most important opportunity we gave them, the greatest source of power, I believe, was a definition of the church.  As children and teens they went on missions.  Built houses in Mexico, helped restore New Orleans after Katrina, lived in Africa, painted houses down the block, served community dinners.

              This was the most powerful because it was a fulfilment of baptism.  In baptism we empower children by calling them God's beloved, naming them as God's child.  We give them power in this.  In acts of service, living a life of compassion, they saw what it meant to treat others as beloved, to give love away to strangers.  To me this is the reason to raise your child in a church, to drag them to Sunday School and wait for them in the parking lot for youth group to finish.  Despite many failures as a parent this part was done well, lived well.

              Yet, it is only half the battle, half the race.

              The other half, strength, that is tricky.

              Recently I heard a parent describe the difference between power and strength in a very profound way.  The description was born of frustration.  They were frustrated by the "snowplow parent."  The tiger mom led to the helicopter parent which has now yielded the snowplow parent.  A snowplow parent is someone who removes all obstacles, so children are safe and free from worry and anxiety.  A young person can move forward in life without any barriers.  The frustrated parent said this: instead of removing all obstacles for your child, you need to raise a child who can overcome obstacles.

              There is wisdom in this.  We big people have the power to remove a lot of what will be a challenge for children.  We can pay; we can aid; we can create opportunities; we could even prevent hardship or advocate for better outcomes.  We can do this like a snowplow clears a path, so people are free to move about.  We can.  And who wants a child to suffer?  But in removing the obstacles are we also removing the strength that comes from overcoming adversity?

              This is true also in our theology.  We believe Jesus saves us; we believe Jesus redeems us with his blood.  We are justified by faith in him.  He is our atonement, our atoning sacrifice.  Jesus picks up the tab so to speak for the sins of the world.  This is a pure image of power.  Nothing wrong with it.  This is a good power to have.  Jesus has the power to redeem the world.  This is our theology. 

              Yet so often what I find is this: God becomes a theological snowplow. Got a problem, give it to God.  Hard times comes, God must have a reason.  Failure after failure and the answer is to have more faith in Jesus.  He removes all the obstacles, makes the way clear for us.  All we need do is believe, trust, be thankful just in the same way a child is thankful to a generous parent. The path will be made clear to heaven.

              Maybe you can see the problem.  All this power cannot create strength.  Jesus can give us power, but he cannot give strength.  We must find strength, gain it, earn it.  Trust in Jesus can be a powerful faith, but a weak life said Nietzsche.  Power can be passed to us; strength cannot.

              On this Baptism Sunday, where we are called to remember ours, it is good to hear the call of God the Father, "this is my son, my beloved, in whom I am well pleased."  This is good because we need power.  The greatest power is love, to be seen as a delight, to be heard as an enchantment, to be taken as a joy of others, of God, even our own self: this is power.  We need the power of love.  The voice from the sky should fall on all our ears today.

              Power though is perhaps not what we need most. What we need most is strength.

              On our bulletin cover are sculpted heads found in the Metropolitan Museum.  Two are emperors, one is a teacher.  When I took the confirmands to the Met, I explained to them that there are more heads than bodies.  The reason for this is when a governor or an emperor or teacher died, they would remove the head from the statue and put on a new one, new image.  Saved a lot of work.  Saved money too I imagine.  But the image beneath the savings is this: power passes from one head to another.  Power passed from Herod the Great to Herod the Tetrarch.  What didn't pass was strength.

              By our circumstance, our relationships, by our opportunities, our theology, we have the power to live a remarkable life, to build a vibrant church, to do amazing things.  The question is: do we have the strength?  Can we remove the obstacles of our own fear and cynicism?  Do we possess the courage to live beyond pettiness and strife?  Can we rise above our failures?  Are we strong enough to live what is good and true and beautiful? Or are we weak?

              If you are here today, I have all confidence you trust in God, believe in Jesus; you have the power of being a beloved of God.  Where things get murky is this: do you have the strength to trust yourself, to give away the joy, the kindness you've received?  We believe, you only keep what you give away; do we have the strength to live such a life?  It takes courage to give a true answer.  Let us gain the strength to live what we believe.  Amen.