1 Cor. 4:9-16; Matthew 17:14-23;1 Samuel (1 Kingdoms)16:1-13; Micah 5:2-4
“Straighter when we bend and taller when we bow:” this was G. K. Chesterton’s understanding of the mystery of the gospel. Though he was not “Orthodox” (with a big O), he surely cared passionately about doctrinal orthodoxy and authentic Christian practice. And his paradoxical saying sums up God’s way of working in the world—the ‘foolishness” of God is surely stronger than human wisdom!
This is the dynamic that we see in our readings for this tenth Sunday after Pentecost. St. Paul speaks to the Corinthians about the humility of the apostles, a humility that has made him fit to be their spiritual “father”, whom they should imitate. The gospel reading insists that power over the strongest of demons comes only through the simplicity of faith, and the humility of intercessory prayer and fasting. To an egalitarian world that eschews the idea of “paternalism,” that thinks it demeaning to look to others as “fathers,” the Christian tradition (beginning with the NT) declares that a true father exemplifies utter humility, and is not afraid to show his fragility to others. Indeed, the love of the Father is made manifest in the outpoured life of his Son upon the cross!
The Old Testament, though replete with leaders of great prowess and wisdom, also hints at this mystery. Consider both David and Bethlehem, the city of David:
The LORD said to Samuel, “… Fill your horn with oil, and go; I will send you to Jesse the Bethlehemite, for I have provided for myself a king among his sons.”… Samuel did what the LORD commanded, and came to Bethlehem. The elders of the city came to meet him trembling, and said, “Do you come peaceably?” And he said, “Peaceably; I have come to sacrifice to the LORD; consecrate yourselves, and come with me to the sacrifice.” And he consecrated Jesse and his sons, and invited them to the sacrifice. When they came, he looked on Eliab and thought, “Surely the LORD’S anointed is before him.” But the LORD said to Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the LORD sees not as man sees; man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.” Then Jesse called Abinadab, and made him pass before Samuel. And he said, “Neither has the LORD chosen this one.” Then Jesse made Shammah pass by. And he said, “Neither has the LORD chosen this one.” And Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel. And Samuel said to Jesse, “The LORD has not chosen these.” And Samuel said to Jesse, “Are all your sons here?” And he said, “There remains yet the youngest, but behold, he is keeping the sheep.” And Samuel said to Jesse, “Send and fetch him; for we will not sit down till he comes here.” And he sent, and brought him in. Now he was ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome. And the LORD said, “Arise, anoint him; for this is he.” (1Sa 16:1-13 RSV)
But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are little among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days. Therefore he shall give them up until the time when she who is in travail has brought forth; then the rest of his brethren shall return to the people of Israel. And he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the LORD, in the majesty of the name of the LORD his God. (Mic 5:2-4 RSV)
David’s city, Bethlehem, small among the clans, is the birthplace of the Messiah, the one who “feeds his flock in the strength of the Lord.” David is recognized by Samuel not for his prowess or strength, for God does not look at appearance or height—it is his heart that makes him great in God’s eyes. And David, we know, trusted in the Lord when he rescued the flock from the bear, or his people from the giant Goliath!
So it is that this surprising element is central to the Great Story, the overall narrative of the Bible. God the Son stoops low to serve, washing his disciples’ feet, binding up our wounds, engaging in close conversation with the outcast, with women, with the lowly. He is accused of cavorting with sinners because of this deep humility: even his disciples wonder that he engages in deep communion with the woman who will become St. Photini!
So it is that after the great glory of the Tranfiguration, when Jesus had a heart-to-heart with the great prophet and the law-giver, and was seen in heavenly splendor, that he comes down from the mountain and encounters a pitiable sight:
And when they came to the crowd, a man came up to him and kneeling before him said, “Lord, have mercy on my son, for he is an epileptic and he suffers terribly; for often he falls into the fire, and often into the water. And I brought him to your disciples, and they could not heal him.” And Jesus answered, “O faithless and perverse generation, how long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you? Bring him here to me.” And Jesus rebuked him, and the demon came out of him, and the boy was cured instantly.
Then the disciples came to Jesus privately and said, “Why could we not cast it out?” He said to them, “Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, `Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible to you. But this kind never comes out except by prayer and fasting.”
As they were gathering in Galilee, Jesus said to them, “The Son of man is to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him, and he will be raised on the third day.” And they were greatly distressed. (Mat.17:14-23)
The disciples, we hear, had had no success in casting out this strong demon. But Jesus, of course, did. And when his disciples quizzed him on their inability, he spoke of FAITH—reliance upon God, who can do all things. Some have thought that the following sentence (Matt 17:21) does not fit into this passage: it is not found in the earliest manuscripts, after all. If FAITH is all that is required to move mountains, then surely actions like prayer and fasting are superfluous in the casting out of demons. It appears to some Biblical scholars that the scribe whom they believe added verse 21 didn’t quite get Jesus’ point about bare-naked faith, and added a “but”—BUT in the case of demon-possession like this, you need to go through certain rituals. It may be that verse 21 was not in our earliest texts of Matthew here. However, Jesus gives this explanation in the parallel passage of Mark 9, so it is certainly an authentic word of the Lord. Matthew highlights faith, and Mark actually cashes out what faith looks like when we are faced with a difficult task—it expresses itself in PRAYER and in FASTING. The two explanations of Jesus are not CONFLICING ones, but wholly in harmony with each other. To have faith is to rely upon the strength of God: this reliance takes the shape of prayer—intercession, petition, recognition of God’s strength. It also is expressed in fasting, for in fasting we come to see our utter dependence upon the God who has given us all good things. We admit our vulnerability before him, and allow him to strengthen us.
St. Paul knew about the remarkable strength that is made perfect in weakness. He bares his soul to the Corinthian congregation, which was embroiled in struggles of pride and one-up-manship, and which was being tempted to abandon St. Paul, their first spiritual father, for more flashy spiritual leaders. Towards the beginning of his letter, he reminds them of the way that his apostolic calling has led him into difficult experiences:
For I think that God has exhibited us apostles as last of all, like men sentenced to death; because we have become a spectacle to the world, to angels and to men. We are fools for Christ’s sake, but you are wise in Christ. We are weak, but you are strong. You are held in honor, but we in disrepute. To the present hour we hunger and thirst, we are ill-clad and buffeted and homeless, and we labor, working with our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we try to conciliate; we have become, and are now, as the refuse of the world, the offscouring of all things. I do not write this to make you ashamed, but to admonish you as my beloved children. For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel. I urge you, then, be imitators of me. (1Cor. 4:9-16)
If one were just to take the last three sentences, then one might think that St. Paul was proud: “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel. I urge you, then, be imitators of me.” Really, Paul, we might remark—you need us to acknowledge you as a father, better than all our other guides? Really, Paul, you call on us to imitate YOU—do you think you are Jesus? Certainly this is the way that some Protestants have read this passage, thinking that the apostle is here so upset that he has become petty, and needy, craving human approval. Certainly, we can detect that St. Paul has been hurt by the Corinthians’ disregard—but, in fact, his vulnerability here shows us his deep humility. He reminds them of what he has suffered for Christ—and calls them to do the same thing! He wants his spiritual children to be like him, to bow and so to become taller.
Like his Lord, the apostle Paul was prepared to suffer for the flock. Jesus’ disciples were “greatly distressed” when he told them about his ordeal of the crucifixion to come. Jesus insists that they must learn, too, to take up their cross. St. Paul’s congregation was predisposed to hear the boastful words of leaders who claimed to have performed miracles and to have seen angels worshipping—the apostle reminds them of the depth of his love for them and of the shame that he has borne in declaring the gospel. They must, like him, learn to only “boast in the Lord” and not in human strength. At the center of our faith, then, stands a cross. The One who bowed his head shows us that the way to rising is to descend. This is imprinted in the stories of the Old Testament as well as the glory of the New. Adam and Eve sinned in trying to use the apple to become “as God.” David was chosen, despite being the youngest, and over his older, more imposing brothers. Our Lord, Isaiah tells us, “had no comeliness that we should desire him.”
We become straighter when we bend, taller when we bow: that is the way that God works. As the righteous Symeon put it, “this child is set for the falling and rising of many”—FIRST the falling, then the rising. First death, and then life. In the words of St. John the Baptist, whose memory we celebrate this coming Monday, “he must increase, and I must decrease.” Let us bow our heads before the Lord. Only so do we grow in his grace!
Edith M. Humphrey 