Tag Archives: Messiah

About that incessant competition for dominance… (August 30, AD 2026, Proper 17)

Readings (Track 1)

It would be hard to find a sharper contrast than that in today’s readings from Exodus and Matthew. Exodus: like last week’s reading, the Egyptian oppression of the Israelites is front and center, and God is going to do something about it. “I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians…So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” On the other hand, Mattthew. Last Sunday we heard Peter’s confession: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (16:16.) That sounds promising—maybe Jesus will do to the Romans what Moses did to the Egyptians. But no, “Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.”

We often hear that the Old Testament is concerned about material things, the New Testament about spiritual things. If that were true it might explain the contrast, but recall how the Romans reading ends: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” Overcoming evil—in all its forms—is still the challenge; but how?

Moses did bring Israel out of Egypt, but Egypt—speaking metaphorically—was still in Israel. Ironically, it’s King Solomon, renown for his wisdom, who puts the Israelites to forced labor to build his temple (1 Kgs 5:13ff). When at Solomon’s death the people ask for relief, Solomon’s son Rehoboam responds “My father made your yoke heavy, but I will add to your yoke; my father disciplined you with whips, but I will discipline you with scorpions” (1Ki 12:14). Israel out of Egypt—relatively easy; Egypt out of Israel—not so easy.

Jesus doesn’t explain why he, the Messiah, “must” go to Jerusalem, but we get a partial explanation later in response to the request that James and John get the choice seats.

“You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (20:25-28).

Pulling back the camera, it’s no good focusing on the Egyptian pharaoh or the Roman emperor. The problem’s deeper, this unending competition for dominance. Jesus going to Jerusalem can’t be another version of that. And Jesus’ followers have hardly begun to learn that that’s not what he’s about.

So, in today’s Gospel: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” If we asked Matthew what that looked like in practice, he’d probably sigh and tell us to read the rest of his Gospel. That wouldn’t be bad advice.

Happily, our second reading is the second half of Romans 12. Some weeks back we heard Paul ask the Romans “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?” (6:3). Baptism: an enactment of Jesus’ “take up their cross.” And he begins our current chapter with “I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice” (12:1). So, while I don’t think Paul’s writing with the Matthew scroll before him (the timing’s wrong), Jesus’ words are being passed down orally, and this chapter is a useful exploration of what “those who lose their life for my sake will find it” might look like in Rome. So Paul—still in last week’s reading—goes immediately to “I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think” (12:3). Enough with this unending competition for dominance.

It would be tedious to go through the reading verse by verse. It’s a reading to take home and tape to the bathroom mirror. One verse might show itself relevant on Tuesday, another on Friday. But let’s notice a couple of things before wrapping up.

“Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.” Probably useful to remember when watching the news or scrolling on the smartphone. I’m struck by Ellen Davis’ definition of blessing: “Blessing is fundamentally an act of acknowledging the essential goodness of the other’s being; it is a commitment of one’s will to the flourishing of the other.”[1] Blessing isn’t about approving what the other is doing, but acknowledging that that “other” also bears God’s image, with all the potential for wonder and tragedy that involves.

“Outdo one another in showing honor.” I’d guess that competition is hardwired into our DNA. Paul’s wise enough not to try to squelch it. But he does think it can be redirected. In any parish we’re probably pretty good at honoring some, not so good at honoring others. Paul’s encouraging us to be proactive. As we heard last week, God’s given each of us gifts for the good of the body. That’s something to celebrate. More often. More comprehensively.

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” How? The second verse of “Lead on, O King eternal” (#555) nails it: “for not with sword’s loud clashing, nor roll of stirring drums, / but deeds of love and mercy, the heavenly kingdom comes.”

Or, as the old riddle goes, “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.”


[1] Opening Israel’s Scriptures, p.28.

How Jesus does “Don’t be conformed; be transformed” (August 23, AD 2026; Proper 16)

Readings (Track 1)

We could easily give all our attention to any one of these texts—but how do we hear them together?

Our first reading describes a situation of brutal oppression. There’s a new king who lies, stokes fear, demonizes a minority (the Israelites). It all sounds uncomfortably familiar. Over the centuries these early chapters of Exodus have helped many oppressed peoples recognize that the same God who cared about the Israelites cared about them.

The situation Jesus and Paul encounter is different, but oppressive in its own way. Empires survive/prosper by extracting resources from the periphery to the center; Rome was no different. Recall the listing in Revelation: “gold, silver, jewels and pearls, fine linen, purple, silk and scarlet, all kinds of scented wood, all articles of ivory, all articles of costly wood, bronze, iron, and marble, cinnamon, spice, incense, myrrh, frankincense, wine, olive oil, choice flour and wheat, cattle and sheep, horses and chariots, slaves” (18:12-13).

In today’s Gospel Peter confesses Jesus to be the Messiah. That sounds like good news: oppression is the sort of thing the Messiah is supposed to deal with, right?

Unfortunately, the Gospel reading stops just before Jesus explains what he understands being the Messiah to be about: “From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised” (16:21). To pick up Paul’s language from our second reading, being the Messiah is about presenting one’s body “as a living sacrifice.”

So the oppression doesn’t matter? It matters. But to get at the roots of the oppression it’s no good focusing on the Pharaoh or the Emperor. A bit later in Matthew’s Gospel we’ll hear Jesus say “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave” (20:25-27). It’s this unending competition for dominance that’s the root, a competition that expresses itself in oppression as soon as we have sufficient power. So here the Messiah must take the lead, take a different path.

Recall Paul in our second reading, who moves immediately from “Do not be conformed…but be transformed” to “I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think.” At this point he’s working the same issue Jesus was working.

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds.” Of course that’s multidimensional, but one of the dimensions—as shown by the following verses—is abandoning this unending competition for dominance. That, of course, is risky, which is why Paul started the paragraph with “present your bodies as a living sacrifice.” Not being conformed, being transformed: it doesn’t stay in the head, but embraces the whole body. “A living sacrifice”—including the many situations in which not competing for dominance will involve turning the other cheek (recall Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount).

In the context of today’s readings, the complementary dimension of “be transformed” is love of the enemy, which Paul addresses later in this chapter—and which we also encountered in the Sermon on the Mount. In situations of oppression or perceived oppression, hatred comes so easily, so naturally.

“You are the Messiah.” Being the Messiah: bearing witness to God’s reign, even when the consequences are predictably lethal. God’s reign: a reign in which we’re free to disengage from the unending competition for dominance, from the ensuing oppression, free to love our enemies. This freedom means more options. As Paul will put it at the end of this chapter, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (12:21).

We might summarize the conversation between our readings from Romans and Matthew like this: Paul can exhort “present your bodies as a living sacrifice…Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds” because that’s we’ve heard Jesus describe as his job description. In fact, it’s hard to think of a clearer example of “Do not be conformed…but be transformed” than what Jesus does with the popular expectations of what the Messiah will do. And, obviously, “Do not be conformed…but be transformed” doesn’t stay in Jesus’ head, but shapes his entire life. Conversely, Jesus’ words help us bring into focus the sort of reorientation of life that Paul’s encouraging.

As I said earlier, not being conformed, being transformed is multidimensional. The dimensions I’ve focused on, abandoning the competition for domination and love of enemy, come from wondering what this Messiah’s doing about oppression. To flesh this out, the testimony of one of the Messiah’s 20th century servants, Martin Luther King Jr:[1]

Nonviolent resistance “does not seek to defeat or humiliate the opponent, but to win his friendship and understanding.…The end is redemption and reconciliation. The aftermath of nonviolence is the creation of the beloved community, while the aftermath of violence is tragic bitterness.”

Again, nonviolent resistance “avoids not only external physical violence but also internal violence of spirit.…The nonviolent resister would contend that in the struggle for human dignity, the oppressed people of the world must not succumb to the temptation of becoming bitter or indulging in hate campaigns. To retaliate in kind would do nothing but intensify the existence of hate in the universe. Along the way of life, someone must have sense enough and morality enough to cut off the chain of hate. [] Parenthetically, that’s not a bad description of the Cross.This can only be done by projecting the ethic of love to the center of our lives.”

Now, having given Romans and Matthew the lion’s share of attention, where does that leave our first reading and psalm?

That standoff between God and Pharaoh that today’s first reading anticipates, isn’t it a competition for dominance? Of course. On the one hand, that’s one of the things God reserves for God’s self. On the other hand, even for God it’s more a stopgap measure than a long-term solution. “We had to destroy the village in order to save it” works no better for God than it does for us.

It’s also worth noticing that the behavior of the two midwives, Shiphrah and Puah, as well as the behavior of Moses’ mother and sister, are textbook examples of nonviolent resistance.

What of Psalm 124? If we’ve been listening to Jesus, we recognize that the fundamental danger (“swallowed us up alive…prey for their teeth”) is not our physical death, but that we become indistinguishable from our enemies. Then again, Jesus’ story plays out differently. He is swallowed up, becomes prey for their teeth—and Death (capital D) develops a fatal case of indigestion. As the psalmist rightly concludes “Our help is in the Name of the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.”

But back to Jesus, his servants Paul and Martin Luther King Jr., and the contemporary kings so skilled at oppression and stoking fear. We prayed in today’s collect, “Grant, O merciful God, that your Church, being gathered together in unity by your Holy Spirit, may show forth your power among all peoples, to the glory of your Name.” What might that “show forth your power” look like today?


[1] From “An Experiment in Love” (1958) in A Testament of Hope pp.18-19.