For the Powerless
April 6, 2025 • Mount Pleasant UMC
It was such a great idea. We were at Stone Mountain, outside Atlanta, where the centerpiece of the park is the big mountain. And my great idea was that we would hike to the top of the mountain and then take the cable car down. You can probably see the flaw in that thinking already, but in the moment I didn’t. I thought the exercise would be great, so come on kids, let’s hike! And so we started out, moving at a pretty good pace, and the kids were running ahead because they had unending energy. Even me, the heart patient, was doing well until about two-thirds of the way up we turned a corner and suddenly the gentle slope changed to what seemed like a straight-up climb. At least that’s the way it is in my memory. But I’m stubborn and I had come this far so I charged ahead. Until I couldn’t anymore. One of the clearest memories I have of that day is laying on the ground, breathing heavily, powerless. And of course Christopher comes running down the mountain (he’d already made it to the top), saying, “Hey, what’s wrong with Dad?” When he was assured I was okay, he ran back up to the top, while I still lay there powerless.
It’s a terrible feeling to run completely out of energy, out of power. It’s a helpless feeling, to know you have to stop or get someone else’s help to be able to complete what you’ve been doing. Being powerless is not something anyone enjoys. And yet, Paul says, in the shadow of the cross, that is exactly what each and every one of us are. Thankfully, though, the cross is for the powerless.
This Lent, we have been walking through different images of “The Old Rugged Cross,” exploring as much as we can everything that these two pieces of wood and the man nailed to them means. We’ve talked a lot about how the crucifixion of Jesus, on a hillside outside of Jerusalem sometime around the year 30 AD, was the worst injustice in human history. An innocent man, one who never did anything wrong and taught the best way to live, was beaten within an inch of his life, made to carry a hundred-pound beam through the city and to the place of execution, and then nailed to the cross where he hung for six hours. It’s a horrific scene, as I’ve said several times in the last few weeks. But according to the earliest of the Christian authors, “Golgotha is not just the scene of the greatest crime, it is also the site of a love supreme” (Zahnd, The Wood Between the Worlds, pg. 56).
Paul’s letter to the Romans is considered a masterpiece of Christian theology, though no one knows exactly why he wrote it. Many believe it was a letter of introduction of sorts, letting the Roman church know who he was and what he preached before he actually arrived in Rome. Paul did not start the church, nor had he ever been there prior to writing this letter, but he planned to visit them. And so what we have in this letter is a well-reasoned and clear expression of Paul’s beliefs, all of which centers in on the cross. So far in the letter, he has been describing the human condition, how we are lost when left to our own designs, and how God has been working since the beginning of time to bring us back to himself. In chapter 5, he comes the heart of the matter, and he uses four words here to give shape to what God does and has done through the cross—four words to highlight or write down because they are critical to understanding this aspect of the cross (cf. McKnight, Romans, pgs. 112-113).
The first word is powerless. “At just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died…” (5:6). When Jesus went to the cross, we were powerless. Well, of course we were. We weren’t even born yet! That’s not Paul’s point. He’s talking in general human terms here. That word translated as “powerless” is a, well, powerful word. It doesn’t just mean feeling kind of week or puny. It means we are impotent, strengthless, feeble, weak. It means you’re laying on the ground at the top of Stone Mountain. Powerless. It’s like when I woke up in the middle of the night the other night and my arm had gone numb. I couldn’t move it at all. What a weird feeling! I had to roll over and allow blood to flow back into it because without that life-giving liquid, my arm was powerless. That’s the first image Paul has of us. And there’s more.
The second word is ungodly. Christ didn’t just die. “Christ died for the ungodly” (5:6). Okay, being called powerless might be one thing, but who wants to be called ungodly? The word there was used in Roman culture to describe people whose religious practices were “socially disrespectful.” So, say, if you didn’t attend public worship or go to religious events, you would have been called “ungodly.” And it’s all tied together. If you didn’t care about Roman religion, you were powerless in the larger world because the religion was laced all through the culture’s structure. In Paul’s world, the ungodly are those who have no time for God, and no place for him in their lives. They are not necessarily atheist; they may actually believe in God or the gods but they have scooted him or them out of everyday life. But wait, we’re not done yet.
The third word is sinner. “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (5:8). I think sometimes we think the second and third words are the same, but while an ungodly person ignores God, a sinner might actually be trying to serve God but missing the mark. That’s what the word means; “sin” is missing the mark. It’s an archery term; it refers to shooting an arrow and missing the target. In the Jewish tradition, sin was failing to fulfill the law of God, and in the Christian tradition it would refer to wandering off the path of following Jesus. A sinner here is contrasted with two other types of people: “righteous” and “good.” Here’s how Paul sets up the contrast: “Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die” (5:7). Now, that’s an odd way to set up a contrast, but in Paul’s world a “righteous” person refers to a morally upright person, someone who would be considered a spiritual leader at least outwardly. But a “good” person is someone we have a close relationship with, and that relationship might be a financial one like between a benefactor and a recipient. A “good” person would always rank higher in a person’s life than a “righteous” person, but even for that person someone wouldn’t immediately think they would die for them (cf. Osborne, Romans [IVPNTC], pg. 133). They absolutely wouldn’t die for someone in their life who misses the mark. No one, Paul says, would die for a sinner. And we’re still not done.
There one more word yet: enemy. “We were God’s enemies” (5:10). Now that’s a serious word, one the world really seems to understand these days. These are the ones who are hostile toward God and God’s ways. They rebel against God, they fight against God and they publicly deny that God has anything to do with their life. These are the people like famous atheist Richard Dawkins who once stated that belief in God was irrational and actually harmful to society. In his famous book The God Delusion, he blamed people who believe in God for most of the wars, conflicts and problems in the world. And yet, what’s so interesting is that near the end of his life, Dawkins began calling himself a “cultural Christian,” stating that he preferred Christianity to other religious systems. But many who followed his earlier writing themselves became active enemies of God, and while it’s easy to point out those who are publicly against God, there have been and maybe still are times in all of our lives when we refuse to follow God’s will for us. Paul says we have been God’s enemies.
Powerless. Ungodly. Sinners. Enemies. Four words that describe the human condition. It sounds pretty dire. It sounds like there isn’t much hope for a solution. But woven through this passage is just such a solution. In fact, in the verse right before the passage we read, we begin to hear about it. Paul says, “God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit” (5:5). God’s agape love, that no-strings-attached way beyond affection love that God has for us, has been poured out, not just trickled or sprinkled out, poured out into our hearts. The image is of a pitcher being filled to overflowing, because the pitcher can’t hold everything that’s being poured out—and that’s exactly what Paul wants us to see. God’s love has been poured out because of the death of Jesus on the cross. It’s everything we needed and nothing we expected. The cross is the unexpected, supreme example of love unmerited, freely given and waiting to be received.
Think for a moment about what Jesus taught, because we can’t separate what he taught from the way he lived (cf. Zahnd 57). “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you that you may be children of your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:43-45). That, Jesus says, is the definition of perfection (cf. Matthew 5:48), of being perfect like God is perfect. Love your enemies. Love the powerless. Love the sinners and the ungodly. He goes further in the same sermon: “Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged” (Matthew 7:1-2). Do not judge the powerless, the ungodly, the sinners and the enemies. Love them, Jesus says. And when asked what the greatest commandment is, Jesus tells them it is actually two-fold: “'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments” (Matthew 22:37-39). And on the night before he was crucified, he told his disciples this: “The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them…but you are not to be like that. Instead, the greatest among you should be like the youngest, and the one who rules like the one who serves” (Luke 22:25-26). Over and over again, Jesus teaches the disciples that those who follow him will be those who love and those who love will serve others. The only way people will know that we believe in Jesus is if we love others through our words and through our actions.
And perhaps most telling of all is this teaching of Jesus which he shared with his disciples on the long walk from the final meal to the place of prayer and betrayal. In those final moments, this is what was uppermost in his heart and mind: “My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command” (John 15:12-14). And what did he command? He just said it, so there was no reason for the disciples to miss it. “Love each other as I have loved you.” And he would demonstrate what that kind of love looked like the very next day as he carried a crossbeam out of the city and willingly gave his life. The cross is many things but it is at the very least an act of love. Paul says it in the passage we read today: “God demonstrates his own love (agape) for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (5:8). What does love look like? It looks like a cross.
“Jesus goes to the cross with his eyes wide open and his heart full of love” (Zahnd 58). He knows what he’s doing and he’s not surprised at any moment along the way. He knows the pain and suffering ahead and still he takes each step up the hill because he loves everyone around him and even those who are yet to come—you and me. “When we look upon a cross today, we don’t see an instrument of torture and death; we see the supreme demonstration of God’s love. We see the lengths to which God will go to save the world” (Zahnd 59). The cross is for the powerless.
That is what is in forefront of his mind on this last night he spends with his disciples. On that walk to Gethsemane, he comes back to this theme over and over again, but he had first given them command in the Upper Room. There was a somber mood in the room, though under their breath the disciples were having an argument they had had frequently: which one of us is the greatest? (cf. Luke 22:24). It’s hard for me to imagine having that conversation when Jesus is around. I picture them whispering to each other, trying to keep it quiet, and not realizing that Jesus hears it all. I mean, they should know these things by now! So somewhere in the midst of that discussion, Jesus gets up from the table, doesn’t say a single word, wraps a towel around his waist and begins to wash the feet of every single disciple sitting at the table. I wonder if the first person he washes notices or is he still arguing about being the greatest? Apparently, they are confused or embarrassed or something because none of them say anything either until Jesus comes to Peter. “Lord,” he says, “are you going to wash my feet?” It’s not really a question of “are you” but more a question of “why are you” because washing feet was the work of a servant. Here are guys arguing about who is the greatest and the one who really is the greatest is down on his knees, doing the work of a slave. “Are you going to wash my feet?” And Jesus just says to Peter, “Later you will understand” (John 13:1-7).
After he has returned to the table, Jesus explains what has just happened to them. Whether they realize it or not, they have experienced God’s love. What he has done to them was an act of love and it was an example for them to follow. “A new command I give you,” he says. “Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” And how did he love them? By serving them. By being willing to get down on one knee and do what no one else would do. Love is seen in the way we treat each other—with kindness, with respect for all, with the kind of no-strings-attached unflinching care that Jesus showed his friends. And though they are not aware of it yet, the supreme way he will demonstrate his love for them and for the world is by giving his life on the cross the very next day. The cross is the supreme example of his command on this night: “Love one another.”
And then he goes further. He says, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (13:34-35). When we talk about accomplishing our mission of making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world, this statement of Jesus is key. How are others going to be drawn to Jesus? When they see us, his followers, loving each other and loving the world. The world will be transformed by the love that was most demonstrated by the cross.
After he taught them about the priority of love, he then used the meal before them to give them a gift, a practice that would remind them of his love. He took the bread, broke it and passed it to them. “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19). After the supper was over, he took one of the cups of wine on the table, probably the third cup that represented redemption and thanksgiving, and he offered it to them all. “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you” (Luke 22:20). Paul, reflecting on the meaning of this practice, reminded the Corinthian church that “whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Corinthians 11:26). Or, we could say it this way: you proclaim the Lord’s love until he comes…to the powerless, the ungodly, the sinners and the enemies…all gathered at the foot of the cross, showered by the love of God.
Communion is one of my favorite things to do as a pastor, mainly because sharing the love of Jesus is why I answered the call to be a pastor in the first place and this is an incredible, tangible way for you to experience and receive the love of Jesus. So I’m excited to share that experience this morning with our Bible Explorer class. For the last few months they have been learning about the Scriptures and about Jesus and then two weeks ago we presented them with their third grade Bibles. Now, today, they get to put some of what they have been learning into action and share the love of Jesus demonstrated on the cross to you. So now we’re going to pray and prepare our hearts for the celebration of the love of Jesus through Holy Communion. Let’s pray.
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