The Power of No
I got a small package in the mail at the church last week. It was cleverly wrapped, with a mailing label that looked personally addressed instead of mass-marketed. You know the type. I made my way through the non-recyclable bubble wrap mailer and found a disposable pen that I had not ordered. The pen had our church name and address on it, and it came with a letter, promising that if I placed a minimum order for 1,000 pens, I think it was, then our church would grow, guaranteed. Who knew that all we need is plastic swag to get new members? These kinds of church offers come almost every day, and most of them have some version of a promise that we will become a more influential church. They range from exciting mission trips in exotic destinations to slick social media campaigns, all guaranteed to grow our community. I recall a mailer one time about an adult education program on discipleship and church growth. I don’t remember the details, but I do recall the action photos of pastors using this program with extremely skinny jeans and very earnest expressions on their faces. The implication was that my own success as a pastor could be measured by comparison. My jeans will never be skinny enough, I’m afraid. Call me cynical, but the Christ Church pen idea was no different than all the others. I tossed the excessive packaging in the trash. I will use the pen until it, too, heads for the landfill, but I decided not to order them in bulk.
My irritation about such sales pitches is not toward the people who send them, not really. I am sure there are good and faithful people who really want to spread the kingdom of God. My irritation is with the church, and with the temptation we seem to fall into over and over again. The church is not immune to seeking glory, or fame, or power, often measured in growth statistics and levels of busyness. Let’s face it, we live in a culture where “influencer” is now an actual noun and even a career path, my kids tell me, and the church wants to keep up, to stay relevant. We want to be the hip church in town. We want to do cool stuff. We can get stars in our eyes, and we can get very busy with more and more great programs. And if we’re not careful, we can seek our own glory instead of the glory of God.
All of which is to say that today’s Gospel ought to stop us in our tracks. There’s a strong message here for us, as individual Christians, and as the church. The story of Jesus in the wilderness has endured for millennia because the problem of our temptations has endured for just as long. In a culture of too many yeses - to products and programs and quick fixes, it is Jesus’ decisively clear “no” that we need to hear. If we are willing to hear it, today’s message is clear - we should ask ourselves with some regularity what we need to say “no” to, in the name of our faith (Will Willimon).
The Satan figure in Matthew’s gospel is far more clever than we usually give him credit for. The options he offers to Jesus might seem obvious to reject - turning stones into bread, jumping off the temple roof to be caught by angels, and agreeing to bow down to Satan in exchange for worldly power. But these temptations are real because they are more ambiguous than simple. For example, Imagine how many hungry people Jesus could feed if he turned all those desert stones into food. Imagine how many people could be brought to faith if they could see him saved from a disastrous fall. And imagine how much good Jesus could accomplish if he ruled the kingdoms of the world, having only to pay the small price of worshipping Satan. As an interesting side note, the scriptures casually mention that Satan is in charge of all governments and politics, that all of the kingdoms are his to do with what he pleases. In an election season, wouldn’t that make an interesting debate question? But for today, let’s focus on Jesus’s resounding “no”. No to pride, no to power, no to possessions. It’s a clear and powerful no.
The church has not always been successful in resisting these temptations. It has a tendency to attempt the miraculous - selling glory without sacrifice, resurrection without crucifixion, and cheap grace. It also has a tendency toward spectacle. How may churches or pastors want celebrity? And finally, there is the perennial temptation to power - to dominating people and winning them over. The intentions might be good, like growing a church, but the will to such power over is not. Jesus’ way is grounded in sacrificial love and forgiveness, if anything an emptiness of power instead of power over people (John Douglass Hall).
And haven’t we all been subject to weakness in the face of these same temptations? We want the easy road to wealth, security, safety. We want power, and we want influence. It is hard to say no when cheap and convenient offers come along. We aren’t as keen on taking up our own crosses. But following Jesus is the road in the wilderness set apart from whatever glittering objects the culture wants to sell us. If today’s gospel reminds us of anything, it is that we have to be very discerning in the face of temptations.
Sometimes the word “no” is the most powerful word we have as followers of Jesus. That’s a bit countercultural to say, in the midst of church mailers about adding programs and gimmicks to grow the church. But our no is powerful. Episcopalians are perhaps not as well known as other denominations for what we stand against, things like dancing or instrumental music or who can get married or ordained. But we have some very important no’s to say - at our best we say no to idolatry, to hardness of heart, and to a lack of concern for the least and the lost. At times we lose our way in such matters, and today’s gospel calls us back. At times the church loses its way, only to be called back by the power of no. When the state churches in Germany signed over their support of Hitler’s regime, theologian Karl Barth famously pounded his fist on the table and said no, which inspired a group of pastors to write a joint declaration rejecting the cooptation of the church by an evil and earthly power. In the wilderness of temptation, there are times, thank God, when the church gets it right.
Church life is often about our yeses - how we can help one another, what programs we can offer, what letters we can write to the city about issues of the common good. If we are not careful, however, we can lose our way in the temptations, and start to get stars in our eyes about our own glory. So as we begin our Lenten journey, I invite you to consider the power of the word “no” for Christian discipleship. Because of your faith, what do you need to say no to? What temptations sneak into your life, under the cover of something good or promising, but then lead you astray? As we start our visioning process at Christ Church, what do we need to say no to along side our yeses? We know that pride, power, and possession can all try to take the place of God in our lives and even in our church. But scripture reminds us that they are nothing compared to the sacrificial love and grace of Christ. We have the power to say no to anything less.