The Church has no power. . .

There have been numerous times when the power goes out in our neck of the woods.  It does not always happen when storms come but when somebody hits a nearby pole in a car accident or when the demand skyrockets and the system is overloaded.  It can be quite humorous.  The pipe organ does not simply go silent (the way an electronic instrument does).  Instead, it sighs long and loud until the last gasp of noise signals the end to the air pressure.  Inevitably it happens at an awkward time -- especially if you are the organist on the bench.  But even though the Church has no electricity, we still have power.

The fact of the matter is that singing is often better when we cannot depend upon a strong accompaniment. Perhaps it is because we feel our voices are need or the instrument simply is louder than we are.  But I love when the people rally to the cause and keep on singing.  Although we have a grand piano only steps from the organ console and always have a back up, I rather enjoy it when it is just the people singing.

It has happened when storm (especially ice storms) cut off power to more than a neighborhood and folks will call and ask me the awkward question,"Pastor, does the Church have power?"  I know what they mean but I often want to answer the other question hidden in those same words.  Of course, the Church has power.  We have the keys of the kingdom, the peculiar power to forgive sins, the power to bind the sins of the impenitent, and a host of other powers.  Sure, the world may not be impressed with these powers but that does not mean they are not real and, well, powerful.

I love in the movies where people sit at table when the monarch sits and stand when the sovereign stands, eat while the one who sits upon the royal throne eats, and stops when the king or queen stops.  It is power.  Not much, think some folks.  But people are noticing and even if they don't want to, their meal is tied to when the royal sits and eats and when the royal stops and stands.  Not much in the face of a world with red buttons to press that might unleash great destruction but a great power nonetheless.  In fact, for the Christian this is the power of powers, the greatest of powers!  The Church speaks into death's deep, dark hole the Word of Life.  It is powerful.  To stand at the grave in the cemetery and to announce to the world that they have not seen the last of the one who has died.  Well, that is power.

In reality, Christians treat this peculiar power as if it were nothing much at all.  We stay away from worship with impunity and we go to God's House with nary a thought about what would be appropriate for us to wear or the posture that should reflect our faith or the penitence that should mark our hearts.  Strange how even Christians practice a piety that would suggest there is nothing real about the faith, no real power, but it is all symbolic or picture language.  That is not what Jesus says.  Heaven and earth may pass away but not the Word of the Lord that endures forever.  Fear not those who can destroy the body but you better pay attention to the One who can destroy the soul.  

The world may not recognize the power of the Word as much but we know different.  It is the greatest power of all.  For it reached into a world of despair and implanted itself in the womb of the Virgin, cried out in birth, lived with a holy and clear conscience, entered death without fear, and rose to show the world a power stronger than death.  Nope, we know different.  The world may not get it or get us but we get it.  Christ, the first fruits of them that sleep, is the first-born of the dead and He addresses us with the power of life death, disease, darkness, and the power of the devil cannot overcome.

Why don't we act like this IS a real power --- a profound power?  I wish I knew.  Instead we rely too much on feelings (which are not bad but never have the strength upon which to build our lives.  That, my friends, is the greater power -- the power of life.  And some say the Church has no power.  Indeed!