The Restraint of Power

Today’s Gospel reading from Matthew comes at the end of the earthly ministry of Jesus. It’s almost over, he’s in Gethsemane, and it’s become increasingly obvious: Jesus is not going to put up a fight.

There’s a skirmish when he’s arrested, but Jesus doesn’t approve of it, in fact, he heals the one who’s wounded and reprimands his friend Peter, “Put your sword away! That’s not how we do it!”

Apparently Jesus is not going to fight - but he could have! The Gospel writer has absolutely no doubt of that. The writer of the Gospel of Matthew records the words of Jesus, “don’t you know I could ask God right now for 12 legions of angels, and they would be here to fight for me.”

“He could have” says Matthew, but he doesn’t.

And then when Jesus is up on the cross, that would have been a great time to call down those legions of angels! All the taunting. Just reading the taunting makes me want him to do something!

“If you’re the Messiah, why don’t you jump down, and everybody will believe in you!”

“If you’re the king, come on down!

“If you’re the Son of God, why isn’t God doing something to save you?”

That would have been my cue to act! Pull off something big and splashy – motivate and energize the crowd. And then let the crowd take care of the Roman soldiers and the corrupt religious leaders who did this to Jesus! But it’s obvious; Jesus is not going to fight, but he could!

Matthew, more than any of the other gospel writers, likes to call Jesus ‘the King’. But all the way along Matthew has also told us Jesus is not going to put up a fight. Is Jesus the king? YES, he’s the king! Is he going to fight? No, no… In fact, it almost seems like the title for every chapter in the Gospel of Matthew is ‘He could have, but he didn’t.’

Right after Jesus is born, his parents run away with him to Egypt to escape the evil King Herod. The King is on the run! When Jesus begins his ministry, he’s traveling around through Galilee – the valley of the Jordan River, and he hears that John the Baptist has been arrested. And so he goes back to Nazareth, collects his belongings, and Matthew says, “he moves his residence to Capernaum.” The king is still on the run! When Jesus hears about a plot against him: Herodians and Pharisees plan to assassinate him. He hears about it, and quickly retreats. He’s the King, but he’s on the run. A delegation of official investigators from the capital come up to the hill country of Galilee to investigate this teacher and Jesus retreats into Lebanon. The King is still on the run! When is this King going to turn, and draw a line in the sand, saying, “enough is enough!”?

Personally, I don’t like Jesus to retreat so much.

When he goes to Jerusalem he’s safe in the daytime because the people come in great crowds and listen to him. They serve as a kind of a buffer zone for him. But at night, when the crowd goes home, Jesus gets out of the city. He spends his nights out in Bethany at a place called Gethsemane. He’s safe there. It’s remote there. It’s private there. Only he and a few others know about it, but one of them – Judas Iscariot – goes to the authorities and says, “I know where he spends the night.”

And so here we are, back at today’s Gospel reading. Jesus being grabbed and pushed and shoved. I think it’s time to stand and fight!

“I could ask for twelve legions of angels!” Jesus says. If he wanted to fight, he could fight, and successfully too! But he doesn’t.

As I said, it’s the story we hear from the Gospel of Matthew, from the beginning to the end: “he could have, but he didn’t.”

It could be, that’s something Jesus learned from God. After all, Jesus was “the Son of God” – so we have to take a good look at the way God acts.

You go back to the Book of Genesis. God says to Adam and Eve, “If you eat of the fruit of that tree, you’re dead!” They eat it! And God says, “well, you’re going to have to leave the garden.” And then before they get out of the garden, God says, “Wait a minute! You two are as naked as jay birds!” God makes them some clothes. I don’t know why God just can’t do it?

Remember God says to Jonah, “I want you to go up to Nineveh. Tell them, in forty days this place is coming down around their ears! I am sick of the wickedness of Nineveh. This is the end of it! In forty days, I’m coming in with the wrecking ball!” And then forty days later, God says, “You know, I’m sorry I said that.” God doesn’t do a single thing to hurt the city of Nineveh or its people.

It’s like when Jesus goes through the region of Samaria: the doors are closed, nobody speaks to him, their backs are turned against him, and no hospitality! The twelve disciples come to Jesus, and say, “Do you want us to call down a bolt of lightning from heaven, burn this whole town down to the ground?”

What does Jesus say? “Nah, let’s go on to another town.”

When is Jesus going to turn around, draw a line in the sand, and say, “Enough is enough already!”?

He could have, but he didn’t. Could it be Jesus has in himself the character of God? And the character of God is not just power, but the restraint of power, the restraint of power!

One of the most marvelous pictures of God we have in scripture, is in the fourth and fifth chapters of the Book of Revelation. We read that passage this morning. We’re told the disciple John is on the Island of Patmos when he receives a vision. John is told to come up and enter into this house of terrible splendour – and he can hardly stand it. He’s holding his hand over his eyes, because of the brilliance of the light of God. There are angels – wing tip to wing tip singing, “Nothing is impossible with God. God almighty, holy, holy, holy, almighty God! Everything is possible with God.” And John says, “I went inside, and I saw this throne, this terrible beautiful throne – the very symbol of power upon power, and I look more closely, and I see in the midst of the throne, a lamb, bleeding.” This too is God. Not just power, but the restraint of power.

Let me tell you a story.

About twenty years ago, I had the opportunity to perform the marriage ceremony for a young man who had grown up in the congregation I served in Unionville. He’d been in the youth group. I knew his family, and I knew his family history. As a young teenager he had been very rebellious, but at the age of seventeen, when he finished High School, he decided to enter Royal Military College. He loved it! He excelled there!

So at the time of his wedding he had reached the rank of Captain - held the position of Tank Commander. His was a glorious wedding with all the trimmings of the military - young and handsome military officers in their dress uniforms. The newly married couple walks out of the door of the church and runs the gauntlet of a path under the crossed swords of his fellow officers. These young men - proud and confident in their positions - strong and brave!

Some time later, I received another call from this young man. He’s leaving for Afghanistan, and he says to me, “Can I come and see you before I go?” When we meet, he tells me, in June of 2008, one of those handsome young officers from the wedding – his good friend - was killed in Afghanistan, and now, that’s where this young man’s going. To join the battle – to the same place where his friend was killed.

He says, “Can you pray for me?”

And I say, “I will, you know I will.”

He says, “Thank you.”

And then he goes on, “I know you’ll pray for my safety, but can you pray for something else as well.” He says to me, “I’m angry about what happened to my friend, but I can’t let that affect my job over there.”

Then he goes on to explain to me, “I command a Leopard II tank. It weighs fifty thousand kilograms. The main gun is five inches in diameter. It has a range of three miles. The round leaves the barrel of the gun travelling at five thousand feet per second. If my target is two miles away, it will be there in two seconds. It will have destroyed the target before they ever hear the explosion from my gun. It can penetrate steel armour two feet thick. It can pass through the wall of a building, or a human body, like its tissue paper. My Leopard II tank is more powerful than anything else on the ground they can throw against us. With that much power at my command, will you pray for me to have the restraint, the restraint appropriate to my duty and to my mission.”

It was such an unusual request, pray that we have restraint. This young army captain knew, it’s not the power, it’s the restraint of power. The mark of a civilized society is the restraint of power. The mark of a civilized human being is the restraint of power. When we had finished praying together, this army captain wanted to know if he could sit in the sanctuary for a while. I took him to the sanctuary of the church, and I left him there. As I turned to leave, I looked back at him, and there he was, seated alone in the sanctuary. Now, isn’t that a picture: a handsome young officer, the insignia of his rank proudly displayed on his shoulders, in prayer, listening for God’s voice of wisdom, control and restraint.

He did come back safely.

God didn’t send the Son into the world to destroy the world. If Jesus had wanted for any small thing -

but he didn’t - but that the world be saved through him, “for God so loved the world, for God so loved the world …”