1-14-07 Superheroes to the Rescue!!!
I Corinthians 12:1-11
I actually once saw a pastor climb up on the pulpit and then leap through the air toward the congregation. Funny thing is, I can’t remember why he did it, what point he was trying to make. All I remember is that he didn’t land really well and I was pretty sure it didn’t do his knees any good. It’s that problem with the knees that discourages me from trying that stunt, because it really would be a dramatic way to introduce today’s sermon: a sermon about superheroes and their superpowers.
It all started back in 1938 with the appearance of a new comic book character named Superman. A nice, polite guy, faster than a speeding bullet, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, dressed in a colorful costume, who used his gifts to fight for truth, justice, and the American way.
The success of this character spawned a new genre of fiction—the superhero. They popped up everywhere, people with bizarre taste in clothing and incredible powers magnified far beyond that of the ordinary person. I grew up with the 2nd generation of superheroes—Spiderman and the Incredible Hulk. There was something magical and satisfying and secure about relying on these gifted freaks of nature for our protection.
Of course, to ratchet up the tension, storytellers had to come up with supervillains, again, people with incredible powers, only not inclined to use them for good. It was great fun to see how the good guys could wield their fantastic powers to overcome the deadly powers of the enemy.
Before long, one superhero wasn’t enough. They came up with teams of Superheroes with complimentary powers. The Fantastic Four, the X-Men, the Justice League of America. The powers became more specific. One hero had magnetic powers, another was indestructible, another had amazing psychic powers, another was superflexible. Superheroes could produce bursts of flame or storms; they had laser vision or invisibility. Every year we see more of these characters come to life on the big screen and dozens more appear in comic pages. There are now literally thousands of comic book superheroes in existence, each with a unique gift of superhuman ability.
As I was reading Paul’s list of gifts of the spirit in Corinthians, I began to see the possibility for a new series called Superheroes of the Christian Faith.
Dressed in a simple white robe and flowing cape, bent over from age and leaning on a cane, we have Wisdom Man, leader of the League of Christian Superheroes. He has a super ability to make correct decisions. At the snap of a finger, he can figure out what needs to be done, how to get the right mix of tradition and innovation, how the community ought to behave, and how to plan properly for the future.
At his side is his wife, Knowledge Woman, dressed in black tights, and academic robe and a mortarboard with a tassel. She is a walking encyclopedia, a sponge of information, a human computer. Ask her any question and she can spit out all the relevant facts, including the context and meaning of various scripture passages.
Those two work closely together, along with their teenage son, Discerno. Casually dressed in blue jeans and flannel shirt, Discerno sports a huge pair of black-tinted goggles that facilitates his power to discern when God is speaking, and whether God is truly calling someone to the ministry.
There is The Prophet, a fierce crusader in his hooded gray robe, carrying a large staff upon which is perched a blazing coal of fire. The Prophet is the champion of the poor, the downtrodden, and oppressed. He has superhuman powers of finding their needs, communicating these needs to the community, and persuading people to act.
There is Faith, a woman dressed in shining armor, with a brightly polished gold helmet. With her extraordinary powers, she can quench doubt, rouse people from apathy, and cause people to undertake daring adventures and endure great hardship in the name of the Lord.
There are the twins, Healer, dressed in her surgical greens, and Miracle Worker, in his televangelists’ three piece suit. She has powers of nursing people back to health; he is able to bring startling and unexpected results, often in the most hopeless of situations.
Finally we have Tongueman. Now that’s not as gross as that sounds. Wrapped entirely in mysterious red, accented with yellow and orange flames, face hidden, he has powers of speaking in strange and unintelligible languages. Being Lutheran, I’m having a hard time figuring out what he can actually accomplish with that power, so I’m open to suggestion.
There we have the Superheroes of the Christian faith, ready to fight and vanquish the legions of supervillains who plague our world. With these superheroes coming to the rescue, the church will grow and prosper and God’s kingdom shall reign over all the earth.
I think it would make a fun story. Sometimes maybe we even lean a little bit that way with our own Bible stories. But my Christian superhero roster is wishful thinking, as are all superhero stories. A fun bit of escapism. In reality, we have no superheroes to fight our battles, as a nation or on behalf of all humanity. We have no League of Christian Superheroes to defeat the forces of evil.
Sometimes we have delusions of grandeur, to the point where we think of ourselves as that League of Christian Superheroes. As possessors of superpowers.
That actually was why Paul wrote chapter 12 of his letter to the Corinthians. The Corinthians believed themselves to be superheroes—possessors of great powers of wisdom and knowledge far beyond that of the pitiful mortals in the rest of the world. They were proud of their powers and scornful of lower forms of humanity that were not up to their standards.
I believe that Paul had two points in mind in this portion of 1 Corinthians. First, to dispel the myth of superheroes. When you think about it, superheroes are part human, part god. They are given the powers of the gods to do things far beyond what humans could accomplish in our world. We in the Christian church declare that there are no other gods, and so, by definition, there can be no League of Christian Superheroes. The work of the church in aiding the coming of the kingdom of God is never going to involve us in the role of superheroes.
So, Corinthians, take a step back off your pedestal. You’re not as smart or clever as you think you are. Any time that people of any faith claim to be superheroes coming to the rescue, whose task is to right all wrongs, to set all people straight, to cleanse the earth of the godless, bad things happen. It is not our role to be superheroes. We are all human; that is our place in the world. As the story of Adam of Eve relates, one of the greatest failing of humans is that they forget their place and try to be God.
The second thing Paul is saying is that, while we are not superheroes, we do have access to powers that come from beyond the material world. Paul refers to them as gifts of the spirit. They are not superpowers given to superheroes. But they are very useful powers, given to us. Mortal though we may be, we can accomplish some pretty cool things with these gifts.
There are at least three places in Paul’s letters, in addition to this Corinthians passage, where he catalogues the gifts of the spirit. In Romans 8, for example, he cites prophecy, ministry, teaching, encouragement, generosity, diligence, and compassion as gifts of the spirit. In Ephesians 4, and later in this same letter to the Corinthians, he again recites a list of these gifts.
Like the powers of superhero tales, we find that many of these gifts are not distributed equally. We don’t all have the same powers. Some of us find that we have been especially gifted in a particular area. Paul noted that some people have a special ability to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, some leaders, some healers, and so on.
Because of this unequal distribution of gifts, we find that we work much better and accomplish so much more when we pool our gifts. That is why the church, despite its faults and squabbles, is in existence. That is why Christianity is not simply a personal relationship with God, why I cannot worship God just as well on my own, in my own way, in the privacy of my own home or by going out and being one with nature.
Perhaps you’ve noticed that the world is not a perfect place; it is filled with complex problems, deep sorrow, desperation, and uncontrolled anger. Rebuilding that world in the image of God is a monumental task. We can accomplish very little on our own, and very little without employing all the gifts of the spirit at our disposal. I don’t have all the gifts to fight all the powers of darkness by myself. I need yours as well.
We are at our best as a church when we recognize the gifts that we have been given and use them together in the service of the coming reign of God. This congregation soars to the rescue of the community when some recognize their gifts in music, others in puppet ministry. Some in working with young people, others in creating quilts. Some in visiting those in need, others in building houses for the homeless. Some in providing major financial gifts, others in organizing and directing finances. Some in maintaining a clean facility, others in working with agencies in the community. Some in welcoming visitors, others in getting out the word about the grace of God. That is the church being what it is supposed to be.
The church begins to falter when we fail to make a clean distinction between a gift and a superpower. When we say, I can’t use my gift of teaching because I don’t know everything. When we say, I can’t use my gift of faith in reading a Scripture lesson because I might not read it perfectly. Whenever we decline share our insight into what God has done for us because I’m not the expert. Whenever we fail to exercise a gift because others could do it better than me, we mistake a gift of the spirit for a superpower.
God’s spirit does not bestow superpowers on people; God bestows gifts. However small or insignificant they may seem, they are to be used.
Prayer is one of those gifts of the spirit, only it’s a bit different from the others. It is not a gift of ability; it is a gift of access. It’s a gift given everyone to help them connect their other gifts to God. In many ways, prayers are the batteries that make our other gifts run. They’re not earmarked for anyone in particular, they’re for everyone.
One of the problems we have with prayer is that we treat it as though it is a talent. I’m not one of those silver-tongued freaks of nature who know how to pray, so I’ll just accept that it isn’t me. I don’t have superpowers to compose anything as beautiful as the Psalms, I don’t speak God-language very well, so I’ll just stay clear of that whole issue. So we end up having the tools, but the batteries to run them stay in the package, unopened.
There are no superheroes coming to rescue the church and make the world the way our Creator intended it. There’s only us.
We have been given tools to do the job in the form of gifts of the spirit. And we’ve also been given the rechargeable batteries in the form of prayer, to power those gifts.
Prayer connects us with God. It is the gift that provides us with the power to make the other gifts work.
So rather than trying to pretend I can energize the congregation by some daring act such as jumping off the pulpit, let us take a moment to connect with our power source:
Gracious God, giver of life. We give thanks for the gifts of the spirit that you have given each of us, for the spirit of cooperation that allows us to pool our gifts in the coming reign of God.
Provide us with the light to recognize what gifts we have been given, gifts and not superpowers, small ones as well as large. Provide us with the burst of inspiration that moves us to take ownership of those gifts and to use them in any way we can. And provide us with the staying power to see through the tasks we undertake when the results seem slow or discouraging. Through your power and grace and the gifts of the spirit, let us build this congregation into a fountain of healing for all who gather here, overflowing into a river of compassion for the world. Amen.