August 30, 2020 | Worship

There’s something I’ve heard a lot of families really love to do. It’s something that brings them closer, that creates the cherished memories that they’ll carry with them throughout the years. It strengthens bonds, leads to howling laughter, and I’m sure it probably teaches a few lessons in cooperation, humility, and grace. Except it’s something I’m better off not doing, and I’m really bad at.

What is this wonderful activity? Family game nights.

They seem like a great idea, I’ll pull the scrabble board out with the best of intentions. And then someone else manages to get a triple word score using the letter Q somehow, and I become enraged, a creature from my own worst nightmares: I become a very, very sore loser. I love to win. I even struggle with tic-tac-toe as I’m playing with my first grader, and I have to remind myself that there is no trophy for moms who mercilessly win every round against their small child.

I’d love to think that this is just my own personal issue, however, as I look around it becomes pretty clear that this desire to win is a product of the culture I come from. As Americans, victory and dominance are deeply embedded into our value system. Don’t believe me? Think about whichever presidential candidate you’re planning on voting for. Now, imagine that the candidate you do not want wins by a landslide. How are you feeling? If you’re like many of the folks I’ve been talking to representing both of the major political parties, you’re probably feeling sick and a little ragey. We don’t like defeat. Our sports teams can even give us similar responses. When I found out that my husband liked…I can’t even say it out loud, well, I’m a Giants fan, so…, anyway, I was shocked, befuddled, and immediately forbade any talk of *that* team winning if it also meant that my team is losing. We hear of fights breaking out, violence happening at events when the fans of rival teams get a little too wrapped up in this cultural value of victory. Even those of us who don’t get disproportionately attached to board game wins can fall into the trap of pursuing success above all else.

Peter, who we remember in last week’s text was given kudos for his faithful confession that Jesus is the messiah, has just had his humility checked in this week’s reading. I feel like I could have made a series of the last few weeks of sermons entitled, “Oh, Peter.” We are given another fascinating look into the complex person Simon called Peter was as we read that just as quickly as Peter had declared Jesus is the Messiah, he has also blurted out that Jesus should probably avoid that whole suffering and death piece. Peter, who was juuuuust the star student, is now responded to with “get behind me, Satan!”

See, Peter, even though he knows Jesus is the Messiah, he’s also a product of his culture. He was ready for some sort of great victory, a triumph over the oppressors. He was ready for Jesus to take down Rome, and anything counter to that imagery was unfathomable to him. For Jesus to begin to reveal to the disciples that there would be great suffering, and then death, this was completely against what had been formed in Peter’s mind by the cultural expectation that the messiah would be a victorious king. Hearing suffering and death, it’s easy to understand how the next part, “and on the third day be raised,” maybe wasn’t the most shocking part of Jesus’ revelation about the times to come. Peter was so focused on what he thought a win would look like, that he couldn’t comprehend beyond death to the different kind of triumph that was to come with the resurrection.

So he pulled Jesus aside and tried to reason with him. Jesus, you can’t. How about you don’t just give up, don’t admit defeat, and don’t let the Romans kill you? Instead, let’s, you know, win. This can’t happen.

The way Jesus responds to this is with a swift reminder that Peter’s idea of success is pretty darned…human. Jesus is human, too, so it comes with a warning—do not tempt him to take the easy, worldly-stuff focused way out.

The words “Get behind me, Satan!” cause us to bristle as we encounter them, it seems like an extra harsh response to the person who just a few verses ago was called the foundation of the church. However, remembering that Jesus is human and divine, we can understand the urgency of Jesus’ response, the need to keep all temptation away. Get behind me is a way of asserting that Peter needs to remember that he is following Jesus’ lead, and it is essential for him to follow lest he become a stumbling block. Focusing too much on this human view of victory, the standard for success set by the dominant culture, could complicate and mess up the whole thing.

The values set by the dominant culture can be dangerous if we allow ourselves to elevate them higher than God. Winning at scrabble at any cost is just a symptom of a larger cultural value that is placed on dominance, however, we her over and over again from jesus that the last will be first. That power as defined by people has no bearing on how God defines power and success. Rather, we know that practicing some of the harder forms of love are what it takes to truly follow Christ. In Matthew, we hear “if they want to become my followers, let them deny themselves ad take up their cross and follow me.” This is a martyr-complex-inducing piece of scripture, however, what is being asked of us is to drop the idea that victory can be won by domination. What good is it to be the most highly decorated scrabbler ever to place a wooden tile on a board game if one did not show love, but instead became overcome with evil in order to achieve that title? I’m sure you can take the metaphor further while thinking of corporate greed, political power-grabs, and literally any other way that we put victory before God.

Our text from Romans, luckily, outlines many ways to flip the script on winning from our cultural compulsion to personally get ahead, and instead we are able to see how we are to move humanity along by looking out for the best interests of our neighbor as well. Success looks different when we realize we should all succeed. This list of ways to love is as counter-cultural today as it was when Paul wrote it. We can keep God as our focus when we follow this love list, and we help move others closer to God as we show them love, even and especially the harder ways of loving other. You know what I mean. There are the easy kinds of love. I can shower my kids with hugs and kisses and “well, alright, another 20 minutes of YouTube” love all day long, that’s easy. They’re cute. Outdoing one another in showing honor is not as easy, especially when I don’t necessarily like the other person. Like, at all. Blessing and not cursing those who persecute me, yeah, not so easy. Especially on game night.

Right now, this message of not worshiping at the altar of the victory cup is an important one for us, as we risk not extending the kind of love that brings others closer to God by clinging to the ways we personally want to win, whether it’s in an online argument that we’re too proud to back down from or an affinity toward the people we like, who think like us, and cursing at those who don’t. We can practice shedding our culturally-prescribed love of victory by asking ourselves if this thing we’re really fired up about fits the description of love offered in Romans 12. If it doesn’t, it might mean that we are placing too much value on something that can act as a stumbling block for our own spiritual progress and for the spiritual progress of those around us. Let’s not be taken in by he allure of a human standard for success, but instead be open to the way of the cross, a way that, even though challenges and trial opens up new ways of learning, living, and yes, loving together. May our understanding of these sacred texts be blessed, and may our actions follow—get behind—Jesus, trusting his divine lead. Amen.