The Power That Gives Itself Away
Rethinking Power Through the Divine Lens
One of the things we often misunderstand about God is God’s relationship to power. As human beings, we live in constant negotiation with power. We strive for more of it—over our circumstances, our environments, and sometimes even over each other. But inevitably, our pursuit of power comes with a cost: someone else has to give theirs up.
But God is not like us in this regard. God’s relationship to power is fundamentally different. God is infinitely powerful—so powerful that there is no need to gain more. In fact, God cannot gain more power. Instead, God’s only relationship to power is to give it away. From the very act of creation, God surrenders power to allow for freedom. Creation can now choose. It can choose who it will be, how it will live, and whether it will remain in relationship with its Creator.
The Cross and the Counterintuitive Power of God
This idea becomes central when we turn our eyes to the cross. Because from a human point of view, we might ask: why would any God choose to look so fragile? So weak? That’s the tension we live in—we are wired to acquire, to assert, to dominate. But God’s divine strength is not threatened by appearance. Infinite power can never be diminished.
And that’s not a New Testament invention. It's woven into the whole narrative. Think of 1 Samuel 4, when the Israelites wage an unprovoked war and assume that invoking God's name or even carrying the Ark of the Covenant will ensure victory. But God wants no part of it. Even if God's name is humiliated in the process, it doesn’t matter—because that kind of humiliation doesn’t touch the reality of divine power.
Power in the Form of Self-Giving Love
This is where we often go wrong. We imagine God in our own image—grasping for more, unwilling to lose, fighting to maintain control. But the scriptures tell another story. One in which God invites us not to compete for supremacy, but to witness and emulate a power defined by self-giving love.
It’s a story that has always unsettled people. There's a piece of ancient graffiti—the Alexamenos graffito—found in second-century Rome. It mocks a Christian named Alexamenos by depicting him worshipping a crucified figure with a donkey’s head. The idea of a crucified God was absurd to them. And let’s be honest—it still is to many today.
But for us, the absurdity is the point. What kind of God chooses weakness? Ours does. Because our God has always measured strength not by dominance, but by the capacity to love, to sacrifice, to choose peace over war.
The Quiet Strength of Peace
Last week, we explored how God has been willing to lose long before we understood the wisdom in that. God’s strength isn’t found in bravado or bluster. Divine power shows up in quiet resolve, in the refusal to perpetuate cycles of violence, in the commitment to do what is right even when it costs something.
As the theologian Lil Wayne once said, "Real G's move in silence like lasagna." Divine power doesn’t need to prove itself. It simply acts, often quietly, but always with integrity.
So if you’re feeling weary or uncertain about what strength looks like, remember this: Sometimes, power looks more like quiet peace than celebratory praise. And sometimes, that’s exactly the kind of power we need to hold onto.
