We all want power, but power gets a bum rap. I'm not speaking about Enron-although, recent news stories about condemnation and power have confused me. Since I've been preparing for this sermon series on leadership, I've been reading a lot about power, so you can see why that kind of headline would confuse me. But this sermon isn't about electricity, it's about the kind of power that makes things happen.

"The ability to make things happen." That's a neutral statement about power, and its simplicity is appealing. Power and leadership have been linked in my mind, and I hope that works for you, too. Both "make things happen." The little kid standing against the giant, using rocks to make him fall flat on his face-that was power. It was also leadership. My grama used to tell me to watch for the "real" leaders on a construction site-the ones who could always be counted on, the ones who, before the end of coffee break would be the first to put their cup back on the thermos and say, "Well!" as they headed back to work. They were the ones who could figure out a way to do things that had the rest of the crew still back in the job trailer scratching their heads. That's the kind of "leadership" David showed in today's story. He knew what was at stake, whose he was, and he could interpret this to others. David knew Goliath was insulting God, not the puny Israelite army. David knew the army was not "servants of Saul," as Goliath said, but "servants of God." This little kid trusted God when the grown-up army was drenched in dismay day after day as the giant insulted them and their God. The kid used the skills he was good at. He acted as if he had been preparing for this event all along. Does that kind of leadership come from brain, brawn, or heart? Wherever its source, David uses his power positively to lead.

Go with me now to Paul's letter to the church in Corinth, with its catalogue of Paul's pain and suffering. I've had a hard time not hearing Paul's use of power as manipulation. Mothers around here are so nice, I'm sure they don't do what mothers do in the Midwest. You've heard Garrison Keillor stories with the heroic and put-upon mother saying, "Don't put yourself out for me, I'll be fine." Midwestern mothers say things like "I slaved over the stove all afternoon, and if you don't eat the smelt and cabbage hot dish, all that work will go to waste." You gotta eat it. She worked her fingers to the bone, knitting you snow pants. Even though none of the other kids wear snow pants, you can't let those bony fingers be for nothing. Does this sound like Paul, trying to guilt the church in Corinth into treating him better? After how much he has suffered on their behalf, they must listen to him! I can't imagine why the lectionary committee put these two readings together, but their juxtaposition screams out to me about the relationship between love and power. Or, in the words of the sermon title, "Fit to lead: brain, brawn, or heart?"

We're asking for trouble, posing that question. Leadership and power with brain sounds like politics, which has a rocky reputation these days. Putting power with brawn (as in, muscle or strength) sounds like police states, or at least Goliath shouting insults from the battle line. But power and heart feels like the slippery slope of manipulation. Given the size differential in today's story, I think we can throw out "brawn." David's story implies that there are plenty of times when not-power-giving up power-means more about "making things happen" than strength does. You remember Jesus-the guy who said "the first shall be last?" Think about other circumstances when not-power, when love itself, makes things happen. When I was at Summer Conference a couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine roomed two doors down the hall from me in the dorm. She had her 21-month-old son with her. We were on the 2nd floor of the dorm, which meant carrying the stroller and the boy and the diapers and the toys and the sippy cup and the extra clothes up and down the stairs several times a day. For me, it was an experience of being led by love for this kid, as we went to meals on his schedule and at his rate. "A little child shall lead them" took on new meaning as the rhythms of our days were governed by the child. As I walked the labyrinth at Mt Angel this week, I pondered again the connection between love and power. The easy answer is always, "Jesus." He personified the perfect model of love at work together with power to make things happen. But it's that sinful human thing that keeps us from doing a good job of following his example. Sometimes I despair of living up to his example.

Rick and I just saw the movie The Emperor's Club. It's kind of like Dead Poet's Society, in that they both take place in residential boys' schools. Whereas Dead Poet's Society was about living life fully, The Emperor's Club is about living life with integrity. The hero of the story is a Western Civilization professor, passionately devoted to shaping the character of his students through the study of history. The character who challenges him the most is the son of a powerful politician. The kid is a charismatic leader, but also the kind of kid who, given a choice between doing things honestly or by cheating, opts for cheating every time. The boy's father refuses the notion that anyone would shape his son's character. We rejoin the class of boys twenty-five years later at a contest staged by the charismatic kid, so he said, to vindicate his intellectual integrity. The boys gather-all of them leaders in business, law, government, academia-and the story comes together by a point made by the teacher at the beginning of their studies together, years earlier. One of the most powerful kings in the ancient world was a king whose name no one remembers. The teacher says the king is not remembered because, despite his power he contributed nothing to the world. The teacher's point is that what you contribute is more lasting than power. In the end, the teacher's power is overshadowed by his contribution to the lives of his students, a contribution based on his love for both his subject and his students.

That thing about the rock in the middle of the giant's forehead-the detailed description of size makes it clear that David's power against Goliath was not because of his brawn. Was his power in his brain, his out-witting the dumb giant? Foxing him not only because he was a good shot, but also because he was audacious enough to come against him only with rocks? Is that smart? Was the kid's power in the sheer fearlessness with which he approached the big guy? In March, before our country went to war against Iraq, the faith community was asked to pray that George Bush would live as one who had no fear. We know that the opposite of love is not "hate," but fear, since "perfect love casts out fear." The positive use of power in leadership is based on love. Friends, we don't kill giants to prove we are powerful. We "kill" giants in our lives because we are powerful. The ability to make things happen-power and leadership-comes from the heart. And God asks for our heart because God needs our lives. We are powerful because we know that we are already loved. In life and in death, we belong to God.