Summary

We’re all a bit like Lois Lane: looking for Superman and we just don’t know where to find him. Wouldn’t it be cool if Superman were your best friend? Unfortunately, all my friends are pathetic like me…like Clark Kent.

In 1938, Superman first appeared in DC Comics.
And in 1938, the philosophy of “the Superman” was taking some nations in Europe by storm.

“I preach to you the Superman [das ubermensch]. The Superman is the meaning of the earth,” wrote Friedrich Nietzsche. “What is good? …Power… What is bad? All that comes from weakness… Christianity.” Adolph Hitler had his soldiers carry Nietzsche’s book in their knapsacks.

It’s all rather ironic, for St. Paul refers to Christ as the Superman, the “eschatos man,” the “last adam,” the “ultimate man.”

In Acts 14:8, Paul and Barnabas travel to Lystra in the Province of Galatia. In Lystra, there was a legend that Zeus and Hermes, disguised as mortal man, had once visited that town. If you know Greek mythology, you know that Zeus had superpower but not a super heart. Zeus is what we dream when we dream our dreams of the Superman.

In Acts 14:9, God heals a crippled man through Paul and Barnabas. The people of Lystra then extol Barnabas as Zeus, and Paul as Hermes—the word of Zeus (“god”). As they bring gifts and offerings to Paul and Barnabas, Paul and Barnabas run into the street crying, “We also are men of like nature with you; we are ‘homoiopathes.’” Literally, “We are pathetic, like you.”

Natives in Hawaii once venerated Captain Cook as a god, but when one of them heard him groan, he yelled, “He groans; he’s ‘homoio-pathetic.’” And at that they all rushed him and killed him on the spot.

Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster invented Superman but sold the rights to Superman in 1938. Years later, they couldn’t even afford to see the Broadway play. George Reeves made Superman famous, but later took his own life, having been typecast as Superman.
Everyone loved Superman, but missed his heart: Jerry Siegel, Joe Shuster, and George Reeves—men that looked a little more like Clark Kent.

Dear Lois, dreaming of Superman can be rather hard on Clark Kent.

In 1938 in Germany, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “He who loves his dream of a community more than Christian community itself becomes a destroyer of the latter.”
In other words, if you think the people in your “community group” (your church) are Superman, you’ll end up crucifying Clark Kent.

In Acts 14:18, Paul and Barnabas can scarcely restrain the crowds from offering sacrifice to them. In Acts 14:19, religious Jews arrive and apparently verify the fact that Paul and Barnabas are pathetic like us. And so, they stone Paul, drag him outside the city, and leave him for dead. Where is Superman now? And why would he allow such a thing?

Once upon a time, God placed his heart in a manger just outside Jerusalem, and everyone but a chosen few missed it.
Once upon a time, He hung his heart on a tree in a garden just outside the city walls, and everyone but a chosen few saw the body broken and thought, “Nothing super here.”

We crucified the Superman . . . and he let us. Why?
Well, Lois, perhaps he wants us to see his Super Heart?
Who could slap Superman, or Clark Kent, and get away with it? –The one he loves. You.

In Acts 14:20, the crowd leaves Paul for dead, because Paul is obviously not the word of Zeus—Zeus would never allow such a thing. The crowd leaves. The “disciples” gather round, body broken and blood shed, and then Paul “rose” and “entered the city.”

First Point: The people in your community group, your church, are not the Superman.
Second Point: Superman is in the people in your community group.

“I have been crucified with Christ.” Wrote Paul, years later, to the believers in Galatia. “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life which I now live in the flesh, I live [literally translated—‘by the faith of’] the son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.”

Second Point: The Superman has made himself the people in your community group.
Third Point: Unlike Zeus, Superman (who is infinite in power) is revealed in weakness.

If you enter into Christian community dreaming your dreams of the Superman, you’ll end up crucifying Clark Kent. But Lois, if you do your best to simply love Clark Kent, Superman is bound to show up.

I’ve looked for the Superman in “Super Christians” and missed him. And yet, I’ve met with some of my “pathetic” friends—just two or three gathered in his name—and Superman has shown up. Each one is a stinky manger that holds the Christ Child, or a tomb from which the Glory of God is soon revealed; each one is Christmas and Easter.

The super-est thing about the Superman is not the infinite nature of his superpower, but the infinite beauty of his Super Heart. And that heart is revealed when a body is broken, the crowd disappears, but the disciples gather round. I’ve seen it time and time again. It’s then that the Superman appears, and we enter the city—the New Jerusalem—as if the Kingdom of Heaven really is at hand, and we actually are his body, and . . . Lois. She’s Superman’s bride.
We’re all a bit like Lois Lane: looking for Superman and we just don’t know where to find him. Wouldn’t it be cool if Superman were your best friend? Unfortunately, all my friends are pathetic like me…like Clark Kent.

In 1938, Superman first appeared in DC Comics.
And in 1938, the philosophy of “the Superman” was taking some nations in Europe by storm.

“I preach to you the Superman [das ubermensch]. The Superman is the meaning of the earth,” wrote Friedrich Nietzsche. “What is good? …Power… What is bad? All that comes from weakness… Christianity.” Adolph Hitler had his soldiers carry Nietzsche’s book in their knapsacks.

It’s all rather ironic, for St. Paul refers to Christ as the Superman, the “eschatos man,” the “last adam,” the “ultimate man.”

In Acts 14:8, Paul and Barnabas travel to Lystra in the Province of Galatia. In Lystra, there was a legend that Zeus and Hermes, disguised as mortal man, had once visited that town. If you know Greek mythology, you know that Zeus had superpower but not a super heart. Zeus is what we dream when we dream our dreams of the Superman.

In Acts 14:9, God heals a crippled man through Paul and Barnabas. The people of Lystra then extol Barnabas as Zeus, and Paul as Hermes—the word of Zeus (“god”). As they bring gifts and offerings to Paul and Barnabas, Paul and Barnabas run into the street crying, “We also are men of like nature with you; we are ‘homoiopathes.’” Literally, “We are pathetic, like you.”

Natives in Hawaii once venerated Captain Cook as a god, but when one of them heard him groan, he yelled, “He groans; he’s ‘homoio-pathetic.’” And at that they all rushed him and killed him on the spot.

Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster invented Superman but sold the rights to Superman in 1938. Years later, they couldn’t even afford to see the Broadway play. George Reeves made Superman famous, but later took his own life, having been typecast as Superman.
Everyone loved Superman, but missed his heart: Jerry Siegel, Joe Shuster, and George Reeves—men that looked a little more like Clark Kent.

Dear Lois, dreaming of Superman can be rather hard on Clark Kent.

In 1938 in Germany, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “He who loves his dream of a community more than Christian community itself becomes a destroyer of the latter.”
In other words, if you think the people in your “community group” (your church) are Superman, you’ll end up crucifying Clark Kent.

In Acts 14:18, Paul and Barnabas can scarcely restrain the crowds from offering sacrifice to them. In Acts 14:19, religious Jews arrive and apparently verify the fact that Paul and Barnabas are pathetic like us. And so, they stone Paul, drag him outside the city, and leave him for dead. Where is Superman now? And why would he allow such a thing?

Once upon a time, God placed his heart in a manger just outside Jerusalem, and everyone but a chosen few missed it.
Once upon a time, He hung his heart on a tree in a garden just outside the city walls, and everyone but a chosen few saw the body broken and thought, “Nothing super here.”

We crucified the Superman . . . and he let us. Why?
Well, Lois, perhaps he wants us to see his Super Heart?
Who could slap Superman, or Clark Kent, and get away with it? –The one he loves. You.

In Acts 14:20, the crowd leaves Paul for dead, because Paul is obviously not the word of Zeus—Zeus would never allow such a thing. The crowd leaves. The “disciples” gather round, body broken and blood shed, and then Paul “rose” and “entered the city.”

First Point: The people in your community group, your church, are not the Superman.
Second Point: Superman is in the people in your community group.

“I have been crucified with Christ.” Wrote Paul, years later, to the believers in Galatia. “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life which I now live in the flesh, I live [literally translated—‘by the faith of’] the son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.”

Second Point: The Superman has made himself the people in your community group.
Third Point: Unlike Zeus, Superman (who is infinite in power) is revealed in weakness.

If you enter into Christian community dreaming your dreams of the Superman, you’ll end up crucifying Clark Kent. But Lois, if you do your best to simply love Clark Kent, Superman is bound to show up.

I’ve looked for the Superman in “Super Christians” and missed him. And yet, I’ve met with some of my “pathetic” friends—just two or three gathered in his name—and Superman has shown up. Each one is a stinky manger that holds the Christ Child, or a tomb from which the Glory of God is soon revealed; each one is Christmas and Easter.

The super-est thing about the Superman is not the infinite nature of his superpower, but the infinite beauty of his Super Heart. And that heart is revealed when a body is broken, the crowd disappears, but the disciples gather round. I’ve seen it time and time again. It’s then that the Superman appears, and we enter the city—the New Jerusalem—as if the Kingdom of Heaven really is at hand, and we actually are his body, and . . . Lois. She’s Superman’s bride.

Subscribe to the Podcast

All Sermons