Showing posts with label Beatitudes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Beatitudes. Show all posts

Sunday, February 20, 2011

No Retaliation

a Sermon for Epiphany 7A
Text: Matthew 5:38-48

GOD of Hope and Wonder, you give us the tools of great change and the opportunity to make the choice. Help us to see your ways for us as the right choice. Amen.

Retaliation and escalation
Jesus begins the gospel with a familiar phrase: “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.'” Now, I know that you know where this comes from and what it is about; I am just reminding you. To do that, we’ll have to go back thousands of years, long before Jesus and even the Torah (from where this phrase comes). Long before all of this, there was a different law of the land. A law, unwritten, but understood universally:
If you do something to me, I do something to you.
It is as simple as that. OK, not just as simple as that, because we didn’t just retaliate, we had to do more: we had to teach them a lesson. They had to know that they shouldn’t have done it, and won’t do it again. So if they hit you, you maimed them.
If you do something to me, I do something bigger to you.
Sometimes that lesson wasn’t actually for them, but for other people. So if someone stole your goat from you, you would kill them. You had to show what happens when someone messes with you. If they insulted your wife, you killed them, and their wife. If they went after your kids, you killed them, their wife, and their kids: you wiped the whole family from the face of the earth. That was just what you did.
Besides, they were clearly evil people, anyway.

You can see how this thinking has persisted throughout history. Look at mafia movies:
“Eh! He disrespected me, so I shot him in the head!”
And every week (I guarantee it) there is at least one movie at the theater that encourages over-retaliation. At least one movie that glorifies vengeance. The first one that came to my mind was from a few years ago: Taken with Liam Neeson; a movie in which a man’s daughter is kidnapped, and he proceeds to kill all the people involved in the kidnapping. And we want him to! We watch him get his bloody vengeance and we don’t want to see him show any mercy! He has a movie out this week, Unknown, which appears to have a similar vengeance plot.

Enshrining Evil
There seems to be something in us: something that wants to seek vengeance, to retaliate violently. Something that is in us at a truly base level. Which is why it was so remarkable that GOD would instruct the people with this teaching: “An eye for an eye,” because he tells them not to over-retaliate, to not teach people lessons. If someone steals your goat, you steal it back—you don’t burn his house down or anything else.

But, Jesus recognizes the problem: it actually enshrines violence. It makes retaliation OK, and He isn’t OK with that. Because we love vengeance, so we seek out the most “appropriate” retaliations. If someone messes with us a certain way, we desire to mess with them back—to hurt them in the very way they hurt us.

In the immediately preceding passage, Jesus makes a similar claim about oaths. He says that when you swear an oath, when you pinkie-swear with someone, you are saying that you will be honest and not steal or you will do what you say you will do. At the same time, you also communicate that the rest of the time, you don’t have to be honest. You communicate that it is OK to lie and cheat and steal all the rest of the time. So don’t swear any oath. GOD sees you—even inside your head—and knows when you lie or cheat or steal, so be a person who never lies and cheats and steals and you will never need an oath.

Oaths enshrine evil just as “an eye for an eye” enshrines violence.

Jesus’s way: The Love Revolution
Jesus offers us a different way. But for some reason, we don’t understand it. It has to do with our reptilian brains—the oldest part of our brain—that is hardwired with two options in response to adversity: fight or flight. Either we retaliate, or we run away. This is also the way of the world. The part we’ve inherited from thousands of years ago that yearns for violence. The part that says that the most preferable option is to fight back. That good people fight and cowards run away.

So when we hear Jesus say “But I say to you Do not resist an evildoer,” we hear that as cowardly—as encouraging us to run away. We have to make it fit in that ancient paradigm: it is either one or the other: we have two square pegs and two square holes. And the peg Jesus hands us is round.

To make sense of this, Jesus gives us these three, very visual examples of this third way; and we might mistake them because they are so different from the world:

In the first he says, If somebody hits you on the cheek, offer him the other. Look at this: this is what turning your cheek looks like. You are giving them another shot. That is not running away and that is not retaliating.

Then he says, If somebody sues you for your coat, give them your cloak as well. Imagine the courtroom scene. You are the defendant and the charges are being read and you stand up, and start taking your clothes off. You just take them all off, including your shoes, and you ball them up and walk them to the other desk and you hand them over. Then you walk back and sit down. That is not running away and that is not retaliating.

The third one is awesome—but we screw it up so badly. We misunderstand it. Jesus says, If someone forces you to walk a mile, walk a second one. We hear that phrase, go the extra mile as if it were the ultimate do-gooderism. Good job! You did a little extra! That Protestant Work Ethic thing really suits you! But here is what Jesus is really saying. A Roman soldier would come across a Jewish peasant force him to carry something like 120 pounds of gear. And if the peasant valued his life, he would do it. Now, the image hits home at the important juncture at the end of that mile. Imagine the soldier, chuckling with his buddies about this guy carrying his stuff. He turns to the peasant and says:
“We’re here. I’ll take my stuff back.”
And the peasant responds:
“Actually, I want to keep walking. I’m good.”
This isn’t weak-kneed flubberings and it isn’t work a little harder, either. It is a different kind of option.

Jesus wants us to get that this is a love revolution.

We’ve been reading The Secret Message of Jesus each Sunday, and last week we covered the idea that violent revolution is not revolutionary. That overthrowing a violent regime with a violent revolution is just perpetuating a cycle of violence: it is replacing violence with violence. And more, it enshrines a cycle of violence. Our own revolution enshrined a culture of violence for us. It told us that it is acceptable and there are times to fight fire with fire.

That is the way of the world. Not the way of Jesus.

Jesus encourages us to fight fire with water. To violence, love is the water.

It Begins Here
This whole arc, Matthew 5, the first third of the Sermon on the Mount builds from the Beatitudes to this moment. We learn that we are to be and live a certain way, not act a certain way. We are to love. When Jesus says to love your enemies, I think he really intends to say that when we have a love revolution, there are no enemies. Everyone gets loved.

In the last year, we’ve seen bitterness and anger at St. Paul’s.
That is the way of the world, not the way of Jesus.
Anonymous letters, backbiting, potshots from the peanut gallery, back room conversations about people and their families.
That is the way of the world, not the way of Jesus.
People have even used our youth as weapons.
That is the way of the world, not the way of Jesus.

This ends today.

When St. Paul’s is on track, it is the epicenter of the love revolution. We might track evil in, like mud on our shoes. Just tap your shoe, and knock it off. This is a new place, not of this world. Something new.

Here and now—we love. We are a new creation built on love.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Destroying Dogma

a Sermon for Epiphany 5A
Text: Matthew 5:13-20


GOD of Hope and Wonder, we think we’re doing your will when we create an ethical framework for our lives, for our church, and for our society. Help us to overcome our hubris . Amen.

Liberty and Freedom
This morning’s collect used two words we love deeply: liberty and freedom. There’s something about those words, isn’t there? Liberty. Freedom. Ooh! It’s in our bones—our ethnic heritage, our social groupings, our society at-large. It’s everywhere. Maybe our brains like liberty and hearts like freedom. It does something to us. We’re seeing a living example right now in Egypt and Tunisia. We can only hope and pray that they continue to seek liberty and freedom, and avoid the comfort of authoritarianism.

But the point is that we love these words: liberty and freedom. Let’s say them together. Out loud. If you are reading this in a Barnes & Noble CafĂ©, just say it out loud, anyway! Liberty. Freedom. Liberty! Freedom! Liberty!!! Freedom!!!!

Ah! Don’t you feel better?

Our gospel, on the other hand, uses a word that doesn’t excite us the same way: Law. Well, maybe the lawyers in the room (and the Pharisees) are allowed to get excited about the word. It is their vocation, after all.

Law.

It just doesn’t have the same feel, does it? Freedom is, well, freeing…while Law feels more restrictive. In fact, we often talk about it as the opposite of freedom and liberty, but we know, deep-down, that it is essential to liberty. Our country was founded on laws; laws that enshrined and created freedom. And yet, we feel restricted by them anyway.

This gospel has Jesus answer an unspoken question about the Law: “Jesus, why do you hate it?” A more charitable and authentic question might be better phrased “Jesus, why do you keep breaking the Law? Aren’t you supposed to uphold it?” Jesus’s response is actually quite surprising. He says “I don’t hate it: I love it! I love every letter of it.”

The Law
This is an important statement because we need to step back from our 21st Century American understanding of the word "law". The Hebrew word we translate as The Law is Torah. We know this word, because it is also the name of the first five books of the Hebrew Scripture. When Jesus or the Pharisees talk about The Law, they aren’t simply talking about a legal code established centuries earlier, they are talking about these books of the Bible. They are speaking about the story of GOD’s relationship with humanity. Some Hebrew scholars encourage us to speak not of TL: The Law, but of The Way. Sound familiar?

And what Jesus seems to be dealing with are two groupings or understandings of ethical behavior:
  1. Torah: The overarching sense of community and connectedness and relationship with GOD. This means the truths found in Scripture, the story, relationship, and agreed upon authority.
  2. Pharisaic Law: The ethical framework that expounds on Torah. This is about relating the truth of Torah to the world and present conditions.
  • Example: The Torah speaks of keeping the Sabbath day and making it Holy.
  • The Pharisees began listing all of the types of things that constituted work on the Sabbath:
The Pharisees know that Jim Bob is kind of an idiot, so they believe he needs things spelled out for him. So they take the teaching and they say we need to make sure Jim Bob doesn’t do anything like “work” on the Sabbath. It talks about not going into the field, but Jim Bob makes stuff, so he shouldn't do that. He also shouldn’t cook or clean or go shopping or sell stuff or…on and on.

Jesus goes and stomps all over the Pharisaic Law, essentially saying “That isn’t Torah, that’s man’s law.”

We have a similar structure today, in the church:
  1. Doctrine: The overarching law is called doctrine: This is made up of scriptural-based faith statements and mutually agreed principals.
  2. Dogma: The ethical framework that is based on doctrine is called dogma. These are the localized ethics created by humans.
  • Example: One doctrine is that Jesus was a human for a prescribed time in history.
  • One dogma is the Roman Catholic’s ruling against the use of birth control.

We see Jesus trample on the dogmas of his day, and I think, would encourage us to do the same. But the point isn’t to be obstinate: but to direct our attention to the doctrine, The Law, The Way, Torah.

The Point
By now, you are no doubt wondering what the point is.

You are all very smart and astutely noticed that this is still Matthew 5, and comes immediately after the Beatitudes; that this is still the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount.

Now notice that Jesus is talking about “entering the Kingdom of Heaven” in last verse. This is the fourth mentioning of the Kingdom of Heaven in just 20 verses. Last week we learned that the poor of spirit and the persecuted will possess the kingdom: “Blessed are the poor of spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.” And we also learned that the Kingdom is in the present—that the Children of God are blessed peacemakers.

The reason Jesus doesn’t create an ethical framework or subset of laws like the Pharisees, or give us a laundry list of dogma to obey is because we are called to live and be a certain way, not behave a certain way. We are called to love generously and indiscriminately, not prescribe who gets love. We are called to single out who needs our love most and give it to them instead of punishing them further. We are called to live in the Kingdom now, forgiving each other, loving each other.

Jesus names the least in the kingdom: the scribes and the Pharisees. When we obsess about each other's behavior—we are the least. When we demand adherence to laws we’ve made—we are the least. When we hold grudges and insult one another in the name of Jesus—we are the least in the Kingdom.

I don’t know about you, but I refuse to strive for least.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Blessed

a Sermon for Epiphany 4A
Text: Matthew 5:1-12

[Note: the original sermon was preached from sparse notes. What follows is a fleshing out of those notes as best as I can.]

GOD of Hope and Wonder, you gave us Jesus as Messiah and Lord. Open our hearts to love as he loves, our imaginations to dream as he dreams, and our eyes to see the world as he sees it. Amen.
The first five words of the gospel give us an interesting way to see this very familiar gospel of the Beatitudes:
“When Jesus saw the crowds.”
We don’t know what he sees, or what he makes of it, but this symbol is very powerful; Jesus saw them.

Who we are not talking about
Jesus gives us a pretty good description throughout each of the gospels of the people to whom we are to minister. In many places, it is the outsider, such as…
  1. People from another tribe—like the Samaritans,
  2. Traitors to the tribe—tax collectors were seen as traitors because they were Jews that taxed other Jews on behalf of Rome, and of course,
  3. The ritually impure within the tribe—prostitutes and other “sinners” whose very livelihood kept them from being considered one of the “normal” people.
In other places we get a glimpse of those that fall through the cracks: the destitute and the desperate—the poor, the sick, the disabled.

Through all of these stories of Jesus talking to, eating with, advocating for these groups, we start to harmonize them and see any of Jesus’s teachings about others as being about this faceless group of outsiders, condemned by Jewish society. We make the relevant translation to our own world and see the homeless we’ve met or the people we’ve helped in the words of the gospel. But today, let’s not do that. These might be the people Jesus really is talking about in this gospel, but for today, let’s not think about them. Let’s say that this has nothing to do with others. In fact, this has to do with us.


9 that are blessed
The way the Beatitudes are set up is as nine blessings. The first is telling: “Blessed are the poor in spirit”. We often jump to the other with this one. We think of the depressed, or the doubter, or the one unhappy in church. If we were Evangelicals, we call these “the unchurched.” Instead, let’s see this as people that look out the window and see the trouble in the world. People that are hurt by the pain they see through that window, and are made sad by destruction and evil.

The next is “Blessed are those who mourn”. This isn’t simply widows, but all of those who grieve what they or others have lost: all people that know loss and are pained by what is gone.

“Blessed are the meek” isn’t just talking about the weak or the timid, but all those who refuse to watch one more person get hurt or abused—and we also refuse to be the one who does it.

These first three are more or less passive, or receptive. What is seen affects their outlook and begins to affect their action. The next three are increasingly active.

The fourth, and I love the way this is described, is “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness”. Think about those descriptors: how do we feel hunger, but as the very seizing of our stomachs—a pain that rises from our bellies. Thirst is similar: our throats get itchy and irritated, our tongues and mouths get dry and scratchy; our entire neck and heads scream out for relief. For those that hunger and thirst for righteousness, it is the very body that feels and reflects the pain of injustice—compelling us to relieve that pain.

The fifth, “Blessed are the merciful” are those who reject vengeance and hatred, because there is already too much of that, and instead respond to everything with compassion and love.

The sixth, “Blessed are the pure in heart” are those who do not respond out of intellect or tradition, but out of GOD’s righteousness.

Each of these “blesseds” builds up to the seventh; the crux of the whole thing, and the most active: “blessed are the peacemakers”.

And the last two are what happens in response to how we act, seemingly bringing us back to the receptive beginning:

8. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake
9. Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.

Christ is the Beatitudes
This entire conversation isn’t a list of tasks for Christians. It isn’t simply an ethic.
As Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote:
“Action in accord with Christ does not originate in some ethical principle, but in the very person of Jesus Christ.” (Ethics 2005, 231)
Jesus is the center of the Beatitudes.
Notice that the gospel’s description is not simply what would be if we did this, but the future that will be when we are this.
Remember? “Blessed are the meek”—not “you will be blessed when you choose to be meek”.

The Two Most Important Words
This gospel uses two really important words that we should look at.
  1. Blessed: We take the word blessed to mean blessings in life—some of you (not me) have been blessed with good looks or wealth or talents. In other words, the stuff we get from GOD. A more ancient and appropriate understanding would be sanctified or consecrated or holy. ‘Holy are the meek’.
  2. Peace: The 21st Century American English word is so inadequate to describe Jesus’s intentions for us. All we know about peace is the absence of war or conflict. Jesus meant, and would have used the Hebrew word Shalom. Shalom doesn’t simply mean the absence of war or conflict, but
Safety…
happiness…
justice & truth…
Wholeness, completeness…
The well-being of others.

This is why the seventh Beatitude is so important to the whole gospel: “Holy are the Shalom-makers, for they will be called children of God.” We know that it is our job to bring wholeness and completeness to the world. That we are the ones that transform this gospel about other people into a gospel about us in this world. That these Beatitudes are, in fact, about us.

The Jesus at the center of this gospel, longs for us to make this world complete in the hear and now. He has given us a vision of the Kingdom and about who we are to be. We are invited to be reconciled and to reconcile, to love and to be loved. To share in the sanctified as poor in spirit, mourners, the meek, righteousness seers, mercy bestowers, lovers, and shalommakers.

May we be receptive to the world, moved and inspired by righteousness and love, that we seek mercy instead of vengeance, hope in the face of despair, and justice when we feel pain; and may the world be so transformed that we see one another as blessed. Amen.