The 7th Sunday after Epiphany: Love Your Enemy?

So much of the Gospel lesson from Matthew gets quoted in all sorts of contexts:  “Turn the other cheek . . . go the second mile . . . love your enemies . . . be perfect . . .”  But context in which Matthew places Jesus was on a mountain with his disciples. Jesus sought to prepare them for the ministry he would entrust to them. And there was a larger context:  the society in which Jesus, his disciples, and the people for whom Matthew wrote this gospel lived. They lived as oppressed people under the brutal Roman Empire.  So Jesus was trying to prepare them for what they would have to face as his followers.

Within this context, Jesus taught his disciples about a way of life that questioned the very assumptions under which people usually operate.  If another person has power and abuses it, people usually make one of two choices.  One choice would be to fight back, using the same methods as the oppressor, as much as they are able.  The other choice would be to lay low and do what is demanded.  Jesus suggests a third way—to resist oppression by refusing to accept the oppressor's scenario—to resist injustice by choosing to act in way that overturns the perpetrator's expectations.  This sort of behavior involves great risk.  The Romans executed Jesus for behaving as he taught.  Matthew Boulton, who teaches at Harvard Divinity School, described Jesus' teaching as “a deeper more radical resistance . . . non-cooperation in the underlying paradigm of hate and brutality . . . active, creative non-resistance to the evildoer.”  As it did for Jesus, acting in this way often carries great risk—and sometimes great cost.

This passage from Matthew influenced Mohandas Gandhi in his resistance against British colonial power in India. Others who have taken this path of non-violence are Martin Luther King, Jr. against racism and segregation in our country and Archbishop Desmond Tutu against apartheid in South Africa.

But this gospel is not just for famous leaders of non-violent, peaceful protest movements. This gospel confronts us who are sitting here today to consider how we respond to the teaching of Jesus to love our enemies.  It confronts us about our trust in the validity of non-violent resistance or in Boulton's words “creative non-resistance to the evildoer.”  The question for us, I think, is do we believe that Jesus knows what he is talking about? 

In order to ponder about what Jesus means when he asks us to love our enemies, I want to offer two meditations on this gospel.  The first is by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German Lutheran pastor, who resisted the Nazis without violence until he became convinced that Hitler had to be stopped no matter the cost. He was executed by the Nazis for participating in a plot to kill Hitler.  The second is by Katherine Jefferts Schori, our presiding bishop.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote: “How then does love conquer?  By asking not how the enemy treats love but only how Jesus treated it.  The love of our enemies takes us along the way of the cross into the community with the crucified. The more we are driven along this road, the more certain is the victory of love over the enemy's hatred. For then it is not the disciple's love alone, but the love of Jesus Christ alone, who for the sake of his enemies went to the cross and prayed for them as he hung there. In the face of the cross the disciples realized that they too were his enemies and that he had overcome them by his love.  It is this that opens the disciples’ eyes and enables them to see their enemy as a brother or sister. They know that they owe their very life to the One who, though he was their enemy, accepted them, who made them his neighbors, and drew them into community with himself.  The disciples can now perceive that even their enemies are the object of God's love, and that they stand like themselves beneath the cross of Christ.”

Was Bonhoeffer correct in saying that the disciples as sinful people were enemies of Christ?  (Of course, that means that we are as well.) Was he right in asserting that only because Jesus Christ loved us and died for us, despite our sinful natures, we are enabled to see our enemies as Christ sees them?  And to love them?

In 2007 our Presiding Bishop Katharine received an invitation from the Anglican archbishop of Korea to address a gathering in Korea of Anglican from all over the globe about peace-making, an continuing issue for that divided country.  Part of her talk addressed our gospel this morning:  “The human ability to make war has mostly to do with fear.  People and their leaders live in fear of their neighbors or what they may do . . . Living in fear only degrades life, for it leads inexonerably to violence.  Living in fear denies the fundamental hope we share, for it condemns us to remain in the grave of the past.  Christians are not meant to live in fear.  We are born anew in hope for a dream we expect to become reality.  That great dream of God is for a restored and reconciled reality.  We make peace now so that God's cosmic dream may be made real.  Jesus says, 'Love your enemy' now, in the present, so that we might 'be perfect as God is perfect.'  That perfection is a becoming . . . luring us on toward the vision of all creation existing in the full presence and perfection of God . . . Loving our enemies means insisting that there is abundance for all in God's great dream of a restored creation.”

Is it realistic to act now for peace in the context of our Christian hope that Christ's coming again will make all things new and all things perfected in God's love?

So here are two views of both why and how we should follow Jesus' teaching to love our enemies—one in the context of Christ's willing sacrifice in love on the cross, the other in the context of our Christian hope in the reign of God, both now and yet to come.  Where are we, each one of us?  What does each of us truly believe about Jesus' command to love and to pray for our enemies?  Where is our head, and where is our heart?

References:

Matthew Myer Boulton quote:  Feasting on the Word, Year A, Vol. 1, p. 385

Dietrich Bonhoeffer quote:  A Year With Dietrich Bonhoeffer, March 19, p. 85

Katharine Jefferts Schori quote: Gospel in the Global Village, p. 75

The 6th Sunday after Epiphany - Hard Teachings and God's Grace

“You have heard it was said to those in ancient times . . .But I say to you . . .” Matthew uses this linguistic pattern as he continues to recount Jesus' teaching his disciples in the Sermon on the Mount.  It is a powerful way to teach, especially because he is not contrasting his teaching with that of another rabbi.  He is contrasting his teaching with the Torah, the Law of God, or long standing traditions based on the Law. Last Sunday in the section of the Sermon on the Mount just before this one, Jesus makes the context of his teaching clear:  “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill.” He also said, “ . . . unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and the Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

These two statements provide clues about what Jesus as rabbi or teacher tried to accomplish in explaining what he expected of those who followed him. Jesus' teaching we heard from Matthew indicates that he set the standard for his disciples' behavior quite high. Two questions should interest us, particularly because some of his teaching appears quite outrageous—tearing out your eye and cutting off your hand to prevent you from sinning. The two questions are these: First, what in the world was Jesus doing here?  And, second, why did he do it?  Answers to the first question help us interpret a rather upsetting scripture passage.  Answers to the second can help us figure out how this teaching could hold meaning for us today.

Amy-Jill Levine, professor of New Testament at Vanderbilt Divinity School, says Jesus was “building a fence around the Torah,” something rabbis regularly did.  Because violating the Torah meant violating the covenant God made with Moses, rabbis would discuss how to avoid such a serious transgression.  Defining, for example, what “killing” truly meant, rabbis helped the Jews more completely and carefully keep the commandment, “Thou shalt not kill [or murder].”

In the passage we heard this morning Jesus takes a commandment or tradition and “radicalizes” it.  “Radicalizing” in this sense means getting to the root of the commandment or tradition.  What is the intent of the commandment?  And what should the intent be of the person keeping it?  After radicalizing it, Jesus creates examples of situations that may face his disciples—both then and now.

In the first teaching Jesus equates getting angry at someone or insulting them with murder.  When you murder, you are destroying another human being.  According to Jesus' teaching, anger and insults lie at the root of wanting to destroy another human being.  If in your anger you intend to hurt someone, that intention violates the commandment not to murder.  The fourth chapter of Ephesians addresses this concern with the teaching, “Be angry but do not sin . . .”   Finally, come the examples: “ . . .leave your gift before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift . . . Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him.”

After the teaching on murder and anger, Jesus taught with the same three-fold pattern on adultery, divorce, and oath-taking. First, the commandment or tradition was named; then it was radicalized; finally, examples were given.  Despite the fact that some of Jesus' examples are a bit over the top and despite the fact that much his teaching seemed designed to make the listener uncomfortable, after hearing or reading this gospel passage, all of us should be able to leave church this morning with a clear list of “I shalt nots.”

The question then becomes why did Jesus teach this way?  Did Jesus intend to create uncomfortable, anxious people trying not to offend God?  I would not be standing here trying to preach the gospel if I believed that were true. Neither do I believe the passage we heard this morning should be ignored, just because Jesus was using outrageous examples of self-harm and suggesting that things the first century Jews—and we—consider “normal” were indeed offensive to God.

What Jesus intended, I believe, was to move the disciples a bit off center—to move them away from a sense of certainty about what is right in God's eyes and what is not.  A person's intentions made a difference.  Righteous-appearing behavior would be hypocritical, if the good of the other person was ignored.  Jesus wanted us fully to understand God’s covenant with us based on self-giving love.  First, God loved us.  Then, God hoped that we would love God in return and love our neighbors as ourselves.

This morning we heard about a covenant in Moses' farewell address from Deuteronomy.  In it Moses describes the covenant God offers God's people: “I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses.  Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him . . .”

But often, in this covenant relationship with God, keeping our part becomes so, so difficult.  Sometimes we do get angry and sin.  We badly treat those we have promised to love, wondering why they are not meeting our needs and if we'd be better off without them or with someone else.  All too readily, we break our promises, even those we have made to God.  For what then can we hope?  We cannot merit the covenant blessings God promises.

But thank God, we do not have to earn God's love and God's blessing. As the disciples probably did that day on the mountaintop, we need to lose our certainty. We do not need to have it all figured out.  We do not need to be perfect.  Because God came to live among us in Jesus, our hope rests not on certainty, but on our faith in Jesus.  As St. Paul said in his letter to the Romans, “But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners, Jesus died for us.”  Let us live then, as best we can, loving God and loving our neighbor, as best we can—yet depending at all times and in all situations on God's gracious love for us.  Thanks be for God’s grace!

The 5th Sunday after Epiphany - Saltiness and Righteousness

Jesus said to his disciples, “You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored?  It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.”

Our modern ears here this with something of an attitude: “O. K., that was then, this is now.” We have been told as recently as last week that dietary guidelines for keeping ourselves healthy mean eating less salt than ever, especially hidden salt in prepared foods.  Complimenting someone as being the “salt of the earth” may be an expression whose time has passed.

We know, of course, that salt was and is an important preservative, used from ancient times to keep meat from going rancid.  It even became valuable as a tool to finance the French monarchy. In the 18^th century the hated salt tax in France was one of the causes of the French Revolution. The sale of salt was controlled by the government of the king, who obliged every individual above the age of eight years to purchase weekly a minimum amount of salt at a fixed price.  I wonder how they enforced that?

But there is another way to view the importance of salt from the Hebrew Scriptures that can give us a deeper perspective on what Jesus was teaching.  I'm not talking about Lot's wife being turned into a pillar of salt when she disregarded the command of the Lord's messengers and looked back at the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.  What I am referring to comes from chapter eighteen of the book of Numbers. This passage recounts the Lord's instructions to Aaron, Moses' brother and the Israelites' religious leader, on how he should deal with holy offering.  The passage begins with this divine instruction:  “I have given you charge of the offerings [both produce and animals] made to me, all the holy gifts of the Israelites; I have given them to you and your sons as a priestly portion due in perpetuity.”  Then we come to the part about salt, which extends the use of the offerings to Aaron's daughters as well.  The use of these offerings to the Lord “is a covenant of salt forever before the Lord for you and your descendants as well.”  Before you think it unfair that only Aaron and his descendants get all these offerings, remember that they got no land as part of the covenant between the Lord and the Israelites.

So salt became a symbol of this covenant—was it a covenant to be preserved forever?  Perhaps, but there is even more. In the second chapter of the book of Leviticus this statement concerning offerings to the Lord appears:  “You shall not omit from your grain offerings the salt of the covenant with your God; with all your offerings, you shall offer salt.”  I don't think Jesus' teaching reported by Matthew about the reign of God in the Beatitudes just precedes the salt-of-the earth teaching by chance.  Nor, just by chance, does his teaching about not changing even a small part of the Law follows the salt-of-the-earth teaching.

In the Beatitudes Jesus taught about the gifts to humanity when God's righteousness reigns over all the earth.  Now he moves to what our response should be.  To paraphrase and expand his teaching a bit: you, my disciples, are the salt of the earth.  Remember that salt was to be included in the offerings presented to the Lord.  Remember the salt is a sign of the covenant God made with God's people. You, yourselves, are now that offering.  You are now a sign of the covenant.  Live in a way that is worthy of God's choosing and God’s blessing God's people.

Jesus taught the disciples about the Law’s importance in guiding their intentions as well as their actions. He wanted the disciples to understand how important their responses were to God's gifts, God's blessing.  As the Hebrew prophets and later the rabbis have interpreted the guidance of the Torah, the Law, to be meaningful in their times, Jesus did as well.  The gospel of Matthew, written to those who believed the end of the world was near, reported Jesus as saying our intentions and our actions should grow out of a critically important right relationship with the Lord.  Our righteousness in response to God's righteousness toward us, you might say.

Jesus was saying, I think, that our righteousness needs to be expressed in a deeper way than keeping the rules.  Righteousness expressed, perhaps, in the sense of the prophet Micah's words we heard a few weeks ago:  “What does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God?”  Righteousness in the sense of the prophet Isaiah's words we heard this morning: “Is not this the fast [following the Law] that I [God] choose: to loose the bonds of injustice . . . to let the oppressed go free . . . to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house . . . [and] when you see the naked, to cover them . . .”

This is the saltiness that Jesus called his disciples to, and calls us to, as well—the saltiness of offering ourselves, our intentions, our actions to the Lord.  So each day, the people with whom we live and work and worship can “taste” the love of God, the righteousness of God, through us—as Psalm 34 suggests, “O, taste and see that the Lord is good.”  Yes, through our saltiness, we can lead others to know God's goodness.