Sunday, February 23, 2014

The Irrational Demands of Love

This picture was taken in November in Belfast, Northern Ireland.
February 23, 2014
Matthew 5:38-48
38“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ 39But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; 40and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; 41and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. 42Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.
43“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. 46For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? 47And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? 48Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”


Sermon:

I didn’t really even plan to be there that day.  It’s just, well, that curiosity that got the better of me.  You see I’d heard about this strange Rabbi Jesus.  I heard that everywhere he went, from Galilee to the Decapolis to Jerusalem, healing went with him.  The sick were set free of their illness.  The lame walked.  The blind saw. 

And all the while, he preached about one thing, over and over again: the kingdom of God.  This kingdom didn’t sound like any kingdom I’d ever heard of: one of freedom for the oppressed, release for the captives and God’s favor raining down on all.  So, like I said, curiosity got the better of me.  When I heard he was coming to town, I went.

And at first, I really liked the guy.  He seemed to emanate a compassion that I’d never quite seen before, and genuinely loved people.  And I don’t mean just the wealthy or powerful people, his words made me, a poor merchant, feel loved.  When he said, “blessed are the poor in spirit, for yours is the kingdom of heaven,” I felt thrilled.  I wanted to print that on a sticker and put it on my camel.  What an amazing concept!

“Blessed are you when people persecute you,” he said, and I thought of all those times people with money had looked right through me like I didn’t even exist.  “Wow,” I thought.  “This guy actually gets the real world.  I’m liking the sound of this new kind of kingdom.”

Now, I have to be honest here, y’all.  It was hot.  And even the most compelling of preachers starts to put you to sleep after a while.  So, I kind of snoozed there for a bit during the middle of his sermon.  I heard him say something about salt and light, but I really can’t remember much about it.

But then this seemingly golden-tongued preacher changed his tune.  I know this because I got woken up, not by murmurs of agreement and affirmation from the crowd around me, but by grumbling.  People started talking angrily to each other about him, and a few bold folks even booed.  That woke me up.  What was he saying now that could possibly make everyone turn on him so quickly?

“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’  But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire.”

Ah, yes.  That’ll do it.  But it’s almost as if he was intent on making people angry, because he kept talking, saying irrational things like,

 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart.  If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.  And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell.”

Wait a minute.  Is this the same guy who was so kindly doling out blessings earlier?  Where is all this sin and hell talk coming from?  Why was he taking the law of God SO far?

But before I knew it, he was digging himself deeper and deeper with that phrase again, “You have heard it said….but I say to you…”

"You have heard it said an eye for an eye, but I say don’t resist anyone with violence, even an evildoer.  If someone hits you, turn the other cheek.  If they sue you for your coat, give them your cloak as well."

"You have heard it said love your neighbor and hate your enemy, but I say to you love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."

Hold on.  I liked this guy when he said “Blessed are you who are persecuted, for yours is the kingdom of heaven.”  But now he’s telling me to pray for the scumbags who persecute me?

Why in the world would I do that? 

I do realize, y’all, that these words were said a very long time ago for you.  So, perhaps you need a more relevant example to grasp just how shocking his words were to us that day.

It would be like him saying to you,

“Adopt a national security policy of allowing terrorists and enemies of your country free reign.  Don’t fight back, ever.”

“If your neighbor sues you with some wildly trumped up charges, pay their legal fees as well as your own.  Also, for good measure, bake them an apple pie.”

“Pray for Al Qaida as often as you pray for your children and grandchildren, maybe even more.”

Are you angry yet?  See what I mean? 

And then, just when we were all looking at each other saying, “Who is this guy?” he finished his words with this:

“Do this so that you are children of your Father in heaven, who makes the sun shine equally on everyone.  If you only love your own, what good is that?  That’s easy.  If you only greet your family, what good is that?  That’s easy.  God expects more from you: be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

Oh, okay, be perfect.  Well, why didn’t he just say that?  Perfection: easy!  That’s not an irrational request at all! 

Napping at this point in his sermon was not an option: the crowd was in an uproar.  Those who weren’t laughing at him were shouting at him.  Messiah?  Please.  This guy was a joke.

But then I noticed something.  He didn’t look angry.  He didn’t raise his voice to be heard above the heckling.  He just calmly kept preaching, like his life depended on it, and somehow I got the strange feeling that it did.

I realized in that moment a profound difference between this guy and all of the other Rabbis I’d ever run across: love.  Now, I’m not saying Rabbis aren’t generally loving, but this Jesus guy, his every single word, even those irrational ones that made us really angry, was said with love.  It was the undercurrent of it all: that we were beloved children of God, and so was everyone else.  And like any parent, God wanted us to be the best version of ourselves we could be, and maybe even better than that: to strive for perfection.

Think about it: what parent would say to their child, when they brought home a good report card, “Straight a’s, okay, but really a d is just fine.”

Or who would say to a child fighting with their best friend, “you can make up with your friend, but honestly life is just a series of disappointing relationships, so you may as well move on.”
Or who would ask their child to clean their room, but then add the caveat, “But, just so you know, I don’t expect much of you, so just sweep it all under the bed and that’ll do.”

Parents generally expect more of us than we expect of ourselves.  So does God.  I think this is what that controversial preacher Jesus was getting at.  If we think we know the commandments of God completely, and that we’ve reached a legalistic place of perfection, he has news for us, and we’re not gonna like it.  God wants more – so much more – of us.  God wants us to strive for perfect love, because the One who made us knows we are capable of more than we ever give ourselves (or others) credit for.

It is irrational and impossible, this sort of love.  But how much better it is to live our lives striving for the impossible and irrational instead of settling for the simple and safe?

Now, this doesn’t make Jesus’ words any easier to swallow.  I still had a queasy feeling in my stomach listening to him that day.  But when everyone else in the crowd began drawing battle lines (as we always do when we disagree with someone), all I saw was that such high demands on us were because he loved us so much, and wanted what was best, not just for us, but for every single child of God.

What a weight to carry around, that sort of irrational love for everyone.  It must have been exhausting for him, especially when people turned on him so quickly.  I’ll never forget that man, who I have a feeling was even more than that.

I wish I could tell you that his sermon turned my life around.  I wish I could say that his words turned me from bitter into forgiving and selfish to giving.  Truth is, I went about my life much the same as it was before, and it was more hard than easy. 

But there were moments, just fleeting moments, like when I felt anger rise within me at someone, when I saw people turn on each other without even thinking twice, that I remembered his words.  And sometimes, when I was perhaps being closer to the perfection he wished for me, those words gave me pause.  They made me look behind my anger at someone to see the actual person in front of me, with all of their struggles and pressures and disappointments. 

They made me look behind the mob mentality of us-versus-them and see that both sides, everyone, was terrified of so very much, and felt loved so very little.

So maybe his words can do more for you than they did for me, though they did do a little.  Maybe today is different than my day: maybe people don’t sue each other for no reason anymore.  Maybe people don’t teach their children to fight back first and talk later.  Maybe people aren’t so afraid of the poor, making up reasons they deserve their plight, so they don’t have to help them.  Maybe there aren’t enemies anymore.  Maybe people don’t use their religion to only pray for God to be on “their side.”

Then again….maybe some things never really change.  So maybe you still need his words as much as we did, though we didn’t particularly want to hear them.


And maybe you need to be reminded that you are a child of God, and so is whoever you understand to be your enemy, and that changes things.  The love God has for us is irrationally demanding, but so is sending your Son to preach to a bunch of angry, set-in-their-ways people, heal them when they hate you, pray for them when they misunderstand you, die for them when they kill you, and rise again for them when they so quickly forget you.  There never was anything rational about this sort of love – and I hope there never is.  Amen.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

A Choice Only God Could Make

Father Xavier Fagba welcoming Muslims fleeing violence to his church in the Central African Republic.  Full story and image source here

Deuteronomy 30:15-20

See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity.  If you obey the commandments of the Lord your God that I am commanding you today, by loving the Lord your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, then you shall live and become numerous, and the Lord your God will bless you in he land that you are entering to possess.  But if your heart turns away and you do not hear, but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, I declare to you today that you shall perish; you shall not live long in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess.  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; for that means life to you and length of days, so that you may live in the land that the Lord swore to give your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob. 


Sermon: “A Choice Only God Could Make”

Choices matter.  We all want to feel we have a choice.  I was raised with lots of choices, but my parents were very particular about what those options were:

“Do you want to eat your broccoli or peas first?”
“Would you rather do your homework or help with chores?”

One particular choice set before me is forever burned into my memory.  I had made the foolish choice to pretend I was sick and needed to come home from school.  I dreamed of a day in my pajamas watching movies.  What I got was somewhat different. 

You see, my mother is a smart cookie.  So, when I complained of completely undiagnosable stomach pains and said I needed to go home, she did take me home.  And then she put me straight in bed.

Well, there’s only so much staring at a ceiling an eleven-year-old can put up with.  After what felt like hours (and what was probably only 30 minutes), I put on my most pathetic face.  I gripped my invisibly aching stomach and shuffled outside to where my mother was watering plants.

“Mom?” I said, weakly. “Yes?” she said, an eyebrow already starting to raise.  “I feel a little bit better.  Can I watch some t.v.?” I asked eagerly.

Her reply was swift (and decisive). “If you feel well enough to watch t.v., you feel well enough to go back to school!  You may either go back to sleep or clean out your closet!”

Those were my choices.  And I really didn’t like either very much.

Our reading from Deuteronomy this morning is all about choices: about choosing to follow the commandments of God, and thus choose life, or choosing to follow other gods, and choose death.

Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you and length of days.

Or, if your heart turns away and you do not hear, but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, I declare to you today that you shall perish; you shall not live long in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess. 

Life or death, blessings or curses.  The choice seems obvious, right?

Why would you choose the path of ignoring God’s commandments, of following lesser gods and turning your heart away from the One who made it?  Simply choose life.

Turn your heart to God.  Follow the commandments like a to-do list of how to be faithful, do all those things that everyone knows are Christian (and make sure everyone knows you’re doing them).  Go to church.  Listen to your preacher lady.  Pray at night, and maybe even, during the day, too.  Read your Bible.  Give to those in need.  Choose life.  Easy, right?

Well, no.  The thing is, we’re not wired that way.  For some reason, God decided to make us with free will, meaning we have the choice to not choose God.  Why would God do this?

Is this because God doesn’t want us to be mindless puppets, but instead complicated creatures that choose our Creator of our own free will?  I think it must be deeper than this.  God chose to give us a choice, and this was a sacrifice on God’s part.  More than God not wanting puppets, the power to choose is woven into our very being.

We see it at the beginning of things, in Genesis.  God chose to create us – female and male – in God’s image and then God presented us with a choice:  an abundance of creation, more to eat and drink than could ever be needed.  But one tree, just one, the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, that was forbidden.  “Eat anything y’all like,” God said.  “Just not from that tree over yonder.”

And with those words, God gave us a choice.  And like a toddler reaching for that forbidden cookie, like an adult indulging in gossip we know is bad for us, we chose, wrongly.  We chose not the path of life, but the path of death.  The path of our own destruction.  As God probably always knew we would.

And we proved something essential to ourselves and to God in that moment, something we’ve been proving ever since.  We do not choose what’s good for us, or good for others, or good for the earth.  Our impulse is to choose the way of death, not life.

It’s why we choose to fill our schedules to the point of bursting even when we know we can’t possibly have enough energy to do all they demand.  It’s why we choose to indulge in food that we know is no good for us, choosing also to ignore the consequences.  It’s why we choose to perpetuate the same cycles throughout history of suspicion, greed, hatred and violence.  It’s even why we choose to make our faith watered down into a list of do’s and don’t’s and not an abiding relationship with God and our neighbor.  Given the choice, we will always choose the lesser path.  We call this sin.

But the good news (and there has to be good news, doesn’t there?) is this:

God knows this about us.  And God will always stir within us the choice for life.  When we don’t choose to be fully alive, but instead choose to be fully occupied, busy, worried and incomplete, when our natural inclination like in the garden is to choose destruction, God has a choice too.  And God’s natural inclination is to both allow us that choice and, at the same time, open within us a better option: life.

God’s Spirit stirs within us the potential to choose a path we could never choose for ourselves.  We call this grace.  While we have the natural tendency to choose destruction, God refuses to leave us that way.  God fills us with a holy desire to choose faithfulness, reconciliation, peace and home.  This is evident in our world, too.

God’s Spirit has stirred very divided people in the Central African Republic to choose life.  The village of Boali is one of countless sites of violence between Muslims and Christians.  The cycle of revenge seems endless as mosques are burned and Muslims are killed in the streets simply because they are, and then churches are burned and Christians are killed in the streets simply because they are.  The choice of death, over and over and over again.

But God’s Spirit has stirred Father Xavier Fagba to choose life instead.  In his small, shabby church, St. Peter’s Parish, he has welcomed over 650 Muslims to take refuge.  After their mosques were burned, he opened his doors to them, even to ones who had taken part in violent actions against Christians in the past, saying, “"I've spoken to those who have done bad things. But I have not mentioned their deeds. When I talk to them it's a call for them to change their lives and their behavior."  In loving them, he gives them the choice to love.
His church is under attack each night, not by Muslims, but by fellow Christians seeking to destroy everyone inside, even those who share their faith.  But still, Father Fagba stands his ground and risks all to choose peace.  "The Muslims discovered in our church that the God we worship is the same as their God," said Father Fagba.  “And that's the vision the whole of this country needs to have.  We should consider them as our brothers. What happens here gives me a certain conviction."
Father Fagba’s choice of forgiveness is a choice no human being could make.  It is a choice only God could give him the strength to make.  And every day he cares for refugees, every night his church is peppered with bullets, he makes that choice of life, again and again and again.
We do not have it within ourselves to choose the path of life.   Only God can give us the courage to choose life.  But the God who wired us with free will also wired us with a soul that longs for life, not death, peace, not destruction, home, not wandering.  And so our soul desperately reaches out to the God who has already chosen us.  God chose to make us that way.
Choices matter.  And when we boil them all down to the choice to forgive or cling to past hurts, to speak with honesty or spread falsehood, to trust God or do things the way we’ve always done them, every choice we make is a choice for life, or for death.  We cannot choose the path of life on our own.  But with the stirring of God’s Spirit within us, and the community of one other beside us, God can make that choice for us, and we can then choose to follow where God leads with courage.
Powerful things happen when God chooses life in us.  People are changed.  Communities are transformed. Churches become refuges of hope and light.  And everyone, everyone, is blessed.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Seasoned and Shining

February 9, 2014
Matthew 5:13-20
13“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.
14“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. 15No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. 16In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.
17“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. 18For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. 19Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”


Sermon:  “Seasoned and Shining”

What does it mean to be God’s people if we suffer?

What is the relationship between the church and the State?

How are we to respond to violence and oppression?

How are we to be “in the world, but not of it?” in the face of an ever-changing society?

How can we find unity when we have different political beliefs and interpretations of scripture?

These might be the most profound questions facing the church today.  But we are not the first to ask them. 

These were the very questions being asked by the people of Israel at the time that Jesus preached this sermon from Matthew.  Jesus was not simply waxing poetic like a sea salt loving foodie or flashlight salesman.  These words were a direct response to the controversies and challenges facing the people of Israel in his time.  So, in order to hear them at a deeper level, we must explore the world into which they were spoken.

The people of Israel, Jesus’ own people, were deeply divided.  Their land was occupied by the Roman Empire and there was fierce debate over how to respond to that reality.  What did it mean to be God’s covenant people if they were politically and culturally oppressed?  Was God still faithful?  Did the covenant still hold?  And what should we do about this occupation?

The Zealots decided might could only be fought with might, and so a violent overthrow was the only way to go.  The Sadducees were more tempered and strategic, in their approach: they thought the solution was to become very cozy with the enemy, so that at least they would be protected.  The Pharisees were divided in their approach.  Some thought that the Zealots were right and wanted to raise up arms.  The others decided that occupation was inevitable, and so their focus should not be fighting it, but rather preserving the purity of their culture and religion.  They withdrew to the ghetto and kept separate from society.  Others among them studied the Torah even deeper, looking for both an escape from their reality and the promise of restoration there.

Now, many preachers would perhaps decide which approach seemed most faithful and raise it up above the others as the way God wanted them to live.  And even more preachers would point out the merit in all approaches, making everyone feel warm and fuzzy when they left to go beat the Baptists to lunch.

But not Jesus.  Jesus called them all out, showed the hollowness of all of their approaches.  In short, he made everyone mad.  To the Zealots he said pray for your enemies and turn the other cheek.  To the Sadducees he said you cannot serve God and wealth.  To the Pharisees he said that unless a person was more righteous than the scribes and Pharisees, they would never enter the kingdom of heaven.  You can already hear the Presbytery being called in because of a furious congregation…

He also spoke of the law, making it clear that he was not abolishing the law, but fulfilling it – taking those covenant demands of God and putting flesh on them, so that people could no longer twist them to endorse the hatred of others or ignore them entirely as antiquated and empty words.

He challenged them all to see that their understanding of God’s law was incomplete.  It never meant rising up with violence against their enemies.  It never meant withdrawing from the world to preserve some self-righteous understanding of purity and holiness.  It never meant finding a hidden meaning in scripture so that you could lord it over others.  It never meant using your faith as a political pawn to get more power.  It never meant being divided from your brothers and sisters.

The law was always meant to be a guide for being salt and light in the world.

Returning to those difficult questions
What does it mean to be God’s people if we suffer?
It means that we trust that light is best seen in darkness, and so we do not run away from darkness in our lives and in the world.  Instead, we enter into places of suffering, not as martyrs, but as light-bringers, trusting that God’s light is already shining there, if only we will look through the darkness and see it.

What is the relationship between the church and the State?
Hmm, a tough one, this.  It means that our faith cannot ever be divorced from politics.  But, rather than allowing politics of us-and-them, of right-wing and left-wing agendas to co-opt our faith, we instead let our faith transform the divisive political climate we find ourselves in.  We do not need the State to validate our faith for it to be real.  I’ll say that again, we do not need the state to validate our faith for it to be real.  If we only spend our energy as Christians trying to get the State to approve and support our faith, we wind up being like the Sadducees trying to understand faith only through the State.  Instead, we are called to be salt that seasons every area of society and the world with love and justice.  And we are called to stand where Jesus stood, until the compassion and unity of the church rubs off onto the State.  When the church just looks like the State, with the same political divisiveness and maneuvering, we can be sure we have lost our saltiness.

How are we to respond to violence and oppression?
Here we are guided back to the law of God fulfilled through Christ.  Do not kill, it is painfully plain.  Now, I know that there are times in society when violent action is deemed necessary.  This is a reality of our world.  But the church should never be the voice calling for such action.  To be that would be to be like the Zealots of Jesus’ day.  Instead, we call for liberation through loving our enemies and praying for those who persecute.  We choose to love, even when that seems like an impossible choice.  And this, of course, includes loving those who choose a different path.

How are we to be “in the world, but not of it?” in the face of an ever-changing society?
Jesus came that the law of God might be made flesh-and-blood, not destroyed, but fulfilled in the commandments to love God and neighbor.  We are not called to withdraw like some Pharisees into isolated communities of self-righteousness.  We are not to use purity as an excuse to separate ourselves from those who make us uncomfortable.  Jesus says we are the light of the world.  We are to shine with the radiance of Christ, until the darkness of isolation and individualism flees before the light of a relevant and compassionate community of believers.

How can we find unity when we have different political beliefs and interpretations of scripture?
This was perhaps the most important question for the people of Israel in Jesus’ time and it might just be the most important question for the church in our day.  Some say that unity is impossible, and we should splinter and fracture, because what divides us is greater than what unites us. 

Others say that unity can only come when we agree with each other and arrive at a place of homogeneity politically and theologically, which of course isn’t unity but uniformity.  Jesus said differently.  When he said, “YOU are the salt of the earth, YOU are the light of the world”, Jesus was speakin’ Southern, y’all!  He wasn’t saying you, as in just you Sadducees or you Zealots or you Pharisees.  What was he saying?

Y’all.  Y’all are the light of the world.  All y’all are the salt of the earth.  Together.  Though you have very different understandings of what the law of God means and how you should be in relationship with society, it really comes down to this: be salt. Season every single word and action with the love of Christ.  Use every opportunity to bring light to those in the darkness of loneliness, illness or injustice.  And guess what?  You don’t have to adopt a statement on your position on hot button issues of the day to do that.  You don’t have to hate those who think or vote differently than you to do that. 

When we let the division of the State to permeate the Church and immobilize us from being salt and light, we are not just losing our relevance in the world.  We are going against the law of God to love God and neighbor.  We are breaking God’s covenant with us.

So, all of Jesus’ salt and light talk isn’t just Metaphor Day in his Sermon Series.  It is our highest calling as his followers, the proof for whether our faith is simply a political tool or empty words, or something that moves us to courageous action. 

We are only the salt of the earth together.  We are only the light of the world together.  The earth is only seasoned with the love of Christ when we stand with each other and stand up for those who are least in the kingdoms of this world, and greatest in the kingdom of heaven.  The world is only lit with the love of Christ when we do not keep that light to ourselves, but instead let it transform the darkness of division and hatred. 


Seasoned and shining, this world stops looking like the kingdoms of us-and-them, of the powerful and powerless, and instead starts looking more and more like the kingdom Jesus announced, a kingdom of unity and peace, that relentlessly comes, even now.  Amen.