Monday, February 17, 2020

Sermon: More than the bare minimum (Feb. 16, 2020)


Epiphany 6A
February 16, 2020
Matthew 5:21-37, Deuteronomy 30

INTRODUCTION
         In this third and final week of hearing from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, we will hear the most difficult part yet. The Beatitudes we started with were so nice, with all the blessing they held. Last week we were assured that we already are salt and light, and God’s blessed and beloved children. Today? Today’s text is sure to include some trigger for everyone here, and with extreme consequences to go with it – teachings on anger, and holding grudges, and divorce, and adultery, and lust, and lying. Anyone here ever experience any of those, maybe once or twice? Yeah, me too. Get ready to squirm.
         But these teachings, though they seem on the surface to offer all judgment and no hope, require a deeper look – one that is contextual, and one that keeps in mind that always and forever, ours is a God of life. In fact, I like to read all these laws through the lens of Moses’ exhortation in Deuteronomy today: “Choose life!”  
A little bit about Moses: after all that he had done to lead the Israelites through the wilderness for forty years and to the edge of the Promised Land, God told him he would not get to enter that land. Bummer, right? He would die and be buried just outside of it. The entire book of Deuteronomy, then, is Moses’ farewell speech. In it, he reminds them of who God is, who they are, and of the covenant God has made with them. What we’ll hear today is the culmination of that speech, including that most important lens for understanding God’s law: “Choose life, so that you and your descendants may live.”
         Hold that phrase, “choose life,” as you listen today. What do you hear in these texts that brings life, or could? What in your life the other six days of the week causes you to experience life, as opposed to death and despair? Let’s listen.
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Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
         Last week, news broke that an Ohio pastor had plans to sue the NFL. The reason? He believed that the halftime show had imperiled his immortal soul, and put at risk his entry into the kingdom of heaven, due, I presume, to the lustful feelings he had watching what was admittedly pretty evocative dancing. His soul, he determined, was worth $867 trillion, which is what he was hoping to get in a settlement.
         He must take very seriously what Jesus says today about lust. “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.” Indeed, if we are to take this literally, this preacher is absolutely right! Unless he’s willing to cut out his eye, his soul is in immortal danger, and that’s worth at the very least $867 trillion!
         Of course, to believe that is to discount the power of grace, so it’s rather unfortunate that this guy is a preacher and doesn’t give grace its due power. Still, it can be hard not to read texts like today’s from Jesus’ teachings and not feel incredibly uneasy. Nearly everyone is affected by divorce, for instance, either in your own family or in that of a close friend. Nearly every one of us has experienced lust. Every one of us has felt anger, maybe even held a grudge or found it difficult if not impossible to forgive someone. Every one of us has misrepresented the truth at some point. And further, we may not have even thought of those feelings and experiences as bad at the time, or even now – we may have found them to be needful, or fun, or satisfying. But, if we took all of what Jesus says here literally, we would have a whole lot of one-eyed, one-handed people in prison… who would probably still be sinning, because we are captive to sin and unable to free ourselves no matter how we may try, and cutting out your eyes and hands won’t change that! And, I really doubt that this is even what our God of life envisions for us, God’s beloved creation.
         So… if we are not to take these tough commands literally, do we just toss them out entirely? I mean, isn’t it a slippery slope to start deciding what commands to follow and which to take with a grain of salt? Well, yes and no. It’s more complicated than that. So first, a language note: in his sermon, Jesus utilizes a literary device known as hyperbole. Just like we might say, “I’m starving to death,” when really, we’re only an hour past lunchtime, Jesus is using this device to get his point across more strongly. (Yes, people in first century Palestine, even the Son of God himself, sometimes exaggerated, too!)
         Second, an interpretive, historical-critical note: the issues Jesus is addressing here were very serious ones in the first century – like they are today, but in a very different way from how we experience them. Take divorce, for instance: In 1st century Palestine, a man could divorce a woman for any reason at all, from unfaithfulness to burning his morning toast. As you can imagine, this put women in a pretty vulnerable position, socially and financially, because her main support could drop her at any time. So, Jesus is urging faithfulness in relationships, faithfulness and devotion to one another. Today, a divorced woman is not in such a vulnerable position – in fact in some cases, she may be in a more vulnerable position if she stays in a broken marriage – so while Jesus’ main point about faithfulness in relationships is still applicable, because God wants us to take care of one another, the situation to which he is speaking is quite different. What I’m trying to get across here is that while we should still take Jesus’ words here seriously, we must also remember that the particular power structures and social norms he was speaking to are considerably different from today.
         So with all that in mind: what can we take from this list of laws that seem to paint God as judgmental and transactional? As I mentioned in my introduction today, this whole section can and should be read through the lens of Moses’ closing words of his farewell speech: “Choose life, so that you and your descendants may live.” That is, Jesus is painting us a picture of what it looks like to live as God’s blessed and beloved community, a vision of a community that embodies the life that God so dearly wants for us. He does this in a couple of ways.
         First, Jesus urges some personal accountability for us. I think our tendency is often, when we make a mistake, to quickly look for anything else we can blame it on. “I wouldn’t have broken this dish if you had just put it away like I asked!” or, “I forgot that meeting because I didn’t sleep well last night.” But Jesus does not say, “If your eye causes you to sin, tell that woman to dress more modestly, or sue the NFL!” No, he says, “If your eye causes you to sin, turn off the TV! Take some responsibility. Repent that you just viewed another beloved child as God as an object there for your pleasure. Treat that person with dignity, seek reconciliation, ask forgiveness where it is needed, make some changes where you have to, and do what is required to restore the relationships God has entrusted to you.”
Woosh, it would be a lot easier to just cut out the eye, right? All that repenting, and self-reflection, and asking forgiveness, and reconciling, is hard work. But that’s the other move that Jesus is making here. He is calling this beloved community to do more than the bare minimum required of civil society. So yes, it is great that you are not literally committing homicide. But we all know that it takes more than that to cultivate a life-giving community. There are many other ways to “kill” relationships: resentment, rage, spite, and contempt, for instance. Treating people as less than human, as we talked a bit about last week, attacking their humanity instead of criticizing their actions. We refuse forgiveness, preferring to hold grudges indeterminately, because after all, we are in the right here, and they should definitely make the first move. Any of that sound familiar?
So here Jesus calls us to something more than the bare minimum:
Jesus is not only calling us not to kill, but also, to bring about life in our communities: by seeking reconciliation, and listening to understand and not just to respond, and doing some self-work to see where we, too, can grow closer to God in our relationships.
Jesus is not only calling us to not sleep with each other’s wives, but to honor each other’s human dignity by refusing in any way to cheapen or objectify other people for our own pleasure, and encouraging each other in our most intimate relationships, and to take seriously our responsibility toward living that is faithful, abundant, and life-giving.
Jesus is not only calling us not to take oaths, for example to have to swear on something in order to be trusted to tell the truth. He is saying, “Imagine a society in which telling the truth is the default assumption, in which people keep their promises and don’t deceive each other.” Wouldn’t that be nice, if we could actually trust one another, even trust our leaders, simply to tell us the truth! Not to accept “all politicians lie” as the default!
You see, Jesus calls us again and again into more than the bare minimum. He calls us to “choose life” at every turn, to constantly discern what would uplift this beloved community, what would cause it to flourish, what would bring about its life. As God’s beloved, who are saved by God’s own self-giving, we are being beckoned into a life that reflects the fullness of divine love, grace, mercy, and generosity. Sometimes, unfortunately, that means ending a relationship that is causing more brokenness than life, and then grieving that loss accordingly. And sometimes it means working your behind off to find the life in it – which is no less than God did to bring about life for us.
         We are called to this way of living because, if we are being honest, that place Jesus calls hell is all too real – we experience it and create it for each other whenever we choose self-satisfaction or self-promotion over love of neighbor and uplifting one another, or when we choose legalism over radical love. Sure, we may get a quick dopamine hit from that clever insult we flung, or from the excitement of the possibility of pleasure, or from what we see as righteous anger. But this is no life compared to what we have in Jesus Christ, who went to all lengths to bring about for us the possibility of a life that cannot be overcome by any death or despair.
         Christ has already won that life for us. The question before us is, will we work to live in it, and bring it about, in our day-to-day lives on earth? Will we align our priorities, choices, and decisions with the vision of the beloved community that Jesus describes, and died to bring about?
         Let us pray… Gracious God, you paint a vision of a beloved community that has life and love as its core and its goal. Let our lives reflect that vision in our relationships with one another, and with you. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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