Cause a Scene: February 18, 2017

Year A, Epiphany 7                                                                 
Matthew 5:38-48                                                                   

            In seminary, one of the requirements was that we interned in a hospital as a chaplain.  We would visit people and mostly listen.  But then we met in a group which was essentially group therapy that was supposed to help us evaluate our behavior.  One the things that was ground into us was that we could never use the phrase, “You make me feel…”  We could say, “I feel sad because of something  that a patient said.”  But we could never say the other person made us feel something because then we were not taking ownership of our feelings.  Not only that, in doing so we were giving someone else power over our feelings. That is not the healthiest mindset and it does not help y ou help others.

In many ways, this concept of power was what Jesus was addressing in our Gospel today.  He was doing so in a very unique way.  If someone hits you, turn your cheek so they can hit the other one.  If someone steals you shirt, give them your coat too.  If someone takes advantage of you by making you carry their luggage for a mile, carry it another mile! This is not just unique, it’s plain crazy. Is this really how Christians are supposed to act---like doormats? It makes us appear weak, doesn’t it?  Who would ever want to associate with such weakness?

            As usual, there is more to this text than meets the eye.  First of all, remember who Jesus was talking to at this time.  These statements are part of the Sermon on the Mount---which we have been listening to for the last month.  Jesus was talking to a large group of followers, most of whom were poor.  They were also Jewish people living in Palestine, which means they were under Roman rule. They had very few rights.  Some of the examples that Jesus used in this reading were examples of people who had lost their rights and who were being taken advantage of. 

Let us consider the prevailing culture of the time.  Defending honor and avoiding shame (especially public displays of shame) were prevalent themes.  It is also a theme throughout the Old and New Testaments.   Battles were fought because one’s honor had been offended.  Family and friends were divided because of honor and shame.  Punishment was given to restore honor.  Often times the retaliation or punishment was greater in proportion to the crime itself.  The Old Testament sought to address this disproportion by limiting retaliation by essentially saying, “no more than an eye for an eye.”  For example, if someone punches you in face, it would not be appropriate to then kill them.  By the time Jesus was born, Jewish law had evolved by specifying a monetary fine for certain crimes.  Jesus of course, took it a few steps further.

            In Middle Eastern culture, to slap someone’s face was extremely offensive.  Just like today, people don’t usually slap people when they want to harm them.  They want to make a point.  You will notice from our reading that Jesus specifies the right side of the face.  Assuming that most people are right handed, to slap someone on the right side of the face, would mean you would have to backhand them.  This was pretty much the worst kind of insult you could inflict on someone.  It dishonored the person being slapped. The way to regain that honor was to return the slap.  Jesus was telling people to resist the urge to slap back.  By resisting the urge to retaliate, you were basically saying, “I cannot be dishonored that easily because you don’t have that kind of power over me.” 

            In the 2^nd example, Jesus says that if anyone wants to sue you for your coat you give them your cloak as well.  This is commonly explained, “If someone takes your shirt, give them your coat as well.”  That is not an accurate translation.   At the time, this was actually a legal transaction.  If you were in debt (which a lot of poor people were---and still are for that matter), you would give your coat as pledge that you would repay the debt. At this time the coat was more of a tunic (and undergarment).  Poor people would almost surely have two of them. While losing one would be a loss, it would not be a life threatening.  What would be life threatening would be losing your cloak.  A poor person would only have one.  It was used not only to shield you from the cold during the day, but as a blanket at night. 

Why would Jesus tell these people to give up their cloak after they had already given up their tunic?  This meant that you were naked.  In using this example, Jesus was being more metaphorical than literal.  By giving up your clothing, you reveal yourself.  But not only do you reveal yourself, you reveal the shame of the person who is forcing  you to reveal yourself.  It becomes evident to all how extreme and unfair the punishment is.  It brings things out in the open.

            The third example is referring to the right of the Roman soldier to force a Jewish person to carry their load (whatever that might be) for a mile.  This was also a way to shame the community because it was further proof that someone had power over them.  However, there were limits to the power.  The Roman soldier was only allowed to force the Jew to go one mile.  If they went more, the soldier could get in trouble.  By going the extra mile, the person was once again displaying the unjustness of the society that they were living in.  While a mile was perceived as reasonable by the Romans, more than that was uncivilized.[1]  It got people’s attention.

            By making these requests, Jesus was not asking people to be weak.  He was asking for strength and refusal to be shamed no matter who had the perceived power in the situation.  This power differential continues in our society in many ways.  Some of these ways are less obvious than others.  How many of us, regardless of whether we feel poor or oppressed, have given someone else power over ourselves—meaning the power to affect our feelings and our self-worth?  It is pretty common. There are hundreds of self-help books devoted to the topic of self-empowerment.  We don’t need the self-help books, because Jesus addressed it here in the 1^st century. 

The main difference between Jesus and the self-help books is that Jesus was not just talking about self-empowerment; he was talking about God-empowerment.  If your identity and your essence is rooted in God, then no person, no entity can shame you.  To be rooted in the identity of God means that you are inherently good and beautiful as you are made in God’s image.

Not only that, we have the power and the responsibility to stand up for those people who are being oppressed.  Jesus was not saying, “If someone is treating you unfairly, you might as well just give in and not cause a scene.”  He was saying, “Cause a scene--but not with violence, with honesty and your God given power---the power that no one can take away from you.”  Martin Luther King and Gandhi were both inspired by these words of Jesus. They were empowered by these words.  They changed the world with these words. 

In many ways Jesus died because he refused to appease the power structure of his day.  Then Christians did a crazy thing.  They took the cross, a symbol of Roman oppression and cruelty and they turned into a symbol of hope and redemption.  Let us remember that when we gaze at the beautiful crosses in our churches. They were not always so beautiful.  They were bloody and cruel.  Jesus transformed the cross and has also transformed us so that we can continue to be symbols and enablers of transformation in this world.  Later in the Gospel of Matthew Jesus told his disciples, “‘Have no fear of them; for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops.  Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.’”[2]

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[1] Explanations of the 3 examples were found in: Let the Scriptures Speak by Dennis Hamm   http://liturgy.slu.edu/7OrdA021917/theword_hamm.html

[2] Matthew 10:26-28a

Pragmatism is Overrated: February 5, 2017

Year A, Epiphany 5                                                               
Isaiah 58:1-9 and Matthew 5:13-20                                                                   

 

            When I was first ordained, I had a conversation with someone at a clergy event…well I suppose it was more of an argument.  At one point I said, “That’s just not realistic.”  He responded, “It really bothers me when people say something in our faith is not realistic.  There are a lot things in our faith that are not realistic.  That does not make them untrue.” That statement made an impact on me. While he was no doubt wrong about the argument itself, he definitely won that point.  Consider the Christian story. A baby was born to a virgin.  Kings from the East followed star to find the baby who was in a manger.  This baby grew to be a man who healed people, brought people back from the dead, walked on water, turned water into wine, and on and on.  He gathered a small band of followers who were mostly fishermen. This man Jesus, died so that people he did not know could be saved.  He came back to life and later floated up into heaven.  A religion was created from this small group of followers and now claims the greatest following in the whole world.  Is any of that realistic?

            Of course not! That is an indictment of Christianity, or really any faith.  People say it’s like believing in dragons or magic.   There is nothing real about.  It’s just there to make us feel better, or worse to give certain people power and dominion over others.  That’s what some people say.  If you are here in church, it is very likely that you already believe the unbelievable.  You might have a hard time believing it all, but there is something that draws you to Jesus and to faith…something that is extraordinary. So you keep coming back to this house of worship.  Many of us find holiness in these walls with this community.  We are emboldened by the prayers and the music.  But when we leave this sacred enclave, often our faith becomes private and personal.  It is still real, but it is real only in a corner of our lives.

            Jesus said, “You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? ….“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid…”   Referring to people as light is not a new concept for most of us.  We sing. “This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine…” We might describe someone as “lighting up a room.” Light is a good thing.  It enables us to see where we are going and what we are doing.  Light gives us hope.

Salt is a trickier metaphor.  When we think of salt, we think of something that is not good for us or something we have to cut out of our diet because we have high blood pressure.  We use it to season food that is bland.  It’s a common ingredient.  Nevertheless, it is something that almost everyone has in their kitchen.  It can be quite handy.  It can bring out the flavor in those bland things.  It adds a little zest.  Have you ever had french-fries without salt? They are horrible! With salt, those are some tasty treats.

Salt had slightly different purposes in the time when Jesus was telling people, “You are the salt of the earth.” It was used to preserve food.  It was even used for heat. They did not have gas or electric ovens like we have today.  They didn’t even use wood because it was hard to come by.  The stuff that was very abundant was camel or donkey dung.  This could be used as fuel, but only if you were able to mix salt with it.  Salt was essentially the catalyst that caused the dung to burn. While this is not the most appetizing image, it is clear that salt, like light, had and has an important purpose.  Salt and light, by their very nature do something.  Part of what Jesus was saying to his followers and to us is that we have a purpose.  We are here on earth to do something. 

You might think, well that is great news, but what are we supposed to do?  The answer to that is in the reading from the Old Testament, the Book of Isaiah.  In this story, we hear all about what people are doing.  They are fasting.  They are humbling themselves by rolling in ash and wearing sack cloth (which is an incredibly itchy fabric).  They are doing all the important rituals to get God’s attention and gain his favor--- but God is not listening, or if he is, he is not responding in the appropriate way.  In fact when God does respond to these displays of piety, God tells his prophet Isaiah, “I don’t want these symbolic gestures.  I want these people to do something….to do something for the other people in their midst.   I want them to help the oppressed, to share food with the hungry and bring homeless people into their homes.” 

What was really irritating God about this situation is that these people were fasting and spending all this time rolling around in ashes.  They were so busy making these grand gestures, other people had to do their work.  And the people who were doing their work were the people who were their servants and slaves.  They were people who did not have the luxury to say no to the people in power.  These people who were doing all these rituals were also using it as an opportunity to argue about who was more godly, who was more holy.  They had totally missed the point. 

I know I sound critical of this pious group and I should not be.  I am a priest.  I am all about ritual.  I know that it is easy to get lost in the ritual and the rules and forget what we (the people of God) are really about.  It is a lot easier to talk about God than do the work of God. It is easier to describe the light than to be the light. What God was asking of his people hundreds of years ago is what he still asks of us today: to help the oppressed, the share food with the hungry and bring homeless people into our homes.  That is a lot easier said than done, especially when most of us cannot agree on the best way to do those things. 

This is one of those times when Jesus and the Bible don’t seem very realistic.  I cannot let a homeless person in my home.  I mean, it’s one thing if we know them, a friend or family member who has fallen on hard times.  But I cannot welcome just any person into my home.  It’s dangerous. 

Unfortunately I don’t know what the answer is.  On the one hand, I believe that we are called to do things that do not make sense to the world, things that most people would say is totally unrealistic and naïve.  On the other hand, I don’t know the best way to do those things, or I am too scared to do them.   This is the best answer I can come up.  Jesus said, “You are the salt of the earth.  You are the light of the world.” He did not say, “Once you have reached paradise, you will be the salt of the earth and light of the world.” He did not say, “Once you have studied, discerned and come up with a practical solution, then, then you are the salt of the earth and you are the light of world.”  No. He is telling us all, right now, just as we are, that we are already the salt of the earth and the light of the world. 

But here is the hard part, we have to share the light.  The light cannot be relegated to our Sunday morning ritual.  We also have to act as catalysts in this world.  That is all a huge responsibility and overwhelming.  To be this light, to be agents of change, we need to gather our collective strength.  Each person here has a way that they are being light and they are being salt.  Tell me what it is.  Send me an e-mail, stick a post it under my door, give me a call. Then collectively, let us find more ways to be salt and light.  For awhile, let us suspend judgment.  Let is not yet decide who is the brightest or who has the most zest.  And maybe (and I know this is hard for practical Episcopalians) let us be just a tad, unrealistic.  When it comes to our faith, pragmatism is overrated.