God frames resistance: 7th after epiphany

The holy gospel according to Matthew (5:38-48)

Jesus said:

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 God makes the 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 siblings,

                            what more are you doing than others?

                                   Do not even the Gentiles do the same?

              ⁴⁸Be perfect, therefore,

                     as your heavenly Father is perfect.

The gospel of the Lord.

-----

“Do not resist an evildoer.”  Or, translated differently, “Do not repay evil for evil—do not violently resist violence.”  Do not let evil frame your actions.

Jesus lived as a Jew in 1^st century Palestine, which was under the military occupation of the Roman Empire.  Because of this, the Roman Empire could make laws about what anyone in Palestine was allowed to do—Jew or Roman.

Cultures over the millennia have relied heavily on honor and shame to enforce rules and prescribe actions and interactions.  Honor and shame work differently in our context, where wealth and fame can buy and create honor, than they did in first century Palestine.

In Jesus’ day, honor and shame had very clear causes and people’s daily interactions were guided by avoiding shame.  For example, if a slaveowner, or a Roman wanted to put a slave or a Jew “in their place.” They could hit them.  Not just any old hit, though.  They couldn’t use their left hand, because it was reserved for certain unclean tasks—and you could get kicked out of meetings just for gesturing with a left hand, let alone using it. 

So, with the right hand, there were two options: backhanding someone or punching them.  Punching was an interaction between equals, so if your purpose was to put someone—like a slave or a Jew—in their place, then backhanding them was the way to do it—it wouldn’t cause physical injury so much as it would insult or humiliate the recipient, marking them clearly as your inferior.  So, when you backhand someone with the right hand, which cheek is the recipient?

The right cheek.

“if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.”

So, if I was hit with the right cheek, it would be disgraceful, but if I turned to offer my left, and that person wanted to hit me again—with the right hand, of course—how would they have to do it?

With a fist, just as they would if they were hitting an equal.

As theologian Walter Wink puts it, “By turning the cheek, then, the ‘inferior’ is saying: ‘I'm a human being, just like you. I refuse to be humiliated any longer. I am your equal. I am a child of God. I won't take it anymore.’”[1]  This doesn’t mean that the “inferior” won’t be further harmed, but they are no longer acquiescing to their oppression and the master or Roman can no longer “put them in their place.” 

This does not—and let me be very clear about this—does NOT mean that someone who is in an abusive relationship should stay in that abusive relationship.  This does NOT condone the violence being perpetrated.  Instead, it is the beginning of resisting violence on God’s terms.

Another tricky use of honor and shame comes into play with clothing as well.  In first century Palestine, debt was a big problem.  Because of the Roman Empire’s policy of heavy taxing to fund wars, combined with high interest rates—think credit card or payday lending rates, but not quite that high—landowners, who had inherited their land for generations, were facing insurmountable debt and losing their land—their livelihood.

The creditors, by Deutoronomistic law, could sue a person in their debt for their coat, or outer robe, as collateral on the loan.  After gouging the debtors with high interest rates to take their land and make it part of a large estate, owned by an absentee landlord, and taking their coat, giving the cloak as well—the literal shirt off their back—exposes the economy of the day for what it is: a system that forces people into situations of utmost destitution. 

And, the brilliance here is not only that this shock, like turning the other cheek, gives the creditor, the one with the power, the chance to truly see and recognize the harm the system they are perpetuating does to people, but it also brings shame onto the creditor.  You see, when someone in first century Palestine was naked, the shame is on those around them—on the creditor more than on the one who is naked.

One of the other laws of the time allowed Roman soldiers to force Palestinians, like Jesus and the crowds he was talking to, to carry their luggage or do whatever they wanted for one mile—no more.  If the person were to walk more than one mile, it would be an infraction of military code for the soldier.  The centurion, or commander, would then dole out an appropriate disciplinary action—a fine, a flogging, or whatever he felt like.

So the sight of a Jew, forced to carry a soldier’s bag, reaching the milemarker and continuing, throws off the balance of power between the occupying Roman soldier and the Jewish Palestinian.  All of a sudden, the soldier is wondering if the Jew is insulting his strength, implying that the soldier is incapable of carrying his own bag, or if he’ll be spotted and disciplined for this infraction.  Either way, it is not hard to imagine the comedic spectacle of a Roman soldier trailing a Palestinian Jew laden with Roman military equipment, begging to be given his bag back.

Throughout today’s gospel, Jesus, a poor first century Palestinian Jew, is talking to his people with whom he shares the oppression of the Roman Empire by laws and customs that exploit the marginalized and dehumanize in their oppression.  Jesus is giving people ways to resist, ways to not give in to the evil being enacted and legalized against them, ways to follow God’s ways, God’s valuing of each human life, God’s ways of exposing the injustice at work.

This week, in a beautiful and courageous demonstration of God’s economy, God’s values, immigrants throughout this country put Jesus’ words into our context for us.  When Executive Orders seek to ban many immigrants, build a wall against others, and terrorize communities with Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids, the message is clear: immigrants are unwanted here.

But Thursday, immigrants said, “You don’t want us here?  Let’s see how you do for just one day without us.” The Davis Art Museum at Wellesley College in Massachusetts went so far as to take down or cover all of the artwork done by immigrants, putting up labels instead that say “Created by an immigrant.” Not everyone participated in the #DayWithoutImmigrants, but enough did that businesses closed for the day.  We know that dairies and farms cannot function without immigrants—now others do as well.  This is how we #resist—on God’s terms.

March 8^th there is a call for women to strike as well.  What will that look like, if half the country doesn’t come to work?  What will be the next way that we resist systems that work to divide us?  How will we creatively resist an economy that spends billions on wars and weekend trips and yet wants to cut funding for those most in need? 

Will we see Burt and Ernie, Big Bird and Elmo panhandling on the streets because of cuts in public television?  Will the copper coins of the widow’s mite be stacked in front of government buildings because health care costs take every last penny?  What if Mexico and other countries decided to impose the restrictions on us that we are imposing on citizens of their countries, making it harder for us to travel there?

How do we follow God’s way?  How do we not repay evil for evil—not violently resist violence?  How do we keep evil from framing our actions—framing them in the way of God instead?  How do we follow Jesus today?

Amen.

---

[1] The Powers that Be: Theology for a New Millennium, Walter Wink, 1998.  Much of the information for this sermon comes from Walter Wink.

Jesus fulfills the law: 6th after epiphany

The holy gospel according to Matthew (5:21-37)

Jesus said:

²¹“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times,

       ‘You shall not murder’;

       and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’

              ²²But I say to you that if you are angry with a sibling,

                     you will be liable to judgment;

              and if you insult a sibling,

                     you will be liable to the council;

              and if you say, ‘You fool,’

                     you will be liable to the hell of fire.

²³So when you are offering your gift at the altar,

       if you remember that your sibling has something against you,

              ²⁴leave your gift there before the altar and go;

                     first be reconciled to your sibling,

                            and then come and offer your gift.

              ²⁵Come to terms quickly with your accuser

                     while you are going together to court,

                            or your accuser may hand you over to the judge,

                                  and the judge to the guard,

                                        and you will be thrown into prison.

                            ²⁶Truly I tell you,

                                  you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.
 

²⁷“You have heard that it was said,

       ‘You shall not commit adultery.’

              ²⁸But I say to you that every man who looks at a woman with lust

                     has already committed adultery with her in his heart.

              ²⁹If your right eye causes you to sin,

                     tear it out and throw it away;

                            it is better for you to lose one part of your body

                                  than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.

              ³⁰And if your right hand causes you to sin,

                     cut it off and throw it away;

                            it is better for you to lose one part of your body

                                  than for your whole body to go into hell.
 

³¹“It was also said,

       ‘Whichever man divorces his wife,

              let him give her a certificate of divorce.’

       ³²But I say to you that any man who divorces his wife,

              except on the ground of unchastity,

                     causes her to commit adultery;

       and whichever man marries a divorced woman commits adultery.
 

³³“Again, you have heard that it was said to those of ancient times,

       ‘You shall not swear falsely,

              but carry out the vows you have made to the Sovereign.’

       ³⁴But I say to you,

              Do not swear at all,

                     either by heaven,

                            for it is the throne of God,

                     ³⁵or by the earth,

                            for it is God’s footstool,

                     or by Jerusalem,

                            for it is the city of the great Sovereign.

              ³⁶And do not swear by your head,

                     for you cannot make one hair white or black.

                            ³⁷Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No’;

                                  anything more than this comes from the evil one.”

The gospel of the Lord.

-----

Well, today’s gospel has quite a lot packed into it—and a lot that, on the surface can seem pretty clear and condemning—two characteristics I don’t usually attribute to Jesus, though the hyperbole of cutting off hands and eyes are more his style in getting his point across. 

Understanding the historical context of the gospels is especially helpful today—not to make excuses for Jesus’ words, but to give some context that might help us understand what he’s saying and why.

First let’s go back a bit to verse 17 from last week where Jesus said, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish, but to fulfill.”  Here there’s a distinction that we sometimes miss.  Jesus is not talking about just following the law, which is the first five books of the Bible, or Torah, as it commonly called in Judaism, but fulfilling it.

Following the law meant not murdering, not committing adultery, not breaking promises you make.  If you were a man—who had the power and agency and economic access in 1^st century Palestine—it meant giving your wife a certificate of divorce when you wanted to get rid of her like the property that she was.

But following is not what Jesus came to do either, because there is more at work than just obeying or abolishing.

Fulfilling the law meant not only not murdering, but not seeking any kind of harm, or as Martin Luther said in his explanation of the 5^th commandment, “You shall not murder”: “We are to fear and love God, so that we neither endanger nor harm the lives of our neighbors, but instead help and support them in all of life's needs.”

Fulfilling the law meant not only not killing or harming, but instead actively seeking good for others.  It meant working towards reconciliation before offering sacrifices at that time.  It’s why we communally confess our sins and receive God’s forgiveness at the beginning of worship and then share signs of peace with each other before we collect tithes and offerings or receive communion each week.

Fulfilling the law in the case of adultery meant taking into account the ways power, gender, and economic opportunity impacted marriage, independence, and the ability to survive.

Because in Jesus’ day, women were still considered property.  They couldn’t work to support themselves and didn’t have much say in who they married, and no say in divorce.

Fulfilling the law meant that men couldn’t just abandon women on a whim.  Men couldn’t blame women for their own actions—if a man lusted after, or coveted, a woman, it was his fault, not hers—no matter how she dressed or acted.  If a man wanted a divorce, fulfilling the law meant he couldn’t just leave a woman destitute—if we’re thinking about it in today’s terms, we might equate it not with divorce, but with not paying child support—it leaves the other person destitute, with an undue economic burden.

As for promises and swearing, how many of you have ever broken a promise? 

Me too.  It is not fun and if we think about the 10 commandments and not taking God’s name in vain, how could we ever swear to God about something?  Are we ever sure enough to make that promise?

My dad used to tell me to never bet more than I was willing to lose, so if he and I ever disagree on something and he’s really sure he’s right, he’ll bet me a nickel.  Because how sure can you ever really be?

That’s the tough part of all this.  Following the law, worrying about not killing, not harming, lying, stealing—not messing up, is hard and when that’s what we’re trying to do—when that’s our focus, it’s a pretty pessimistic take on life.

There is no way for us to do it all.  When it is up to us, we fail.  We fail so badly, in fact, that we crucify Jesus.  After all, the crucifixion followed the law.  The law was that Jesus was to die and die he did.  The crucifixion didn’t, however, fulfill the law—that came 3 days later. 

Somebody once asked “what is the first step to resurrection?” 

The answer: “Death.” 

Resurrection—everlasting life—cannot happen without death happening first.  Once we die to sin—defeated by the law in baptism—then God frees us in the resurrection to new life.

And then our focus shifts from following the law, to Jesus, who fulfills the Torah.

Then there is hope.  Our focus becomes the spirit of the Torah, a spirit of compassion, concern for the vulnerable, accountability for the powerful.  We can stop wondering how to avoid negative consequences and instead focus on how to contribute to the positives. 

Not because we have to, but because we have already been killed with Jesus.  We no longer need to be afraid of the law.  In baptism we are joined to Christ in a death like his—a death to the law, so that we are free to live a resurrected life with him here and now.  Christ frees us to respond to God’s love—to respond to God’s outreach to us.  To live into the fulfillment of the law, the spirit of the Torah.  Christ frees us from the fear and anxiety of following the letter of the law and frees us to fulfill the love that is the foundation of the Torah, fulfilled in Christ.

Thanks be to God.

God makes the Table every table: 5th after epiphany

The first reading is Isaiah 58:1-12.

The holy gospel according to Matthew (5:13-20)

Jesus said:

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 dominion of heaven;

       but whoever does them

              and teaches them

                     will be called great in the dominion of heaven.

       ²⁰For I tell you,

              unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees,

                     you will never enter the dominion of heaven.

The gospel of the Lord.

-----

In today’s readings, we catch a glimpse of Lent on the horizon.  While Lent is still several weeks away, we hear in Isaiah a call to reflect on our own piety.  When we fast, why are we fasting? Today we might ask, when we pray, why are we praying? What do we hope for? When we tithe or give offerings, why do we do it?  Do we hope that God will cure us? Provide for us? Save us? Protect us?  Be at our every beck and call?

Or, following Jesus’ exhortation in the gospel, are we living into Isaiah’s and the gospel of Matthew’s conviction that faith comes with action?  Are we salt for the whole earth?  Are we a city on a hill?  Are with the light of the world?  Are we loosing the bonds of injustice?  Are we praying for the refugees who, like Jesus and the holy family shortly after his birth, are fleeing violence in their own countries?  For the refugees who have been waiting through screening after screening, years of waiting and being vetted, to get into this country. 

Is our prayer, our fast, our offering, our piety “to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? ⁷…to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?”

I don’t have to tell you that a lot has been going on in this country lately.  It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by all that is happening so quickly and so confusingly.  And it can be easy to think of the executive orders and nominations coming out of Washington DC as far away and disconnected to what is going on here in Rushford and Peterson, Minnesota.

But Minnesota is known for and takes pride in its welcome of refugees and immigrants, which means that travel bans harm Minnesotans.

Even if this weren’t the case, in this second part of Jesus’ sermon on the mount, Jesus tells us, “You are the salt of the earth; … ¹⁴You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid.”  As followers of Christ, our concerns are not just for ourselves or our businesses or our immediate circles. 

Salt actually doesn’t taste that good when you eat it by the spoonful—it’s disgusting, really.  Salt is best when it’s sprinkled throughout a dish, bringing out the natural flavor of the other foods in the dish, or spread evenly over ice, to melt it into walkability.  And light shines best when it isn’t hidden or blocked, so that it can reach to the farthest corners.

Perhaps the most poignant of the three, is you are a city on a hill.  Salt and light tend to have inherently positive connotations (as long as we’re not talking about blood pressure), but being a city on a hill is not inherently good.  It comes with its own vulnerabilities.  It is easy to see people approaching, yes, but it also means people can see what’s going on from many different angles—the good examples and the bad ones.

We as Trinity and First and we as individual followers of Christ, are a city on a hill.  This is especially true since we are the only Reconciling in Christ congregation in the area—the only one to explicitly welcome people of diverse sexual orientations and gender identities.  And we are the ones in relationship with our neighbors who work locally on the farms. 

People notice what we do and say and what we don’t do and don’t say.  When someone makes a disparaging comment about Muslims or immigrants or loving the sinner and hating the sin, do we speak up?  Do we tell them about the immigrants we know?  Sharing our stories of friendship?  Will we invite them to come learn about Islam with us in our My Neighbor Is a Muslim study?  Do we admit when we mess up, apologize, and try to do better?

How do we live into our identity as a city on a hill?  How do we give in to our saltiness and our light?  How does God work through us to bring out the flavors—the uniqueness of those around us?  How does God shine through us so that we can see the ones who are different from us more clearly?  To see them as beloved children of God?  How do we let people see who we are and whose we are in our daily actions and conversations?

Today is a communion Sunday.  In a little bit, we will each receive bread and wine or juice, the body and blood of Christ.  We will receive The Light of the World who makes us lights of the world when he shines through us.

We will receive the Lord’s Supper, God’s enactment of community that does, as Isaiah says, “loose the bonds of injustice, undo the thongs of the yoke, let the oppressed go free, and break every yoke … share bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into a house; cover [the naked], and not hide from kin” or stranger. 

Communion does this because each person is fed.  Every person has a place at God’s Table.  Every person deserves a place at God’s Table.  Every person deserves a place safe from violence.  Every person deserves justice, freedom from oppression, bread, clothes, shelter, recognition. Because Jesus comes to every person out of immense love.

It is in God’s gathering of our broken bodies—bodies broken by life, by the pain of the world, by sins—our own or others’.                        All the bodies.  God gathers us together and nourishes us and this Table becomes every table.  This Table becomes the tables downstairs where we will share soup, feeding each other and supporting the food shelf, which ensures that everyone has enough to eat.   

And this Table becomes every table we gather around—at home and in the community, whether we’re sharing a meal, holding a business meeting, or gathering to support each other in sobriety. This Table becomes every table, where we ask, “Does everyone have a place? Can everyone make it?  How do we break down the walls that keep some people away?  Can we bring the table to them?” 

God makes this Table every table.  And God makes this city on a hill into a Table in the bluffs where each person shines.

Thanks be to God.