Sunday, February 19, 2017

February 19, 2017 - Epiphany 7A


In the name of God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
            What does it mean to be a Christian? That, I realize, is a big question. But it seems that we who gather on a Sunday morning in the name of God ought to be able to answer that question. I suppose the simplest answer is “Being a Christian means believing in the triune God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” But then we might ask, “what does it mean to believe,” and we’re right back where we started – struggling to articulate what our faith is all about. Both our readings from Leviticus and Matthew offer some insight into how we might coherently understand our faith and what it means to be Christian.

            In Leviticus, God speaks to the people through Moses, saying “You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.” This is echoed by Jesus’ words in Matthew – “be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” As a point of clarification, the word “perfect” does not, in this usage, mean to be without error. Rather, think of it in terms of finding the perfect tomato – one that is mature, ripe, full of flavor. This is not a call to perfectionism, rather it is a call to be as fully developed in our faith as possible. And the word used in Leviticus, “holy,” means to be different, or set apart.
            This call to holiness, or “set apartness,” is what we see going on in Matthew. Jesus instructs his followers by offering them an antithesis to the ways in which the world works. “You have heard it said… but I say to you…” In Leviticus, the same dynamic plays out in the form of a series of statements about the ways in which the faithful are to differentiate themselves from their surrounding culture. So, perhaps, a response to the question “What does it mean to be Christian?” is “To be Christian is to be different.”
            It’s not news that Jesus was revolutionary – that’s why he collided with the powers-that-be and was killed. Jesus’ message here, and throughout the Gospel, is “don’t conform, reform.” In the language of the Gospel, it’s a message of “repentance.” And remember, repentance does not mean “saying sorry,” but rather repentance means that you have a change of heart, that you see things in a new way, that you go in a new direction. Our Christian faith isn’t content to leave us where we begin, but rather draws us deeper into the love and grace of God. As we turn towards God, it means that we will turn away from other things.
            Consider Jesus’ first example – “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well.” This is a radically different way of being in the world. Non-violence is not something that comes naturally to most of us. Someone hits you, and we react with fight or flight, not by offering the other cheek. Someone takes us to court for damages, we either fight it or settle the case, we don’t say “Here, take more than you were asking for.” If we stop and think about Jesus’ words, we realize just how preposterous they really are.
            In a seminal book for my understanding of discipleship, Resident Aliens, Will Willimon and Stanley Hauerwas write “Cheek-turning is not advocated as what works (it usually does not), but advocated because this is the way God is.” There’s an important refrain in the reading from Leviticus – after each statement, God reminds us “I am the Lord.” This isn’t divine ego stroking, like a boss who constantly has to remind everyone how important she is or how he is in-charge. No, God is not making an authority claim by repeating “I am the Lord.” Rather, that refrain makes a claim on us. It reminds us that we are God’s. God created us, redeems us, sustains us. We belong to God; thus, we ought to act like it. So don’t steal, because God doesn’t steal. Don’t defraud your neighbor, because that’s not what God’s people do. Don’t have hate in your heart, because God is love. Don’t strike back against your oppressors, because God is peace.
            To our American sensibilities, this seems out of sync with reality – maybe a nice theory, but this isn’t how the world operates. You might say “I’m not interested in a religion that turns me into a doormat or a punching bag.” And that’s a valid concern. Jesus doesn’t tell us these things because they are obvious or easy. If Jesus had said “Love your friends and family, for they are good people” and stopped there, would anyone have paid attention to him? Would the world be any better off by that message? Probably not. Loving your friends comes naturally, but not your enemies.
            It’s actually a rather subversive move – as it robs our enemies of their power over us. If you hate your enemy, your neighbor, your boss, then they have immense power over you. They are able to infect you with anger, they are able to steal your focus from other things, they are able make you act contrary to the way that you want to be. The way to rob them of this power isn’t by returning evil for evil, smite for smite, snub for snub. Rather, the way to counter them is with love – to say “I’m not going to let you to cause me to stumble.”
            When someone treats us violently, a response of retaliation or more violence does nothing to bring about the grace of God. But a non-violent response exposes the depravity of their violence towards you. There’s a reason why Jesus is at the center of our faith, because through his response to his violent death, he showed us a better way than “an eye for an eye. Hauerwas and Willimon write “The Cross is not a sign of the Church’s quiet suffering submission to the powers-that-be, but rather the Church’s revolutionary participation in the victory of Christ over these powers.” Turning the other cheek is not an act of submission, rather it is an act of revolutionary defiance.
            One note of caution, there is a difference between non-violent resistance and abuse. The Church has a sad history of enabling abusers by telling people, often women, that somehow domestic violence is holy or acceptable. It is not. There is no shame at all in getting out of an abusive relationship.
So what might it look like if we are to be holy, to be different in this world? The first step is to recognize the brokenness of the world, which we often call sin, and the way of love and grace given to us by God, which we often call salvation. If we didn’t know any better, we might think that it is perfectly acceptable to make sure that we have plenty before others have enough, we might think it is okay to return an eye for an eye, we might see power as being the one with the biggest stick. Start being different by trusting that love is stronger than hatred, that Resurrection overcomes death, that victory comes not through strength but sacrifice.
But then the time comes for us to put this belief into practice. Again, Hauerwas and Willimon write “The challenge of the Gospel is not the intellectual dilemma of how to make an archaic system of belief compatible with modern belief systems. The challenge of Jesus is the political dilemma of how to be faithful in a strange community.” In other words, in a world where violence is normal, where selfishness is advantageous, how do we act differently? How do we act as if God is the Lord?
As Jesus says, loving your friends is easy, and not radical, even the tax collectors do that; loving your enemies is holy. Who are your enemies? And I don’t ask as an abstract question – who are the people that you can’t stand? Maybe a politician, maybe an estranged family member, maybe a co-worker? Consider how you might start loving them.
This, I know, is hard work. It’s hard work because treating those well who treat your poorly is just so counter-intuitive. But more than that, it makes you vulnerable. No one is made vulnerable by hate, but love opens you to risk. It has been said that “The Cross is what happens when you take God’s account of reality more seriously than Caesar’s.” When you choose to live without fear, to be quick to love, to be ready to forgive, sometimes you will be taken advantage of, sometimes you will be ostracized. Faith in God will make you different, and as we all know, our society doesn’t generally treat difference well. We like predicable conformity, we like when people play by the rules, we like things that fit into pre-established categories. I am under no illusion that being holy, that being different in the name of God, is easy. And that is why we need each other.
One of the refrains in the theology of Hauerwas is “The role of the Church is to be the Church, not to transform the world.” There a many laudable dreams that we might have for our world – an end to global hunger, the disarmament of nuclear weapons, equal pay for equal work. These are fantastic things to hope for, but they ought not to be our goal. Rather, our goal is simply to be the Church. And if we can get that right, or at least more right than we currently do, then those other outcomes will follow.
We can be the Church by focusing on worship. Our culture is so full of idols that we don’t even see them anymore – power, money, prestige, technology, the list could go on and on. What worship does is to put something else in front of us, it puts us on the right track. Worship reminds us of our radical equality before God, worship roots us in community, worship orients us to something bigger than ourselves, worship gives us a healthy dose of mystery to make us more humble. If we can commit ourselves to gathering Sunday in and Sunday out, to prioritizing Sunday worship above all else, to making daily prayer a part of our life, then we will become part of a rhythm of life that is different than the world. We can become holy by making sure that our schedule allows us to encounter holiness through worship.
Another practice that I commend to you is the Sacrament of Reconciliation, sometimes called Confession. This Lent, I will be in the Chapel from 4-5pm on Wednesdays offering the Sacrament of Reconciliation. The practice of confessing your sins and having a priest pronounce the forgiveness of God is a very holy act. And by holy, I do mean different. We live in a culture where most people cannot admit wrong doing, where we carry around our mistakes and burdens that weigh us down, where we think that we’re supposed to figure it out alone. Reconciliation is a corrective to that, and I personally find it to be liberating and hope-filled.
A few notes on Reconciliation – as I said, I’ll be in the Chapel from 4-5, if I’m in a session with someone, there will be a sign on the door, just wait in the Library which is right next to the Chapel. The Sacrament lasts about 10 minutes. If you’d like to schedule a time where we can talk for longer than that, you can always contact me and we’ll find a separate time to allow for more conversation. The subjects of Reconciliation can be varied, whatever you seek liberation from and forgiveness for. And what happens in Reconciliation stays there. I will never bring up any topic that you mention, I will pray that I might forget what you tell me as soon as you leave the Chapel, and I resolve to only pronounce God’s forgiveness, not to judge you or see you any differently.
The Sacrament of Reconciliation is part of what it means to be the Church, to be holy, to be different. It is to take a serious look at our lives, to humbly ask for forgiveness, and to encounter the grace of God. Reconciliation offers you the opportunity to leave your sins in the past, to make a fresh start, to unburden yourself of things that you’ve been carrying around in your conscience for too long. Reconciliation involves the revolutionary claim that you make mistakes, and yet are still deserving of love, that you wish to live a holier life, that the Lord is your God. I hope and pray that many of you will avail yourself of this opportunity in Lent and encounter the grace and holiness of Reconciliation.
Being a Christian means being different – focusing on love, focusing on God, focusing on grace. In being different, we find the salvation of God – the liberation from all that keeps us from fully grasping the abundant life that God intends for us. May God give you the resolve, the courage, and the grace to be different. Amen.