Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany

Leviticus 19.1-2,9-18

1 Corinthians 2.10-11, 16-23

Matthew 5.38-48

We are far removed in time and place from the people who created the Bible. For churches like ours who do not interpret it literally, it can be a challenge to articulate clearly what it really means to us. As Anglicans we claim scripture as one of the three basic elements of what we believe. The other two are reason and tradition. I think reason has been applied to the selection of today’s Old Testament lesson. It is harmonious with the gospel text as a guide for basic principles of living, but the organizers of the lectionary have elected not to confuse or embarrass us 21^st century folk with the full brunt of Leviticus 19. It states that holy living demands that the righteous abstain from the cross-breeding of animals, mixing two kinds of fiber in one garment, trimming or removing facial hair and -- tattoos.  Lucky us. Where would young adult ministry be if we had to outlaw ink, the soul patch and the 5 o’clock shadow?  Those who put together the Lectionary didn’t want to distract us from what was really important about this passage.

Or did they, perhaps, not want to worry us with God’s prohibition of unjust sentences and special treatment for the rich and powerful. Not that we have such things done in our names or on our behalf on a regular basis, any more than we have tattoos, but those are the kinds of things that might make us uneasy hearing all of Leviticus 19.

In the text appointed for this morning God tells the people of Israel that they must not harvest their fields in such a way as to leave nothing behind. The rule allows those who are too poor to have the use of a field the hope of feeding themselves. They did not buy the field, they don’t pay taxes on it or take care of it. They did not plant the grain or pull weeds. They have no claim on the grain at all. God gives them moral claim on it because they are a part of the community. If you have ever felt embarrassed or intimidated from advocating for federal extension of unemployment benefits or criticizing Congress for reducing food stamp benefits I hope this text relieves any anxiety you may feel about speaking your mind because God has called you to do so.

Matthew’s very Jewish Jesus carries forward these kind of practical guidelines for righteous living in today’s gospel lesson. He begins with the law of Moses and the traditions of his own people but pushes them a step further. For anyone who imagines that Jesus somehow supersedes the faith and practice of the Jews, this text should convince you that he truly is what he said – the fulfillment of the law and then some. His instructions take the form of “that was then, this is now.” You have heard an eye for and eye. But I say do not resist an evildoer. You have heard love your neighbor and hate your enemy. I tell you to love your enemies and pray for those who hate you.

Three sections of this text are among the most distinctive of Jesus’ teachings: if anyone strikes you on the right cheek turn the other also; if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second.  Most people assume that this passage calls Christians to an extraordinary endurance of bad behavior. It’s motivated many a church to tolerate the behavior of bullies. In reality it has a subtle, subversive meaning that we don’t see because of our distance from Jesus’ original audience. He and his followers lived in conquered territory. The presence of the Roman army was ubiquitous and oppressive. It’s not difficult to imagine a soldier striking a peasant or tradesman for some perceived insult or insolence. The blow would come from the assailant’s right hand. If the one receiving it turns his face to the other side, inviting another blow, he would be daring the assailant to strike him with his left hand, an act that, in the culture of the time, would dishonor the one doing the striking.

In the matter of the coat and the cloak, Jesus refers to a situation in which someone has been sued for the shirt off his back and lost. If that were all he had to lose it is likely that the one winning the judgment against him is in a more powerful position politically and economically.  The coat is a daytime garment. It is useful and to lose it when there is no hope of obtaining another is a harsh penalty. Jesus says if someone does that to you, give him your cloak also. The cloak is a nighttime garment that may be its owner’s only protection from the cold and wind of the desert. To lose it is a more noticeable hardship. In relinquishing the right to the protection of the cloak, the one who loses it exposes the injustice of his oppressor.

Going the extra mile has taken on a very different meaning for us than it had for Jesus’ original audience. A Roman soldier could demand that an inhabitant of a conquered territory carry his baggage at no charge, but only for the distance of one mile. In encouraging his followers to undertake that extra mile, Jesus again invites them to expose the injustice of the conqueror. He also offers them an opportunity to take matters into their own hands – to choose to do more than was demanded, even though the demand in itself is arguably unjust. In doing so they challenge the oppressor’s capacity to control and coerce by military power.

          These two lessons tell us that we are called to do at least three things with regard to injustice – to avoid and oppose it and sometimes to endure it. It’s difficult to know how we decide what response is truly faithful in a particular situation. Would we, for example, ask a gay or lesbian couple in a future Kansas or Arizona to go the extra mile if the proprietor of a business refused them service and scorned their relationship on religious grounds? Would we ask the family of Jordan Davis, the teenager killed in Florida a year and a half ago for playing loud music and insulting his assailant, to turn the other cheek upon hearing that the man who killed him was found guilty of lesser charges but not of murder? What do we do as people of faith in response to a society that seems increasingly to encourage and condone violent confrontation in response to perceived threats? What do we do as people of faith when others use the Christian identity that we share as a defense for discrimination?

I think it’s likely that many of those who are eager to arm themselves in defense against the threats and ill treatment they envision feel left behind by an economy and society where the place they perceived as rightfully theirs no longer exists. People have used religion as a means of sanctifying ignorance and cruelty for as long as religion has existed. And for as long as religion has existed they have managed to persuade others to go along with them. We know that harming or killing others is not an acceptable response to anger or anxiety. And Jesus never called his followers to insult and revile one another. How do we respond to those whose behavior is destructive, irrational and without regard for the humanity of others?

          Jesus says we must love them. He calls his followers to a higher level of holiness than the law commands. The text from Leviticus begins with a similar admonition: you shall be holy, for I the LORD your God am holy. The commands to love and do justice are beyond simple rules for living. They teach us that as a people of God and as followers of Jesus our thoughts, words and actions are meant to reflect the manner in which God created us, that is, in God’s image. We will not reach that goal. But to direct our hearts, minds and actions to reflect God’s holiness is what Jesus calls us to do. In seeking to love those whose thoughts and actions are destructive and contrary to the command to love, we may justifiably call them to account, criticize their actions and bring attention to their injustices. Jesus calls us to do so acknowledging our common humanity our moral fragility and the love of God who loves and forgives, even when we cannot.

Feast of the Presentation

          The holy ancients, Simeon and Anna wait patiently for the one who is to come. The spirit calls them both into the temple on the day when a man and a woman bring a child there to observe the prescribed rituals following his birth. Luke describes the scene in detail, telling the reader why they are there and what they bring with them. He tells us that their offering is that directed by the law for a family without means. The default gift is a lamb, but those who cannot afford to offer one bring a pair of birds. When he sees the child, Simeon knows that his long wait has ended and he acknowledges Jesus before God as the anointed one. Anna, whose life is a daily vigil of prayer, knows him also. The lives of these two righteous elders are constituted by the ancient ways of faithfulness. Their domain is the Jerusalem Temple, itself the ultimate symbol of the ageless faith of Jesus’ people. But in that place, in that moment, these two whose lives are living testaments to that faith know that God has broken into space and time. Nothing will be the same. Mary and Joseph do not know that they are offering to God one who has already been called Son of God. They fulfill a righteous obligation in a spirit of grace and thanksgiving. Simeon and Anna see the divine looking itself in the eye.

          The more colloquial English-language name for this Feast Day of the Presentation is Candlemas. The traditional liturgy begins with a candlelight procession into the church, which we may try here in a future year. It was the day when priests blessed the annual supply of candles for the church’s use. Over the last two millennia the church has demonstrated a gift for innovation and inclusion when it comes to bringing new converts into community. This February 2 feast day falls at the same time of year as the ancient Celtic Feast Day called Imbolc. That festival is associated with things that are hidden, with gestation and birth. In the sheepherding country of Britain it coincides with the season when new lambs are born. It is a cross-quarter day, a day for servants to look for new jobs and tenants to pay rents on the medieval calendar that regulated business affairs. It falls exactly halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. The Celts, celebrated it by lighting fires and looking for signs indicating when winter would end at the time of year when the hope for spring begins to be rewarded with earlier sunrises and later sunsets. In other parts of the northern hemisphere, the religious practices of ancient pagan cultures were similar and in February, northern Christians are no less hungry for light and heat than their polytheistic counterparts. Throughout the centuries, the Church has consistently found ways to weave together its scripture and tradition with the indigenous religious practices of those it sought to convert. You could call it artful generosity or opportunism with a spiritual flavor, but the Church’s arc of inclusion has found ways to stretch time and again. The Feast of the Presentation is an example of it.

          Luke is doing some cross-cultural interpretation of his own in this gospel text we hear today. Many of you are aware that Luke wrote for a gentile audience, much like Paul had done beginning a few decades earlier. Among Luke’s intentions is to give the dominant culture a good impression of Jesus’ followers. He seeks to interpret Jewish tradition and practice along with the life and ministry of Jesus to those whose past religious experience is something more like the civic religions of Greece and Rome or mystery religions like Mithraism. His detailed description of Jesus’ presentation in the Temple and references to Jewish law are attempts to instruct this unfamiliar audience in the background of their new way of believing. Luke writes at a time when Jesus’ followers were, in many places, still very much a part of the synagogue community. The division of Christians and Jews into separate communities with distinct beliefs and practices had hardly begun. In Acts of the Apostles, the sequel to Luke’s gospel, we learn that for many of Jesus’ followers, the whole idea of sharing the good news with gentiles was suspect. It challenged their most basic understanding of what it meant to be a follower of Jesus. Luke’s gospel reaches out to those who were outside the more conventional boundaries that had been set for this new thing that God was doing. His account of the experience of Simeon and Anna lies within a greater narrative that acquaints his gentile audience with the religious formation of others whose experience is very different from their own but with whom the spirit has called them to share Jesus the Christ.

          During the past week a group from the Diocese of Newark released a paper reporting their study of the practice of Open Table, the name they have given to sharing the Eucharist with those who have not been baptized. Open Table has been Trinity’s practice for some time and that is a change for me. I come here from the Diocese of West Missouri where Open Table has been expressly prohibited. The paper is available on the Internet through a link on the Episcopal Café web site. The paper has inspired energetic comment and discussion and that’s a good thing. I encourage you to take a look at the paper. Its conclusion is in favor of the practice of Open Table, but if you have not read a lot about this topic, it can give you a sense of the thoughtful opinion on both sides of this issue. It will be interesting to see how the church grapples with it and where we will land on it 25 or 50 years from now.  What I like about this paper is that it takes a step beyond the ‘hurt feelings’ aspect of requiring Baptism before Communion and looks at the two sacraments in a larger context that takes into account historical, pastoral and theological issues. It attempts also to get at the intersection of spirituality and religious practice from the point of view of those whose prior experience does not include Christian formation. Today’s gospel text describes Simeon and Anna’s experience of coming into the presence of Jesus. The authors of this paper describe those who believe they are called by the Spirit to share in the Eucharist before they are baptized as coming into the presence of Jesus through the sacrament of his body and blood. That is what all of us are doing as we gather in community to share the meal celebrated at God’s table.

          Whatever anyone’s opinion might be on the issue of Communion before Baptism, the challenge before the Church now is to move beyond the boundaries and limitations of the institutional phase of our life as a community. That ended, in fact, some time ago. We have spent decades trying to bring it back to life, rather than discovering what God calls us to now.

          I have heard that last week during his remarks here Bishop Scarfe expressed the opinion that I should receive your welcome to Trinity, then immediately lead you back out the door. In fact that is what I had in mind and I’m glad to hear he thinks it’s a good idea. Where we go as a community will be a part of Trinity’s entire lifetime.  New leadership means something, but it does not signify the start of a new journey, rather, it is the continuation of one in which this community has been engaged for more than a century. Throughout its history, when the church has stepped beyond the boundaries it had previously created for itself, those who experienced that reach outward may have thought of it in terms of the end of the journey. We have plenty of examples to refer to. What we can see from looking back is that all of those struggles over what we have determined as a community to be or not to be true have been steps on a path that we have done our best to walk together, no matter what differences lay between us. Human experience has had and continues to have a profound and lasting impact on the worship and teachings of the Church and the truth of the gospel was and still is that light that reveals to Christians what is authentic and essential in human experience.

          Our reach together beyond these walls will not come from me alone. It will be a work of discernment undertaken by the leaders this congregation has chosen for itself in conversation with all of the members of Trinity. Important work takes time and patience. It is worth working for and waiting for as we see in the examples of Simeon and Anna. I look forward to this journey with you.