Wednesday, February 26, 2014

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 21st 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.


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