Tuesday, February 25, 2014

“Love Disarms” Sermon February 23, 2014




Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18
Psalm 119:33-40
1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23
Matthew 5:38-48
On Saturday, February 15, a man named Michael Dunn was convicted of multiple counts of attempted murder for shooting into a carful of teenagers outside a Jacksonville [, Florida] convenience store in 2012. Jordan Davis was killed in the shooting, but the jury couldn't reach a verdict on the first-degree murder charge against Dunn. A mistrial was declared on that count. Jordan was a black 17 year old young man. Michael Dunn is a 47 year old white man. He had told the four young men in the car to turn their music down—and then Michael Dunn decided to shoot into the car with a 9 mm handgun. He said he saw a shotgun, no gun was found in the car. Michael Dunn calls himself a victim AND a victor. Jordan Davis was 17; he was not an adult, and he was unarmed.

Last summer when Carl and I were at the Disciples General Assembly in Orlando, Florida, George Zimmerman was found not guilty of the murder of Trayvon Martin, another a black 17 year old young man. George Zimmerman killed Trayvon, who was also unarmed, because he said he felt threatened and had been attacked.

In our encounters with one another as human beings, in times of conflict or disagreement it seems to me than each one of us want self to come out on top. We especially want winners and losers in the ways that we interact with one another as members of particular groups—race, gender, social class, sexual orientation—and combinations of those groups. Those of us who are more powerful: white and/or male and/or somewhat wealthy are often taught to be fearful of those who are in the expected minority, those whose identity and place is less powerful, less a part of the norm. In other words, many of us white people are fearful of people of color because many of us white people expect people of color to conform to our expectations, our wants and needs and take their refusal to do so as a threat. This non-existent threat is perceived as cultural and personal. Sometimes this threat is taken so seriously that we attack pre-emptively—as Michael Dunn did, as George Zimmerman did.

Our problems with violence don’t always have to do with race, but when race differences, racist systems, and power differentials are in the mix, violence accelerates at an incredible rate.

I could describe many historical situations where this is true. One example comes from the early 20th century. There was a city on the north side of Tulsa, Oklahoma called Greenwood. It was an African American community and one of the wealthiest place in Oklahoma—it was known as Black Wall Street. According to the history, a rumor spread about a young black man who was in an elevator with a young white woman in downtown Tulsa. Those two just being in the same place at the same time was enough to cast suspicion on him. On May 31, 1921 a group of armed white men congregated outside the jail where the young black man was being held and, subsequently, a group of African American men joined the assembled crowd in order to protect him. After arguing over a gun, which was fired into the air, more shots were fired and the riots began. Within 24 hours Greenwood had been destroyed. At the time of the riot, the American Red Cross estimated that over 300 persons were killed. The Red Cross also listed 8,624 persons in need of assistance, in excess of 1,000 homes and businesses destroyed, and the delivery of several stillborn infants.[1] I never heard this story in Oklahoma history. And I never heard it in any American History course I ever took either. Winners often write history.

We want winners and losers instead of sharing in the abundance of God’s provision. We want “us” to win and “them” to lose. We want what we’ve always had—or been told that we are entitled to—instead of realizing that God’s provision isn’t about merit or designation. God’s provision, God’s love, is for all of creation.

In the scripture texts in Leviticus and Matthew, God has given us a word about how God desires groups of people to relate to one another regarding the power differences between those groups and how those groups view one another. We make choices about our behavior as individuals—and bible reminds us time and time again that as individuals we relate to one another within community and within those communities are other related groups. In both texts, and even in Paul’s letter, God’s people are discouraged from maintaining groups with power and groups without—or winners and losers. In all of these texts, love is the rule even when the action differs somewhat due to historical time and place.

In Jesus’ time, described by Matthew’s gospel in today’s text, the groups look a little bit different than they did in the time of Leviticus. And Jesus’ strategies look different, too. The Jews were an occupied and oppressed people in the Roman Empire. The groups were still in relationships that differed in power level. The Romans related to the Jews; the Sadducees related to the Pharisees; the Jews related to the Samaritans; the men related to the women; the women related to the men; the adults related to the children; the Jews related to those they called Gentile; the disciples of Jesus were called to related to each one as well with a particular set of values, ethics, morals, and behaviors. And some of those behaviors, etc. were, to say the least, unexpected and even sounded a little bit risky, even dangerous.

And Jesus’ words are risky, too, because they are words to the oppressed—and as white people in a white dominated culture we aren’t the oppressed ones. As individuals we may experience the abuse of another individual—but as a group, we are in power. We need to understand the context of these words as advice to the oppressed underclass—not the ruling class or group.

Jesus spoke against retaliation in kind for particular kinds of injuries. In the first testament of the bible, God gave a rule about how injuries should be punished. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth was a mild rule for its day. God wanted people to stop killing others for injuries—make the punishment fit the crime. Jesus looked around as saw that God’s rule had been abused and it wouldn’t be long before everyone was blind and toothless. Violent retaliation simply encourage reciprocal violence—Jesus taught something else. And it’s not just being a door mat.

If someone struck you on the right cheek, in biblical times, only the right hand would have been used, so the right cheek would have been a backhanded slap—the strike of an oppressor, a master to a slave. To offer the left cheek would be to invite them to treat you as an equal, a slap or a punch between matched opponents. Each example in the first paragraph fits this pattern. In lawsuits, a lender was allowed to take the outer coat of a debtor, but had to give it back at night for them to use as a blanket. By taking off their shirt—and being naked—they shamed the lender. A Roman soldier was allowed to force someone in an occupied land to carry their pack a mile, but had to take it back to find someone else to carry it more. Trying to it the second mile would force the soldier to wrestle it away from you, making him look foolish. (Walter Wink)

This text describes nonviolent ways of revealing the unjust power structure—advice to the oppressed from another member of the same class. If we, in our place on the global stage, are the oppressors, what is the message we are given? What is the message we receive as people who have homes, adequate or abundant food, cars, money, etc.? What is our relationship to those who tell us of their unjust lives and reveal our participation in injuries they have sustained?

Does our anger at others make us retaliate against accusations that we don’t understand? Do we respond in our lack of understanding with a violence lashing out? When we are told that what we have is a result of systems of oppression, do we just want to hold onto our possessions even harder, defend them more violently? We need to see when injustice is revealed—and spread the word. We need to see it and stop it when we are taking advantage of injustice and work alongside our brothers and sister toward change. The system is powerful—and yet we can change it.

And Jesus continued in his teaching in what we call the Sermon on the Mount, ‘You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.” But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” I’m going to stop right there, though, and say that we aren’t being persecuted, not as Christians, in this country at this time. And we aren’t being persecuted as white people, as middle-class people (at least not by those in poverty), or as property owners.

Yet as Christians we can raise our awareness, if we choose, of the persecution in this country. The persecution is built into the historical systems of our nation. There are systems, political and economic that are disadvantageous to people of color. Some examples: one is the stop and frisk policies of some major cities. Young men (usually) of color are stopped frequently and illegally searched for weapons, drugs, etc. even when they are doing nothing more than walking down a public street. When boarding airline flights, men and women with particular kinds of names or ways of dressing or color of skin are searched more often. Black children, are among the poorest in this nation. In Kentucky, Michigan, Mississippi, Ohio, Oregon and Wisconsin 50% of black children are poor and in ½ of states over 40% of black children are poor. Nationally, 1 in 3 Black and 1 in 6 Latino boys born in 2001 are at risk of imprisonment during their lifetime. While boys are five times as likely to be incarcerated as girls, there also is a significant number of girls in the juvenile justice system. This rate of incarceration is endangering children at younger and younger ages. A cover story in a recent Time said that last October, only one in 20 African-American male high school grads looking for work found employment.

The perception of many in white culture is that African Americans in this nation, males in particular, are viewed with suspicion, fear and hatred. I have felt it in myself in spite of my awareness and desire to feel otherwise. And it’s based on nothing more than conditioning, racist prejudice in entertainment and supposed news-outlets, selective reporting on violence involving people of color and a fascination with pursuing stories and evidence that fit our expectations of people of color more than the truth.

Though I don’t believe it’s true by any stretch of the imagination, the fear affects me as a member of my group, my white, middle-class, privileged group. Jesus calls upon on us to act counter to our fears, counter to the overwhelming perception of the world as we think we know it. If the empire of the world tells us that black men--in particular--are enemies, Jesus tells us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. Perhaps, in these words, Jesus is explaining that our perception of enemy and our perception of those who persecute is all wrong—if we are in the power group.

God sends rain down upon everyone’s fields—never considering who we deem to be enemy or friend. God send sunshine down upon every single person on the planet, however we categorize them from our self-identified place of power. Jesus is telling us that the world only consists of our brothers and sisters, our neighbors—enemies exist in our minds. Love reigns supreme. In a disagreement, real love, God’s love, makes us drop our best argument and our weapons of death and destruction so that we aren’t blinded by our power to kill. Love disarms us so that we can serve, we can work, we can act as disciples of Jesus, following his life and all that he taught us.

To the glory of our disarming, loving God. Amen.

“Heart of the Matter” Sermon February 16, 2014



Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Psalm 119:1-8
1 Corinthians 3:1-9
Matthew 5:21-37
When I was in seminary the pastor at the church where I attended most often preached on this text from Matthew the Sunday following her public announcement of her divorce to the congregation. The members of that church loved her and her husband. I don’t know what happened, I don’t suppose anyone besides those two are aware of exactly what happened, but it broke the hearts of those who read the news. And it was a hard sermon to give—I can’t even imagine how hard.

This text from Matthew has been one of the 20th and 21st century church’s most difficult to wrestle with as divorce has become more common, often for very good reasons. As we all are aware, there have been times in the past when women were stuck in abusive marriages or with unfaithful spouses. (I say women because men have almost always had the option of divorce.) And these verses concerning divorce are pretty blunt. Yet if you read it within the context of first century Judaism, you realize that Jesus is seeking to protect women from husbands who want to abandon them for shallow reasons—reasons that cause all parties to sin according to the law.

But this whole passage isn’t about marriage and divorce—this whole passage is, however, about integrity, humanity, community, and fidelity. And this passage is just one part of a whole set of teachings that Jesus gave, according to Matthew’s gospel, after he went up the mountain, and sat down and began to speak and teach his followers—his disciples.

Matthew’s gospel outline parallels Jesus with Moses and this passage, from Matthew 5, verse 1 to Matthew 7, verse 28. The gospel writer presents theses teachings of Jesus as Moses’ teachings were brought to the people, from a mountain. And theses teachings are often commentaries or parallels to the laws and regulations based upon the commandments that God gave Moses on the mountain.

Here in these verses, Jesus even quotes a few of the commandments that concern human relationship and interprets them for his followers. “You have heard it said,” Jesus begins, “but I say to you . . . “. Jesus, in these words, was revealing his relationship to God and his understanding of the law and how it functions within human relationships.

Jesus begins with ‘“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, “You shall not murder”; and “whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.” But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment.”’

So just being angry is enough . . . to be liable to judgment . . . so who doesn’t fit that category? I get angry at people. I get angry and hurt when I am personally insulted—though that doesn’t happen as often as it once did. But once I beat on a very close friend of mine (in two separate incidents) because we were arguing about a television show. Yes, that’s what I said, a television show. Stupid, huh? We were good friends and are still friends, but I was overwhelmed by that anger. I was out of control—and that made me angrier. I think that’s what I eventually told her in my apology—that I was possessed by it. I had a choice, don’t get me wrong and at the same time I lost control of myself. And I’ve been angry at children that I love when I saw their behavior as deliberately disobedient. Anger is hard. My own anger has frightened me—I don’t like it at all.

I could have chosen in all of these situations to behave in calmer ways and more loving ways and I didn’t. I believe I am better about this now. I also have to say that there are some situations in which I think anger spurs us to action—but it’s not about carrying out angry emotions or vengeance. Anger at racist, sexist, genderist, ageist, etc., systems instead of anger at persons can move people to change those systems. When Jesus talked about anger between brothers and sisters—he also meant between his followers and we are supposed to be linked by our love for Christ and Christ’s love for us. We are to participate in a better system—something like the kingdom of God.

And our love for Christ—and Christ’s love for us—and God’s love for the entire world leads us to look at Jesus’ next two admonitions regarding the law. “You have heard it said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” And Jesus remarks that the law allows divorce, “Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.” But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the grounds of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorces woman commits adultery.”

Looking at a woman or a man, the other person with desire—especially when in a relationship is, in my opinion, necessary for the life in the relationship. Whether it is a desire for his or her presence, time, conversation, or sexually—I don’t believe that’s Jesus’ point. Lust on the other hand sees another person as an object designated for use—lust turns a person into a thing. Recently I’ve read the proverb, “Most of our problems today stem from us treating objects as if they are people and people as if they are objects.” That’s lust. Lust means no relationship; lust isn’t just desire, lust is all about self.

The second admonition about the allowance of divorce in Jewish culture in the first century sounds a lot to me like the admonition against treating a woman as an object. Women, in first century Judaism, couldn’t divorce their husbands, but husbands could divorce their wives. Jesus’ instruction was intended to eliminate superficial reasons for men to abandon their wives, superficial reasons that included infertility, since Jesus commented that unchastity was the only acceptable reason for a writ of divorce. Even though Jesus condemns divorce—which is a very narrow view in our day and age—he is protecting the more vulnerable person in the partnership in his age and time. He was making divorce more difficult for men who might abandon their wives for shallow reasons. The wives would then have little choice but to remarry to have a home and any kind of protection. Unattached women had no rights in that society. That’s why widows and orphans were often mentioned as people to whom the rest of society was responsible.

Finally, in this passage, when Jesus addressed swearing oaths, like swearing to tell the truth on a sacred text, like many do in courtrooms—or like someone might swear “on their mother’s grave” or “on their father’s good name,” we are brought to the basics, the heart of life as a disciple of Jesus. Though our choices may not always be easy ones, our insides are supposed to match our outsides. How we live and our thoughts and beliefs should match. We follow a Jesus who taught that we are to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us—we are taught not to persecute others because they are different. The different people—like the Samaritans to the Jews—are also to be loved because they are neighbors.

When Jesus said, “Let your word be “Yes, Yes” or “No, No”; anything more than this comes from the evil one,” I hear that anything else is an attempt to deceive ourselves or others with an elaborate story. With a vow like swearing by some thing or another—or some idea or another—you or I question our own integrity, we question whether or not our inside matches our outside. We question whether or not our words match our action. As an non-legalistic, non-doctrinal denomination, we don’t forbid our members from taking oaths in court or as a requirement for governmental service, as some do, and yet it should feel strange when we have to put some guarantee on our promises.

The heart of our lives—when we are disciples of Jesus, faithful to God, vessels of the Holy Spirit—calls us to put love first, the heart first. What is loving, what is kind, what is hopeful, helpful and healthy. Severing relationships for no good reason isn’t good—continuing to hate another person (Christian or not), treating covenants between people like they are meaningless, or walking away from another person lightly. When the inside matches the outside, when love—for God, others and self—guide our decisions we have found what being Jesus’ disciple is. We create community and healthy relationships. We strengthen our relationship, as a community with others. But it’s not easy—it takes continuous learning as we grow and develop as human beings.

As children we learned to obey our parents and follow the rules (so that we would learn what love and responsibility look like)—as adults we must learn to examine the world around us, figure out how to love our neighbors, enemies and others with integrity. We make choices daily that effect loving actions and just systems of relationship because we are in systems of relationship. (what we drive, what we buy, how we speak about or treat people in private differently than in public, etc.) We have come to realize—as Jesus taught—that we live in complex systems. Neighbors, spouses, men and women, courts and governments, laws and expectations, written and unwritten draw us into various times of complexity. Let us know ourselves—and know our Christ—so that we can know and decide how to act and to act with justice—which is what love looks like in public.

To the glory of God—creating with a word of life, teaching us a life of love, and breathing into us a spirit of love. Amen.