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.

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