Rev. Stina Pope,
May 23, 2004
I was not particularly inspired by the Gospel reading for
this morning,
so I let my mind run on to see what I might work with, and what
came
up for me was, how are we supposed to live in this crazy world we live
in
right now? In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s nuts out there. Now one
frequent
response to that recognition is to try and maintain the status
quo in here, but
that begs the question. Even if we did manage to keep
things the same in here,
and I don’t think that’s workable in the long run,
it still doesn’t answer how
to live out there. So I want to take a little time
to think through the
question: How are we supposed to live?
We have come to the end of the Easter season. Pentecost, the
great
birthing day of the church, is next week, and Trinity Sunday, when we
tackle
the mystery of the Trinity head on is the week after that. For the past
seven
weeks we have had time to think about Easter, and what it means to us.
So
there’s the first question, now that the gloriousness of Easter has
begun
to
fade in our memories, what does being an Easter people mean? How do
we live as
an Easter people in our world?
The disciples had the same question. They were
living in an occupied country.
The oppressors were the ones who had killed
their leader – and he was killed
because he did threaten the leaders, but in an
interesting way. So I propose
that the first answer to how do we live now is
to look first at how Jesus lived,
and then at how the disciples turned apostles
lived, in the light of the
resurrection. So how did Jesus live? We’ve all seen
the stickers, etc.,
ad nauseum saying What Would Jesus Do? While I tend to have
trouble with
the people who usually have that saying plastered on their cars
and personal
effects, I think it’s a fair question.
If we want to look seriously at what Jesus would do, we have
to first look at
what Jesus did. When we get the sentimental cloying picture of
Jesus out of
the way, we find a rather astonishing figure. We read the Gospel
of Mark,
and find someone who was angry, a lot of the time and at a lot of
things.
We read the Gospel of Luke, and we find a healer who cared for the
nobodies,
the lepers, the women, the poor, the sick. We read the Gospel of
Matthew,
and we find a Jew who kept the traditions, some of the time. We read
the
Gospel of John, and we find a figure who people are equating with God.
What
would Jesus do? Well, it depends a lot on which Gospel you start with,
and
where you
put your emphasis. Jesus lived in a time which was rife with
uprisings and
confrontation with the authorities. People were actively looking
for someone
who would rise up and throw the oppressors out of their country.
When it
started looking like Jesus didn’t want the job, one theory reads,
Judas tried
to tip Jesus’ hand to start the ball rolling as it were. Instead,
Jesus allowed
the authorities to kill him. Do you realize that we are the
only major religion
which allows its god to be killed? Soooo Jesus wasn’t
political? Wrong! Jesus
was highly political, just not in the usual manner.
You remember there are three very interesting stories,
starting with the
story about turning the other cheek. Lots of things come in
threes,
so if you don’t get it the first time, you still have time to get the
point.
So there is the bit about turning the other cheek, carrying the load an
extra
mile, and giving the shirt when they demand your cloak. What does it
mean
to turn the other cheek? How many times have you heard this used to
indicate
that if someone hurts you, you should allow them to hurt you again?
I get a
headache thinking about how many women have been told this
as a reason to stay
in abusive situations. What does it mean to turn the
other cheek? When we go back
to Jesus’ time, we find out that a servant
was slapped with the back of the
hand, only, and that a friend was slapped
with the front of the hand, only. So
Jesus says, when you have been slapped
as an insult, offer friendship. This is
in line with the OT understanding that
the most devastating thing you can do to
your enemy is to be nice, to force
them to sit down and eat your food, to
accept your hospitality. By doing this
you have heaped coals upon their heads.
When you “offer the other cheek”
you are refusing to maintain the status quo.
You heap coals upon the
offender’s head by offering friendship instead of
hatred. You have changed
the rules. There is nothing here about being meek and
mild and opening
yourself up to more hurt. Instead, you have taken charge of
the situation
and are demanding a response. When you offer friendship, it
catches the
other off-guard, they are off-balance. Who is now in the power
seat?
So if we didn’t get the message in that example, Jesus goes
on to say,
and if they make you walk a mile, walk a second mile. Again, that
has been
misconstrued to say that you should let people walk all over you.
Wrong,
so wrong. This story is actually quite hysterical. Roman roads,
wonderful things,
still extant in many areas, because they knew to build them
with the stones
going diagonally, makes it much harder to dig ruts that way,
anyway, as I was
saying, Roman roads had mile markers. A Roman mile was not
exactly the same
length as our mile, but it was a long way to walk. Then you
need to know that
a soldier’s pack weighed about 50 lbs. They didn’t have
lightweight materials
in those days, and a regular soldier carried all of his
own necessities. A 50 lb
pack is heavy, and it gets quite hot in Palestine,
and the law was that a soldier
could force any able-bodied man to carry the
pack for him, but only for one mile.
So picture it, the soldier has found a
likely subject, and forced him to carry the
pack for a mile, but instead of
putting the pack down at the end of the mile,
this idiot is walking past the
mile marker, still carrying the pack. The soldier
realizes that he is now in
jeopardy for breaking the law, so he is pleading with
the man to put down the
pack. Who has the power here? Who is in charge of
the situation?
In case you still have not gotten the message of what would
Jesus do,
there is a third story, and again, if you don’t know the history, you
miss the
point entirely. The important historical points to know here are:
first, a cloak
was like a tent to a homeless person, it was warmth and shelter
for a poor
person, second, a man’s “shirt” was at least knee length, it was his
main garment,
and third and very important is who is shamed by
nudity. In our society, the person
who is nude is shamed if they are seen nude.
In Jesus’ society, the person who
caused the nudity is shamed,
not the person who is actually without clothing.
Now think about what Jesus
says: if you owe money, and the lender demands
your cloak, give him your shirt
as well and go naked. What Jesus is saying here
is that to demand a man’s cloak
is morally unacceptable, so you should shame
someone who makes this demand by
stripping. By taking off your shirt and standing
there in your underwear, you
make it clear that he is engaging in shameful behavior.
Again, who is in charge
at this point? By standing there quietly in your underwear,
you have brought
shame on the powerful.
What would Jesus do? He would turn the tables. He would act
powerfully,
but with a different kind of power. For those who are used to being
in charge,
this is threatening. We know the names of some of those who have used
this
kind of power in our time, Mother Teresa, Gandhi, MLK. And we know the
names
of some of those who tapped into this kind of thinking because they
were
there
when Jesus was killed. We call them apostles, witnesses, the ones who
have been
sent out. Before Jesus was betrayed, they were disciples. A disciple
is a person who
sits quietly at the feet of a leader. Jesus gathered a group of
disciples, as did any
religious leader, and started teaching them. They sat at
his feet and learned.
Then something changed, and they were hauled to their
feet and sent out to tell
others. Or perhaps they leapt to their feet and ran
out to tell others. But when you
read the accounts of people who have been
changed like this and who have gone
out and done amazing things, what you hear
mostly is a sense of they “couldn’t not”
do what they were doing. Any normal
human being would look at the situation and say
“no thanks” but they didn’t
have a choice. They had to go out.
What we don’t know
is the names of the others, the people
who didn’t make the newspapers. Here is where
we come in. The Christian Church
didn’t start because of twelve disciples, but rather
because of a whole group
of folks who were shocked out of the way things had been
by what they saw
happen. They had purpose and drive and were filled with the Spirit
to tell
people the good news that God loved all people. It wasn’t easy – Peter
had
to
go to the Jewish people in the church in Jerusalem
and tell them that God loved
the Gentiles as much as God loved them, and that
the Gentiles didn’t have to become
Jews for God to really love them. It was a
bitter pill for them to swallow, about as
bad as hearing that God loves gay
people and that they don’t have to act straight
for God to really love them.
In the early 80’s, Bruce Garner and I came out to Grace
Cathedral for the first Episcopal
AIDS conference. We were so inspired by what
we saw happen at the cathedral,
that we went back to the Bishop of Atlanta and
told him that we wanted to host
healing services in the cathedral, that we
wanted him to preside at the first one,
and that we wanted him to send out a
pastoral letter to the diocese indicating that
the Episcopal Church in north
Georgia was going to deal with this epidemic.
We were so overcome
with what had happened at Grace Cathedral that we never
considered not
walking in and telling the bishop what needed to happen. He was so
overcome
with our report that he agreed to it all. Ten years later, when Sue was
the
director of AIDS housing
in Atlanta in the early
90’s, we
went to an Episcopal AIDS
conference in Washington DC.
We, and everyone else there, were just
exhausted.
We were fighting a losing battle, people dying all over the place,
the government
baulking at funding anything of significance, it all felt futile
and at the same time
we knew we had to keep going. It felt like all we could do
was to just keep putting
one foot in front of the other. Into this gray morass
of a meeting came Steve Charleston,
Bishop of Alaska at the time. He literally
bounced in, shouting Good News, I bring you
good news. We looked at each other,
has a cure been found we wondered? We sat
forward on our seats, transfixed.
Good news, he said, God loves us, all of us,
just as we are, loving us into
God’s embrace. He stood up there and called us back
to ourselves, reminded us
of why we had gotten into this business in the first place,
reminded us that we
were lovers, that we loved those we served because God loved us.
In less than
an hour, he picked that entire conference up, and we went out from
that session
grinning, hugging each other, joyful, empowered.
Good news, I bring you good news. How are we to live in this
world? Like Jesus
told us, we are to turn the world on its head, taking power
by doing the unthinkable,
embracing the leper, loving our enemies, forgiving in
the face of death. How are we to
live in this world? Like the apostles, we are
to call others back to their true selves,
reminding them and ourselves in the
process, that we are lovers, that we love because
God has loved us. Good news,
I bring you good news.
And how are we supposed to get the energy to do this? Jesus
told the disciples,
wait in Jerusalem,
and you will be given power. At the end of the service, the deacon
or assisting
priest often says, go forth into the world, rejoicing in the power of
the
Holy
Spirit. Jesus told the disciples, I will baptize you with fire. They
prayed and
waited for the spirit of God to fill them, and boy, what an explosion!
How are we to live? We are to live in the Spirit, God’s
greatest gift to those who
will receive it. Jesus promises the Spirit to all
who ask, and it’s your choice.
So how do you want to live?