Monday, September 11, 2017

Sermon for the 14th Sunday after Pentecost

Preached at Grace and Canadochly on September 10, 2017
Scripture text: Matthew 18:15-20

In the classic film Casablanca, Louis, the corrupt Vichy French police officer played by Claude Rains, gets annoyed at the lead character Rick (played by Humphrey Bogart) after he helps a young couple in need. “You’re a sentimentalist.” He accuses Rick, who seems to pride himself on his cynicism and apathy. A man who seems to care for no one and nothing now being accused of caring too much. It’s a ridiculous accusation on the surface.



But, I imagine many of you have seen the film so you know full well that Louis’ insult is correct. Rick is involved in one of the greatest love stories told on film. He does care...deeply, about other people, despite his gruff exterior. His concern allows the rebel leader Victor Lazlo to escape German captivity. His love is strong enough even to let go the woman he loves so she can flee with her husband.


I was thinking about that insult when I was looking over today’s Scripture lessons and it occurs to me that you could very easily accuse me of being a “sentimentalist.” I confess. You’ve got me. I talk about love all the time in these sermons. About God’s love. About our love that we’re meant to have for one another and our neighbor. In fact, you could probably argue that the only people who talk about love more than me are songwriters and romance novelists. One of you, some weeks ago, came up to me after worship and said, “I get the feeling you want us to know God loves us.” Yes, yes, I do.


But as anyone who has been in a long-term relationship with anyone else can attest, love is hard. We’ve all been there. Times when we’re so angry at our spouse we just want to....(insert illegal behavior here). Times when we’re frustrated with our siblings or our parents. Times when our friends are just being idiots about this thing or that. Heh. Sarah’s been out of town most of this week and Emily has taken the absence of her mother as license to push the boundaries a bit. How much can she get away with?
"Where were you?"

"At friend’s house."

"Why didn’t you tell me beforehand? You have a phone. Text me."

"Uh...I forgot."


SMH (as the internet would say). And then there’s the dog. Lucy has contracted some sort of intestinal disorder, so she’s not in complete control of her bowels at the moment. My new town house now stinks of dog mess. ARRRGHH!!!!

I now know why this emoji exists.

I love them both, but...boy, it’s hard sometimes. And these are the ones that the easiest to love. A daughter and a beloved pet. But God calls us to do more. God calls us to love strangers. God calls us to love enemies. God calls us to love people who have hurt us. And that’s all the more harder.


And that is the topic of our Gospel lesson. Here Jesus provides something of a guide on how to love someone who has hurt you. Despite coming from Jesus’ own lips, it’s a not a perfect model. It is not one size fits all, like the church has often claimed it to be. It presumes that two people involved are peers, roughly equals in most ways.


The model falls apart when there is a power differential between them. I cannot use this to call out a politician for the harm their policies have done me, because they have more power than me. A child cannot use this on a parent, because they have more power. And, perhaps most dramatic of all, an abuse victim cannot use this with their abuser. It doesn’t work.


But I’m not sure that was Jesus’ intent. I don’t think this was meant to be the mechanism whereby all disputes between two people can be resolved. But what it does provide for us is a model in spirit of how to go about dealing with such problems. There are actually two goals stated in this procedure as Jesus has outlined it. One is to find reconciliation between the feuding parties. That’s obviously the ideal outcome. The sin is repented and never inflicted again. But there’s another more hidden one. And that’s to never let this agreement turn love into hatred. And that’s what kicks in when things don’t go ideally. When the sin isn’t repented and things continue as they were.


Let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.” Jesus says of such people. And how does Jesus treat Gentiles and tax collectors? By loving them. By inviting them into the kingdom. By calling them to repentance. By telling them the Gospel. By healing them. By teaching them. By recognizing that no one, no matter how great their sin, is beyond redemption.


And that’s hard. That’s really hard. But the model Jesus provides also gives us something that makes it a little bit easier. It’s not us alone against our victimizer. Not us alone against our enemy. It’s the whole church there to help. It’s our fellow Christians standing by our side. Love is the goal here. Love for the victim and love for the victimizer.


We love the victim by protecting them. Guarding them. Keeping them safe. We love the victimizer by being the voice that calls for repentance. By telling the victimizer, you cannot do this anymore. It is not acceptable. It is not right. It is not just.


We love people of color by trying to change our racist society, by standing with them in the midst of their trials. And we love the people of the KKK by calling them to change their ways and surrender their hate. That’s hard.


We love the people victimized by ISIS by allowing them to flee to our country as refugees, by giving them food, shelter, and safety. And we love the people in ISIS by showing them the error of their ways and allowing them to surrender their hostility and anger. That’s hard.


We love the battered spouse by getting her to safety, by providing for her needs. And we love her abuser by telling him “This is not acceptable. You cannot do this to people,” and demanding they change. That’s hard.


It’s hard because it doesn’t always work. It’s hard because people don’t easily repent. It’s hard because hate, anger, vice, and violence are addictive in their own ways. It’s hard because people are selfish. We hate being wrong. We feel all our actions, even our worst vices, are somehow justified. And if we’re so reluctant to give up our worst behaviors, so too are they.


Let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.” We’re called to keep trying, to do what we must for the sake of those we are called to love. And we are called to never let our frustration with them grow into anger or hatred. All that is hard. But it’s who we’re meant to be.


Martin Luther King, a man who knew a thing or two about being abused and victimized by others, once gave a sermon on loving your enemies.


He talked about how hard it is to love one’s enemies when they spit in your face, when the sic the dogs on you, when they knock you off your feet with fire hoses. But, he said there are reasons to love even in the midst of that. “The first reason,” he said, “that we should love our enemies, and I think this was at the very center of Jesus’ thinking, is this: that hate for hate only intensifies the existence of hate and evil in the universe.” None of us want that.


He also said, “There’s another reason why you should love your enemies, and that is because hate distorts the personality of the hater...You can’t see straight when you hate. You can’t walk straight when you hate. You can’t stand upright. Your vision is distorted. There is nothing more tragic than to see an individual whose heart is filled with hate... For the person who hates, the beautiful becomes ugly and the ugly becomes beautiful. For the person who hates, the good becomes bad and the bad becomes good. For the person who hates, the true becomes false and the false becomes true. That’s what hate does.”


He also said. “Now there is a final reason I think that Jesus says, "Love your enemies." It is this: that love has within it a redemptive power. And there is a power there that eventually transforms individuals. That’s why Jesus says, "Love your enemies." Because if you hate your enemies, you have no way to redeem and to transform your enemies. But if you love your enemies, you will discover that at the very root of love is the power of redemption. You just keep loving people and keep loving them, even though they’re mistreating you. Here’s the person who is a neighbor, and this person is doing something wrong to you and all of that. Just keep being friendly to that person. Keep loving them. Don’t do anything to embarrass them. Just keep loving them, and they can’t stand it too long. Oh, they react in many ways in the beginning. They react with bitterness because they’re mad because you love them like that. They react with guilt feelings, and sometimes they’ll hate you a little more at that transition period, but just keep loving them. And by the power of your love they will break down under the load. That’s love, you see. It is redemptive, and this is why Jesus says love. There’s something about love that builds up and is creative. There is something about hate that tears down and is destructive. So love your enemies.


Wise words from a man who had every reason to hate, but chose not to. He modeled his savior, who from the very cross cried out “Father, forgive them.” That is who we are called to be, no matter how hard. Amen.

(Pastor's Note: The MLK sermon I quote above is his sermon preached at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, Montgomery, Alabama, on 17 November 1957. It's well worth the read or, better yet, the listen.)

No comments:

Post a Comment