Sunday, February 19, 2017

Jesus and the Promise (A SERMON)

Sunday, February 19, 2017
For the Baptism of 2-year-old Hallie Drew
Matthew 5

1.

Friends, already this morning you have made an unusually bold and (many might say) foolish promise.  That’s right, you.  Peace United Church.  Right here around this font.  It all began innocently enough.  When you promised to listen with curiosity to Hallie Drew’s stories and dreams.  Because that’s something we know how to do.  Because that’s something that makes sense.  We promise to listen to our children.  We promise to pay attention to their dreams.  And we’ll do that for Hallie Drew.

But you went a step farther than that.  You also promised to build with her, with Hallie Drew and Charlee Rose and their amazing moms, a church of grace and courage.  Right here among us.  I’ve got the paper to prove it.  “To build with her a church of grace and courage.”  And that gets kind of dicey—doesn’t it—when Jesus gets around to describing what grace and courage mean in the kingdom of God.  What grace and courage mean in the kingdom of God.
Baton Rouge, 2016

You see, Jesus isn’t just talking about generic grace or easy grace or even Merriam Webster grace.  And he’s not just talking about John Wayne courage or Luke Skywalker courage or even Tom Brady-in-the-Super Bowl courage.  “If anyone strikes you on the right cheek,” he says (and I’ve got the paper on this too).  “If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.  And if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well.  And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile.”  Jesus is asking us, Jesus is asking the church to get creative in the midst of conflict.  Not to avoid it, not to run from it, not to expect a perfect world.  But to get creative in the midst of conflict.  To surprise the aggressor by turning the other cheek and facing him straight on.  To challenge the oppressor by going the extra mile and insisting on conversation.

See what I mean about grace and courage?  If we’re going to build with Hallie Drew and Charlee Rose a church of grace and courage, we’re going to have to step up our game.  We’re going to have to rise up and live out the radically loving, unreasonably inclusive, courageously countercultural message of the gospel.  Because I got it right here.  It’s right here in the book.  “God makes his sun rise on the evil and the good.  And she sends her rain and wonder and grace and thunder on the righteous and the unrighteous.”

We get understandably excited, and more than a little agitated, by Jesus’ ethic in the Sermon on the Mount.  By his insistence on love and forgiveness and nonviolence and generosity.  But it’s all rooted, it’s all grounded in his theology.  Who God is for Jesus.  How God is for Jesus.  “God makes his sun rise on the evil and the good.  And she sends her rain and wonder and grace and thunder on the righteous and the unrighteous.”  Radical grace demands radical courage.  Boundless love calls forth boundless love.

And that’s the church we’ve promised to build with Hallie Drew this morning.  The Sermon on the Mount church.   The boundless love church.  The pray-for-those-who-persecute-you church.  We’ve promised to build a church that surprises aggressors by turning the other cheek.  We’ve promised to build a church that challenges oppressors by going the extra mile.  We’ve promised to build a church that is every bit as bold, every bit as daring, every bit as compassionate—as God is compassionate.

2.
Because here’s the thing.  Jesus expects us to get into trouble.  Let’s say that again.  Jesus expects us to get into trouble.  If we’re standing shoulder to shoulder with the poor and the homeless and the frightened, Jesus expects that things are going to get difficult.  If we’re advocating for transgender kids and undocumented immigrants and Muslim neighbors in Trump’s America, Jesus expects that things are going to get difficult.  He anticipates for us, with us, conflicts in our everyday discipleship.  It’s going to get real.  And it’s going to be hard.

And this is not a call—this gospel of ours--this is not a call to passive-ism.  It never was for Jesus.  And it’s certainly not for you and me.  It’s not a call to passive-ism.  Turning the other cheek means turning toward the ruthless, the violent, the powerful and insisting on relationship.  Turning the other cheek means receiving the blow but defying intimidation, looking the bully in the eye, and believing in a future beyond violence and brutishness.

What we’re promising to build with Hallie Drew and Charlee Rose and my daughters and your sons and all those students at UCSC who count on us...what we’re promising to build is a church that stands up to oppression and oppressors and learns to turn the other cheek when they strike.  Not in a passive way.  But in a courageous, I’m not going away way.  When our leaders try to ban Muslims and fan the flames of hate, we receive the blow, we feel the pain.  But then we turn the other cheek, we look those same leaders in the eye.  And we say, NO.  You will not fan the flames of hate in our community.  And we speak honestly and bravely and compassionately of justice for all, and protection for Muslim friends, and we commit ourselves to solidarity and friendship.

To turn the other cheek is resistance, right?  To go the extra mile is resistance.

And when security forces raid immigrant neighborhoods, and break down the doors of immigrant homes, we receive the blow, we feel the pain.  But then we turn the other cheek, we look those same agents, and the government that send them, in the eye.  And we say, NO.  You will not break up families and frighten children in our community.  You will not fan the flames of racism and xenophobia here.  And we go.  We go to our frightened neighbors.  We go to their neighborhoods and homes and keep them company.  And offer our own homes, our own churches as sanctuary when they need safe places, safe spaces and good friends.

To turn the other cheek is resistance, right?  To go the extra mile is resistance.

You see what I mean.  This is not a call to passive-ism.  This is not a call to weakness and retreat.  This is love.  This is faith.  One more example.  When states like North Carolina and Texas legislate homophobia, when they try to embed homophobia in their schools and codes and institutions, we hurt with friends and allies in those states.  We hurt with friends and allies in any community where bigotry and hatred take root and find institutional blessing.  We receive the blow, we feel the pain.  But then we turn the other cheek and we look the fundamentalist bullies in the eye.  And we say, NO.  You will not divide us.  NO.  You will not dismiss us.  And we will fight for the rights of transgender friends, and we will honor and cherish the marriages of all our gay and lesbian friends, and we will protect families of all kinds because that’s what Jesus insists we do as his disciples, as his friends, as children of God. 

You see, Jesus expects we’ll get into trouble along the way.  That’s where this morning’s teaching is coming from.  Jesus expects we’ll find ourselves in strange and befuddling predicaments.  He expects we’ll find ourselves face to face with bullies and aggressors.  And he expects will have to dig deep, to rely on spiritual maturity and compassion, to call on courage and grace and humor in the midst of it all.  And that’s what we’re promising to Hallie Drew and her family and my daughter and her family and your sons and your family today.  We’re promising to build a church of such love that our children will face an angry world with a tender heart.  We’re promising to build a church of such resilience that they’ll face an uncertain future with an impenetrable joy.

I stumbled across an article in THE GUARDIAN this week, with an interview with the noted psychiatrist James Gordon.  And he was discussing the impact of the Trump presidency on all of us, and on our sense of awareness around our own values and purpose.  And what Dr. Gordon said in the interview struck me as so important, so vital for us on the spiritual path.  Here’s the quote: “Trump’s grand and vulgar self-absorption is inviting all of us to examine our own selfishness.”  That’s just the first sentence.  It’s bigger than that.  “Trump’s grand and vulgar self-absorption is inviting all of us to examine our own selfishness.  His ignorance calls us to attend to our own blind spots.  The fears he stokes and the isolation he promotes goad us to be braver, more generous.”
That’s us, friends.  That’s the church.   That’s our calling:  yours, mine, Martita’s, Nicole’s, Hallie Drew’s and Charlee Rose’s.  We are called to be loving and kind and creative and humble.  We are called to examine our own lives—even our own selfishness with humility and grace.  And then we are called to be braver and more generous than ever.  To resist oppression in every form.  To insist on relationship and community and justice for all.  We are called to be the body of Christ in the world.  Going the extra mile for love.
Amen.