Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Loving the Unlovable (Reflections on Epiphany Seven, Year A)




“But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you…” (Matthew 5:44a)

Some time ago I was at a meeting with some of my fellow pastors and one of our colleagues shared about the struggles she was having with her recent divorce. Her ex was taking her to court and really being a total feminine hygiene product (metaphorically speaking) to her. I remember her saying with an air of mystified astonishment, “I never knew what it was to have an enemy before.”

Boy. That’s something I really wish I never experience. An actual, honest-to-Pete enemy. Someone who genuinely wishes you harm and will rejoice in your pain or embarrassment. Has there ever been anyone like that in your life? If there has been (or still is) I wish you all of God’s peace and spiritual power to deal with that individual and the hurtful feelings that person causes you.

Jesus is once again making a pretty tough demand on our sense of discipleship in the gospel lesson assigned for Epiphany 7, Year A (Matthew 5:38-48). When someone sets out determined to wound us physically or emotionally or any other sort of way, it’s a real female canine (again I speak metaphorically—my wife says I swear too much) not to want to wound them in return.

The demand on us is, I think, to substitute compassion for the woundedness of our enemy in place of the fear, hurt, rage, or disgust we’d naturally feel when someone has violated our sense of humanity. It’s no easy trick, but it has been accomplished. History is full of brain-blowing examples. There’s a famous story about a woman accosting President Abraham Lincoln when he discussed plans for the reconstruction of the vanquished southern states. Supposedly the woman rejected Lincoln’s talk of forgiveness and demanded to know if the purpose of war was not to destroy one’s enemies. To this Lincoln famously answered, “Madam, do I not destroy my enemy when I make him my friend?” Lincoln, Gandhi, Dr. King, and the Marshall Plan are all examples of compassion triumphing over a desire for revenge.

In our gospel lesson Jesus is referencing a really pretty darn good law from Exodus 21:23-25 which was an admonition against excessive revenge or retribution. According to ancient law, you weren’t supposed to cause more pain to your enemy than your enemy had caused you. That was supposed to keep things civilized—if you lost a tooth, just knock out only one of your enemy’s teeth. Be fair about it. But Jesus is calling us to an even more radical retribution—return hate with love. And, if we read on, we discover Jesus isn’t just talking about our feelings for enemies, but for people we might actually like who make us nuts, too. We’re supposed to show compassion for people who beg money from us or put demands on our time. Sometimes I’ll bet it’s easier to love enemies than to love the family members who constantly mooch off of us or suck us dry with their demands for help and attention.

It’s not enough just to tolerate or to forgive. We’re called to find a kind of love. I have this screwy notion that if we really seek this kind of righteousness, God is capable of putting it in our hearts (see Matthew 5:6). Some years ago I had a brief and rather unpleasant encounter with one of the neighborhood toughs who hang around my church. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon following a work party. Everyone had gone home and I was locking up the church. As I headed for my car in the parking lot I observed a young couple having a pretty violent argument on the sidewalk in front of the church. Small children were playing on our lawn, and the language the young man was using was not exactly fit for the ears of the young. I watched the argument progress, trying to look as intimidating as a 5’ 8” pastor could look. The fight got louder, and the boy started shaking his girlfriend by the arm and yanking at her T-shirt. I pulled out my cell phone, fearing that, should this ruckus escalate any further, it might be necessary to alert the officers of the law. As I did so, I noticed the boy put his hand on the girls face and gave her a shove. A little girl on the church lawn hollered out, “You’re not supposed to hit girls!”

This statement prompted two things: First, the boy began to curse at the little girl with as vile a collection of epithets as I’ve ever heard. Second, I began to realize that if a little girl could speak up for justice, a pastor should certainly do something about the violence against a woman being perpetrated right in front of him. So I headed down the driveway to confront this ruffian.

(This, in retrospect, was probably a bad idea.)

When I approached the couple, the young woman (as battered women are wont to do, I’m told) informed me that this was a private conversation and asked me to leave. I faced the young man and asked, “What’s the problem here?” At this, the brutish youngster proceeded to unleash his considerable command of verbal vulgarity on me. Before I could make reply, he bowed up his chest and bumped me a good three feet back. I should add at this point that the young man was shirtless, and so I had a good look at his physique. He had easily three times the muscle mass I had and he’d only had it half as long. A physical confrontation with him could only result in my being thumped into a wet spot on the pavement. Still, something about the attack brought out the stupid in me. I introduced myself as the pastor of the church.

“Pastor..!” screamed the youngster, “I don’t give a f--- about no pastor!! I’m the son of the f-----g devil!”

As he raved on, I just stood my ground. Two things occurred to me: First, unless I really provoked him, he probably wasn’t going to hit me. He’d have done so already if wanted to. Second, God opened my eyes to see a tremendous amount of pain and torment in this young person. I understood that some kind of emotional oppression had caused this great rage within him. I suddenly found that I was not afraid of this bully and I was not repulsed by him. I only felt sorry for him. Eventually, he walked away down the street, the young woman walking in the opposite direction.

We may encounter all sorts of enemies in our lives. Bullies, criminals, jealous contemporaries, or ex-lovers who turn their hurt and disappointment against us. But Jesus calls us to a journey of understanding—to a heart-breaking compassion such as our Father God has for us. This side of Heaven we may never reach it, but the attempt might bring us a little closer to God’s perfection.


God bless you, my perfect friends. Come again, please.

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