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| "Sermon on the Mount" Carl Bloch, 19th Cent. |
When he finished the talk and gave the next assignment, he quietly asked, “Owen? Could I see you at my desk for a moment?” I realized that he had not yet returned my paper, and, although I felt I’d done a pretty good job on it, I feared I too had disappointed him with my insipid prose. To my relief he returned my essay with very few correction marks and whispered, “You actually did very well on this, so I’m going to exempt you from the re-write assignment.” He then opened the bottom drawer of his desk and took out a small, battered, and dog-eared red paperback book. He handed it to me furtively, as if he were giving me a bag of weed. Indeed, that little volume was contraband, a volume not sanctioned by any school district back in the day. It was The Catcher in the Rye. Mr. Hollis said, “I think you might like this.” I did.
I’ve had great teachers and professors in my academic life, all of whom have been kind to me and have taught me great facts and skills. But Richard Hollis was the teacher who taught me how to organize thoughts on paper, how to see hidden or potential ideas, and how to present them in a clear and meaningful way. He was the teacher who taught me how to think.
Jesus is also a teacher who compels us to examine our ideas and question what we think we know. Let’s remember that Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount wasn’t really a sermon. It was a teachable moment for those who chose to be his pupils. Jesus the rabbi teaches us how to think and see things in a different and more profound way. The passage selected by the Revised Common Lectionary for Epiphany 6, Year A (Matthew5:21-37) is almost a master class in didacticism. Bible scholars call this part of the Sermon the antitheses—that is, Jesus states a thesis and then presents a different view.
Like a good salesman, Jesus starts by getting us to say, “yes.” Murder is bad, right? We shouldn’t go around killing people, right? But what about hate or anger? What about insults which dehumanize another person? Don’t these attitudes and behaviors come from the same place as murder? Aren’t they just mini murders? Are they less of a sin because no human life is lost? Aren’t we all murderers in some way?
And what about adultery? Yes, we all agree we shouldn’t go stepping out on our spouses. But what about lust? Is the thought of infidelity as damaging as the deed? Doesn’t such a thought intimate a crack in a sacred relationship? Or, should we have no partner to whom we may be disloyal, doesn’t the wandering eye make its object into a thing for our own gratification and deny the essential humanity of the one after whom it lusts?
Are there such things as big or little sins? Or is a sin just a sin? It’s tempting—isn’t it?—to be able to look down on those whom we consider to be “bigger sinners” than we ourselves are, but Jesus’ teaching compels us to think about our own ideas and actions. We’re forced to recognize that, as we sit in our pews on Sunday morning, we’re surrounded by our fellow murderers and adulterers. The knowledge of our sin, as Martin Luther would remind us, drives us back to our need for God’s forgiving grace. Possibly, if we see ourselves as sinners and have compassion for our own shortcomings, the knowledge of our sin will create in us a sense of compassion for others. Perhaps we will be driven to be less judgmental and more understanding.
As a teacher, Jesus is always pushing us to look beyond the surface. You’ll notice whenever Jesus is questioned, he rarely gives a straight answer. He often answers questions with more questions, causing the questioner to go deeper and examine his own motives. We don't betray or deny our faith when we question it; rather, we participate in it.
Jesus even questioned the accepted teachings of his day. He acknowledges that divorce was certainly legal, but he challenges his pupils to question whether or not it was ethical. This issue takes a little explanation, and we should certainly look at it in light of the time in which the story takes place. Divorce was a controversial hot topic in Jesus’ time—not unlike abortion or LGBTQ rights are today[i]. Some Jews figured it was perfectly acceptable to kick their wives to the curb if they found something displeasing in her. This could result in the women becoming destitute. Jesus is actually standing up for women’s rights when he denounces this cavalier practice. It may be legal, but it’s still a breach of faith.[ii]
But then we have to ask, is it right to look down on divorced folks if we’re all adulterers in some way? And if Jesus denounced divorce to protect the women, shouldn’t we encourage divorce if a woman is in an abusive relationship?
Just as my old English teacher taught me to look at how I presented ideas, Jesus in this passage encourages us to consider the things we say and how we say them. Remember that most people in Jesus’ time weren’t all that literate. A verbal vow was taken as a contract. Jesus asks us to consider our behavior, our intentions, and our respect for God’s divinity. If we say “yes,” it should be yes. Our character, example, and respect for the truth makes anything more unnecessary.
As Christians we are life-long learners. Our classroom is the Bible and being in daily conversation with Jesus.
Thanks for stopping by this week.
[i]
See Matthew 19:1-12. This issue keeps cropping up.
[ii]
Bible scholars think the line about “unchastity” being grounds for divorce was
added later. It doesn’t appear in the parallel verses in Mark (Mk 10:11-12) or
Luke (Lk 16:18). The Greek word for adultery is moicheia. The word used for “unchastity” is porneias (the same root word from which our word pornography
comes). This was probably a caveat for divorce added by early Jewish Christians
to allow non-Jewish converts to divorce from incestuous marriages permitted in
their own culture but distasteful to Jews.
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