Love in a Time of Partisanship: A Sermon for 23 October 2011

St. Luke's Chapel, Grambling, La.

In last Sunday’s Gospel lesson, the Pharisees had sent their disciples to try to trap Jesus in what he said. They asked him a question about taxes, a contentious issue then as it is now. Surely a question about taxes would get Jesus into trouble with somebody, no matter how he answered it!

Today seems to be “pop quiz day.” The Pharisees seek to “test” Jesus, and, again, they pick an ideal topic: The Law (Matthew 22:34-44 NRSV). We can almost hear the wheels turning in their minds. A question about the law will surely trip up this peasant from Galilee!

Now when I announce a pop quiz in one of my classes, I am typically met with widespread moaning and groaning. But Jesus—ever on top of the situation—has a ready answer. It is succinct and clear, and reduces the complexity of the law to two truly memorable mandates. We’ll come back to those mandates shortly, but for a moment I want to consider further the Pharisees and what they are up to.

Barbara Crafton is an Episcopal priest who writes an online meditation (The Almost Daily eMo). Writing on today’s lesson, she suggests that we modern Christians tend to forget that the Gospels were written at a time of partisanship within Judaism.

That is, followers of Jesus were a “party” within Judaism and what they believed was deemed heresy by mainstream Jews. The Pharisees were leaders of the orthodox party. They studied Torah, God’s Law and covenant with the Jewish people. (The Sadducees were temple priests and a third party within Judaism, but I’m not going to say more about them this morning, lest we need a score card to keep track of things.)
                               

Simchat Torah

These parties within Judaism thoroughly mistrusted each other. Little wonder then that the Pharisees questioned Jesus! Likewise, little wonder that the Gospel writers, left to carry on the work of the followers-of-Jesus party after his death and resurrection, tend to cast the Pharisees in a negative light, and to show Jesus handily defeating them at every turn.

And because the Gospel writers disliked the Pharisees, we think we should too. 
 
But we are misguided in our dislike of the Pharisees. They are the forerunners, not only of rabbinic Judaism as we know it today, but of those men and women we call Biblical scholars who contribute so much to our understanding of Holy Scripture.

Moreover, Jesus was not the first to reduce the complexity of the law to a clear, concise statement of concern for one’s neighbor. A few decades before Jesus’ time of teaching and preaching, a rabbi by the name of Hillel was challenged by a would-be convert to Judaism to explain the law while standing on one foot.

It’s hard to say what the challenger’s motive might have been. Perhaps he hoped Rabbi Hillel would not be able to meet the challenge and he would then be justified in giving up on the project of becoming a believer. Or, perhaps he was genuinely tired of long, complicated explications and really needed a simple understanding of the faith he was interested in—one that could be given while standing on one foot!

Either way, Rabbi Hillel met the challenge. He immediately raised one foot off the ground and said, That which is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the whole Torah; the rest is commentary. Go and study it.

So when the Pharisees test Jesus, he too is prepared with a standing-on-one-foot summary of the law. First he says, You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. 

And we recognize that as a theme of Hebrew Scripture. Many places in what we call the Old Testament, the people of Israel are commanded to love and commit themselves fully and only to the one and only God, the God of their ancestors, the God who brought them out of bondage in Egypt.

But then Jesus ups the ante over Rabbi Hillel. He says, And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.

In other words, where Rabbi Hillel says don’t be hateful toward your neighbor, Jesus says LOVE your neighbor, and not a little bit but just as much as you love yourself. Care as much about the wellbeing of your neighbor as you care about your own.

Now Jesus is, in fact, quoting a passage from Leviticus when he says love your neighbor as yourself, but the bulk of Torah is devoted to other things: Property laws to ensure fairness in society, holiness laws for keeping oneself pure, laws about how and where to worship God, and so forth.

So when Jesus makes “love your neighbor as yourself” the second most important commandment, he is taking a radical stand. And he is upping the ante over the standard teaching and practice of mainstream religion in his day.

Many people—not just the Jews of old but many people today—want to turn Holy Scripture into a rulebook that covers all sorts of things: Taxes, who can marry whom, what kind of government a country should have, what kind of economic system a society should have, which countries are justified in forcing their political and economic systems on others, and on and on, ad nauseum.

But Jesus gave us just two mandates in his 1-minute, standing-on-one-foot interpretation of all of Holy Scripture: Love God with all your heart, soul and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.

Pretty simple, huh? Straightforward, direct, no conditions to remember, no complicated formulas to memorize. Just… love God and your neighbor as yourself.

So… how is that working for us? How are we doing with this command to love unconditionally in our own time of partisanship, both within the church and in the larger society?
                 

My Team vs. Your Team

With a presidential election just around the corner, we hear daily from politicians who are quite certain, on the one hand, that God is behind their candidacy, their platform, their agenda. Yet in the next breath they are equally certain we can’t afford to provide health care to all, that educating all of our children equally well is too costly, that the Mexicans who pick our fruit and pluck our chickens ought to be summarily kicked out, if not shot dead on the spot. And they have a following—a wildly enthusiastic following—people who applaud when they say these things and boo when a gay soldier ready to die for their freedom says he’s tired of living in a closet.

Turns out this mandate to love—completely, unconditionally, in our own time of partisanship—is much easier to say and to preach than to live.

But remember that Jesus ultimately and finally upped the ante on his own words. Ultimately and finally, with his own death on the cross, he says loving God and your neighbor is not enough. Be willing to die for them as well.              

  AMEN

Image & Likeness: A Sermon for 16 October 2011

Christ Church, St. Joseph, La.

In today’s Gospel lesson (Matthew 22:15-22, NRSV), the Pharisees are once again up to no good. They’re still trying to trap Jesus in what he says. 

They have been playing this game for a while now. In fact, I Googled the question, “How many times did the Pharisees try to trap Jesus?” but apparently no one has thought to count them. At least Google didn’t come up with an answer!

On this particular occasion, they send their disciples, perhaps in the hope that the disciples will do better, perhaps just because they are tired of public embarrassment.

“The Herodians,” by the way, are followers of King Herod, who want more than to trap Jesus. They want to kill him. This Jesus of Nazareth is a serious threat to the seats of power, both the seat of religious power, as represented by the Pharisees, and the seat of political power, as represented by the Herodians.

So… the game in today’s story is entrapment, and this time the Pharisees try a question about—heaven help us—taxes. 
                                     

Making the Sign of the Cross

I wonder how many good Christians across this country and around the globe are taking the bait this very morning!

You see, I think what the Pharisees were really up to was trying to get Jesus “off message.” That is, the Good News Jesus proclaimed, the central message he preached over and over again, was so threatening and so troubling to the religious mainstream, that the Pharisees sought over and over again to get him to talk about something else—to go “off message.”

In today’s lesson, that something else is taxes, and it is excellent bait. Who doesn’t have an opinion about taxes? Then and now, everybody… has an opinion… about taxes!

The Roman tax referenced by this passage was particularly controversial. Some of the Hebrew people believed that, as a matter of practicality if nothing else, it simply should be paid. Others believed that to pay taxes to the Roman oppressor was an act of collaboration with the enemy.

And so the Pharisees, thinking they had posed a simple “yes or no” question, just  knew that whichever way Jesus answered the question, he was going to be in trouble with somebody.

Interestingly enough, many people today seem to think that Jesus actually answered the question. I’m guessing, in churches across the country and around the globe this morning, preachers are using this passage to endorse their particular political view about taxes.

Certainly, a few minutes of searching the Internet will produce serious commentary going both directions. Some say, yes, this passage supports the paying of taxes. Others say, no, this passage really says that taxes are of the world and of political systems, and that those who belong to God are obligated only to tithe or give their money to charity. One source I found even argued that this story was Jesus’ coded encouragement to the Israelites to refuse to cooperate with Rome.

But notice that the representatives of the Pharisees and the Herodians understood that Jesus had once again skillfully sidestepped their question. Rather than pounce on his answer, as they had hoped to be able to do, they turn and walked away in amazement. They had been outwitted. Jesus stayed “on message.”

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could get Jesus to answer for us today the vexing question of taxes? Who should pay them, how much, etc. I certainly know how I wish Jesus would answer that question!

But when we humans co-opt passages of Holy Scripture in order to line them up behind, and in support of, our various cultural, social and political orientations and opinions, we are not only getting “off message,” we are taking the name of our Lord God in vain.

And this truly is one of the most troubling aspects of our politics today: That various and sundry politicians lay claim to having God behind their candidacy, their platform, their agenda.

So… Jesus deflects the trick question by pointing out the obvious—that coins minted by a government have symbols of governmental power imprinted on them—very often the image and likeness of a person of power within that government. Then he enigmatically suggests that whatever belongs to Caesar should be given back to Caesar.., leaving them and us to wonder what, in fact, belongs to Caesar: Every coin that bears his likeness? Only some? Perhaps none?

And isn’t it interesting that Jesus himself did not have a coin. He had to ask for one. But, of course, Jesus spent his short life teaching against materialism. He never owned the kind of property the tax was levied against.

It’s almost as if the whole subject is just plain distracting and tiresome to Jesus. He dispenses with the question then drives home once again his own message: Give to God the things that are God’s.

Who can hear this story—either ancient Hebrew or contemporary Christian—without hearing the words of Genesis echo in our heart and mind? We know that we are made in the image and likeness of God.
                    

Hands of God and Adam

                                      
And from Genesis through the New Testament, that message resounds: We are made in the image and likeness of God. We are God’s people and the sheep of his pasture. He abides in us so that we can abide in Him.

Unlike the identical stampings of symbols of power on coins, each of us is a unique person, yet each of us is made in the image and likeness of God.

Jesus stays “on message”: You belong to God, he reminds us. Give back to God what belongs to God.

Moreover, the image and likeness of God is not stamped on our surface. It is not skin color, or shape of the nose, or gender. Rather, the image and likeness of God is planted within us. We call it Holy Spirit, and it is that homing device that dwells within each of us and keeps us turned toward God.

Many people want to turn Holy Scripture into a rulebook that covers all sorts of things. Not just taxes, but who can marry whom and what kind of government a country should have and what kind of economic system a society should have and on and on, ad nauseum.

Jesus gave us just two, and they follow directly from the understanding that we belong to God. For when we love God, and our neighbors as ourselves, we are giving back to God.. that which came from God.. and belongs to God..

AMEN

 

Child of God: A Sermon for 25 September 2011

Christ Church, St. Joseph, La.

Today’s parable from Matthew (21:23-32, NRSV) follows last Sunday’s parable by just a few verses. The Master is still presiding over the vineyard.

In the time of Jesus, wine was drunk with most meals. It was the safest thing to drink. Thus the Master of the vineyard was in the business of providing a major necessity of everyday life.

Today wine is not a major necessity of life, at least not for those of us who have safe drinking water. Yet we value it highly, first because of its role in our sacramental life, but also as a special drink we willingly pay for--sometimes handsomely. So Jesus’ imagery continues to resonate.

Today’s story about the Master’s sons and the vineyard struck close to home for me. Up in Ouachita Parish we are privileged to have a real, honest-to-goodness functioning vineyard. It came about when Hurricane Katrina chased Jeff Landry out of south Louisiana. He found a lovely piece of hilly land west of West Monroe and planted his vines.

Landry’s Vineyard thrives, I believe in part because Jeff’s business plan seems to involve inviting the locals to become part of the family and get hands-on involved in the operation. 

Libby & Jeff Landry, Landry Vineyards, Ouachita Parish

Thus when it is time to pick the grapes, Jeff doesn’t hire a professional crew of grape pickers. Rather, he invites everyone and anyone to come on out on the chosen Saturdays, pick grapes for as long as you want or are able, then return for an evening of festivities that includes wine tasting, of course, plus Louisiana cuisine and live music, and even stomping grapes, if you are so inclined.

Back in late August, I decided to help with the red grape harvest. I even told several friends that I was going to be there come Saturday morning to help pick those grapes. After all, I love red wine!

But, you guessed it: Come Saturday morning, it was hot, hot, hot. I was tired from a week of I don’t remember what…. It just didn’t seem so important to hop out of bed early and go out into the sun, on that steep hillside, among those vines that probably harbored mosquitoes and who knows what all, and pick those grapes. I didn’t show.

We have all been the son or daughter who said “yes,” then didn’t do what we said we would do. For any number of reasons, some good, some not so good, we all at least occasionally agree to do things that we ultimately do not do.

But, you know what? We have also all been the son or daughter who said “no.” No, I don’t have time. No, I have a scheduling conflict. No, I’m no good at that. Etc., etc. Then we thought better of it, or we made some time, or we simply felt guilty, and we went and did what we thought we couldn’t or wouldn’t do.

Moreover, more times than not, we are the son or daughter Jesus doesn’t mention in this story—the one that says “yes”… and then is good to that word. That’s the ideal we uphold, and even though we don’t always achieve it, I’m pretty confident that most of us most of the time are people of our word.

We say “no” only when we must. We say “yes” most of the time, perhaps too often for our own good, and most of the time, we do what we say we’ll do.

So why didn’t Jesus put these ideal children in his story? What is the lesson of this story for us, given that most of us know that on any given day we could be either of these sons, both of whom need an attitude adjustment, but that on most days we strive to be the ideal child who is not in the story?

Perhaps you’ve noticed that I’ve completely passed over, so far, one set of characters who… well, are they part of this story or not? What IS the connection between this story about the Master of the vineyard and his two sons, and these Pharisees standing around questioning Jesus about his authority?

At first blush, there appears to be none. The Pharisees try to trick Jesus. Jesus quickly turns the tables on them. Jesus launches into a story.

We can readily see ourselves in either and both of the sons who insult their father by not being men of their word. But we’re not too upset by that because we also know that we are often the missing ideal child.

But… and here’s where it gets uncomfortable: What if we’re the Pharisees?

Could it be that the Pharisees are those “ideal” children missing from the story? The good church people of the day who strive to be good to their word… but who then forget the times they said “yes” and didn’t show?

The good church people of the day who say “no” because, after all, they have businesses to take care of and a family and lifestyle to maintain, and they really don’t have time to feed the poor and welcome the stranger—who are surely lazy or illegal anyway?

The good church people of the day who become so full of themselves and their many good deeds that they come to think themselves better than all those sinners out there who just can’t seem to get their act together?

The Pharisees in this story stand for us when we are hypocritical and self- righteous, when we forget that we are sinners in need of mercy too.

A drunk man who smelled like beer sat down on a subway seat next to a priest. The man's tie was stained, his face plastered with red lipstick, and a half-empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket. He opened his newspaper and began to read.



After a few minutes the man turned to the priest and asked, 'Say Father, what causes arthritis?'



The priest replied, 'My son, it's caused by loose living, too much alcohol, contempt for your fellow man, sleeping around with prostitutes and lack of a bath.' 

The drunk muttered, 'Well, I'll be damned,' and returned to his paper.



The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and apologized. 'I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to come on so strong. How long have you had arthritis?'



The drunk answered, 'I don't have it, Father. I was just reading here that the Pope does.' (Internet joke, contributed by Edge of the Enclosure)

Those who would enjoy the bounty of the Master’s Vineyard, better get used to rubbing elbows with drunks and prostitutes. For they are variations on Child of God just like you and me, and the Master sees through ALL of our false selves.                                                                    

AMEN