Thursday, March 27, 2014

Christ Blind

Wednesday Evening Lenten Series, St. Patrick's Episcopal Church, West Monroe, La., 26 March 2014

As a deacon who does not preach all that often, I have become convinced that a small band of mischievous angels rigs the preaching-text lottery so that I am sure to draw the shortest straw—the most challenging text—every single time.

Or so it seems! I am quite certain that band of angels is sitting on the edge of a cloud dangling their feet and waiting gleefully for the deacon to paint herself into a corner tonight.

You are familiar with the concept, “the letter of the law.” It refers to the exact and literal interpretation and application of the law, as it is written, down to the last letter.

It is often contrasted with “the spirit of the law,” which means to privilege the general intent of the law, thereby allowing for a more open, less strict interpretation and application of it.

Tonight, speaking to us through Matthew, Jesus seems to be upping the ante. He’s not content with insisting on merely the letter of the law. He wants to invoke and impose on us the separate strokes that make up each and every letter of the law! 

I have come not to abolish but to fulfill, he says. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter will pass from the law… 

Yikes! This sounds like Jesus with a big ole Sheriff’s badge pinned to his chest!

One of my first thoughts on reading it is, “Boy, are we ever behind on stonings!” I mean, I’m sure I’m not the only person in the room who divorced and re-married. And Jesus himself said that’s adultery, and we all know what the law says is the penalty for adultery!

So.. we’re way behind on stonings.

And yet….  ridiculous as that sounds, and as much as this passage makes me squirm, I am astounded over and over again at how useful it can be.., how readily we humans—indeed, we Christians—invoke it…. for the purpose of applying the letter of the law… to someone else.

You see, that’s the key. We are much more likely to invoke this passage to justify using the law.. to beat up… somebody else.

Not so very long ago, a prominent member of our community gave an interview to a prominent national publication, in which he said some things that quickly became prominently controversial. So controversial that it appeared, for a time, that he was going to lose his job as star of a huge hit TV show.
              
Arizona law legalizes discrimination against LGBT people.
Phil Robertson’s comments bothered me. Quite a lot, actually, because in my day job, I see and deal with the consequences of young gay people who have been told they are sinful by nature.., more sinful by nature than the rest of us, and that they cannot inherit the kingdom of God.. if they dare to be--fully--who they know themselves to be.

I was even more troubled by the movement that quickly broke out on Facebook to make Robertson a folk hero, and to cheer him on in his use of the law to judge homosexual people. Not to mention adulterers like me, although most people didn’t seem to notice that.

And in the sound and fury that broke out between Robertson’s defenders and his critics, the law—God’s law, or some interpretation thereof—got used as a club by both groups.

“He’s a hypocrite,” cries a critic, “how can he say he loves Jesus after dehumanizing people.” 

“But he’s quoting the Bible,” protests a defender. And on it raged.

As the saying goes, There’s nobody quite as mean as people being mean for Jesus. 

When we read about Moses demanding obedience to the law, or when we approach a passage like this one in Matthew, we are all too easily hooked by our human tendency to really, really want to make all the world behave according to our standards and our moral code.

After all, we’re good church people! We work hard at being obedient. Here we are in church on a lovely Wednesday evening because it’s Lent!

And so we encounter a passage like this…. and we go straight to the letter of the law… brushing past, scarcely noticing that here—right here—Jesus lays claim to his role as fulfiller of the law.

He wraps himself in it like a politician wrapping him/herself in the flag. He claims, absorbs and thereby transforms the law.

So if you want to know the shape of the law, look at Jesus. If you want to know what the law requires, look at what Jesus did. If you want to know how the law treats people, look at how Jesus treated people.

How could we have missed that for so long! It’s really pretty simple. But we want to turn it into a matter of what we believe, a matter of having the right values, or subscribing to the right doctrine or reading the right Bible the right way.

Our Bishop—who has a way with words—gave us a new way of talking about this when he was here three weeks ago for our first Wednesday Lenten service. He spoke of going “Christ blind” three times in response to the behavior of other drivers on his trip from Alexandria to Monroe.

When we use the law to cudgel other people into being who we think they should be and behaving the way we think they should behave, we are Christ blind.                       

Now here’s the clincher. What I really, really want to say right now is, “Phil Robertson, and those who agree with him, make me Christ blind.” That would make a nice Lenten confession, don’t you think?

And that’s how we talk. So and so makes me angry, we say. That behavior drives me crazy, we say. That belief system pushes me right over the edge, we say.

But the moment we do that, we paint ourselves right into a corner. We make the other person.. or the behavior.. or the belief system.. responsible for our Christ blindness.

We pin the letter of the law on someone else.

Please pray with me.

Lord, forgive our Christ blindness. And teach us to follow you, the embodiment of the law.
AMEN
      

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