C Epiphany 7 2019 BFC
Luke 6:27-38
February 24, 2019
One of the great mythological
questions asked in each age is, “What does it mean to be human?” To even state the question that way is to
somehow put all of creation under our feet and suggest that the rest of God’s
creation is somehow less than, not as important, as a tool for our welfare and
benefit. I have found myself bristling
when those well-intentioned about our Conference church camp, Camp Mimanagish,
have asked, with all good intent, “How might we use Camp Mimanagish and be good
stewards of this gift rather than seeing intrinsic value in the goodness of the
pine and moose, water and rock?” To ask,
“How might we be in relationship with Camp Mimanagish? What might we learn from it and what does the
Boulder River sing to us?” Those are
significantly different questions. One
set of the questions says the camp is valued but disposable outside of human
relationship. The other questions
suggest that this earth has intrinsic value outside of human reach.
Returning to the question, “What does it mean to be
human?” We have historically disguised
the question to suggest that some of us are more human than others in a
hierarchy of being that some are not worthy, disposable, and some are of
intrinsic value to God.
George Lakoff, retired linguistic professor at
UC-Berkley, regularly repeats the conservative moral hierarchy to help
understand why there is such social, political, and economic polarization in
this day and age. People who are
progressive in the social, political, and economic spheres cannot possibly
understand conservative people unless they see this moral hierarchy at
work. Lakoff relates that hierarchy as follows:
• God above Man
• Man above Nature
• The Disciplined (Strong) above
the Undisciplined (Weak)
• The Rich above the Poor
• Employers above Employees
• Adults above Children
• Western culture above other
cultures
• America above other countries
• Men above Women
• Whites above Nonwhites
• Christians above non-Christians
• Straights above Gays[1]
This
hierarchy suggests that all those beneath another are not as “human” or not as
worthy as others so that if I should treat one as less-deserving down the
hierarchical ladder, why would anyone object?
Either explicitly or just by repeating this as a cultural norm, is this
not the personal, economic, and governmental history of our country? I recognize that this moral hierarchy
unfortunately moves through me and dictates some of the worst part of me. As I watch the full force of the United
States government, Democrat and Republican, begin the ramping up to affirm
American exceptionalism, I recognize that we are not only seeking justification
to invade another sovereign country, almost sure to happen now, but also
affirming this moral hierarchy as not just conservative.
The poisonous, evil Doctrine of
Discovery which allowed Europeans to dispossess Native peoples of their land
used this moral hierarchy. It was
Governor Harvey of Virginia who said that “savages” had no claim or right to
the land any more than “wild beasts” in the forest.[2] Governor Winthrop of the Massachusetts Colony
invoked the very Bible passage I use to say that God has given the land to the
community for its welfare and benefit.
Winthrop had an addendum. He stated that the Natives of New England had
not used the land as any European might so the land was available for the
taking.[3] With such an understanding, what is now known
as southern and central Illinois, the birthplace of yours truly, was taken from
the great Illinois people, because they weren’t really using it in the grand,
ole European way.
Who is human? Who is worthy of the full rights and
privileges of the personal or household, the business place or the courtroom,
the government or equal? If I take a
nonviolent knee to protest police brutality or racism as a pro football player
of color or as Ole Miss basketball players did yesterday[4], is that
more human than an NFL owner breaking the law at least twice through
solicitation of prostitution? Which is
more Patriot-ic? Which is more human?
At the time of Jesus, the moral
hierarchy was even more stratified.
Jesus seeks to upend that hierarchy in teaching we have from the Gospel
of Luke we have for today using a shared source that was also before the author
of the Gospel of Matthew. First, Jesus
cuts through the idea that anyone’s moral hierarchy is better. “See that enemy over there?” Jesus says. “You know, the one you would like to move
further down the ladder to place yourself over the top of?”
“Yeah?
Don’t they suck, Jesus?” And Jesus
says, “Love them.”
“Whaaaaaaaaat, dude?”
“Yeah, love them. Do good by them. Treat them justly, honorably, rightly. Bless them.
Speak well of them. Confer God’s
blessing on them. Praise them when you
see them do right. Pray for them. Lift them up to God on their behalf. Find common cause and solidarity with them.”[5]
“Duuuuuuude.”
“Yes,” Jesus teaches, “you are to show
whole-hearted, unreserved, unconditional desire for the well-being of
another. And stop this transactional
relationship thing that makes somebody beholden to you or to create people
‘owing’ you. Give because people need it
not to obligate or indebt.”
“Duude.”
“(shaking head), Yes.”
Jesus does not allow our enemies to
become another part of the moral hierarchy.
He does not allow violence to come to them because they somehow deserve
it, are less than, or are not worthy of our respect, praise, or prayer. And in upending the moral hierarchy, Jesus
makes it clear to all in hearing distance that we are to be made and re-made in
the image of a nonviolent, benevolent God.
But Jesus is not calling us to be a
doormat. Oh no. In this teaching, expanded upon more in the
Gospel of Matthew, Jesus uses three common scenes of disproportionate power in
the ancient world: the household with
master and slave, the courtroom, with wealthy against indebted peasant, and the
one not included in Luke, the Roman centurion and the Jew.
If I am facing you, as Master to
slave, I will not hit you with the unclean hand, the left hand. I will use my right hand to hit you on the
right cheek. We are not in a fight. I am using the back of my hand to indicate
you are not my equal, not human like I am.
It is a slap of insult. If I use
my open hand or my right fist to hit you on the left cheek, I would be
indicating that I see you as my equal. I
insult you, tell everyone that you are “less than”, by backhanding you on the
right cheek. You now turn your left
cheek to me. You offer me an impossible
dilemma. If I strike you with my left
hand, the left hand being unclean, I bring shame upon myself. If I strike you with an open-handed right, I
indicate you are my equal. You are
indicating that you are my equal, inviting me to treat you as such. It is a sign of resistance to the moral
hierarchy. I, as the one seeking to make
sure you know your place in the honor and shame code, am now caught in a moral
quandary.
Similarly, we are now in the court
room. Peasants would not have used the
courts to pursue justice. This is
someone who has means, showing his privilege, his ability to take the basic
needs of a peasant. The ancient world
was a two-garment world—cloak or coat and shirt. In your debt to me, after I have taken your
crops, your land, your possessions, you now have nothing left but your
garments. and you are unable to pay. I now insult you by taking your coat. Shame is leveled on you as I enforce the
moral hierarchy of rich over poor. But a
wry smile creases your face. You know
that in the ancient world, to see another person naked, brings shame not on the
naked person but on the person seeing the nakedness. I take your coat. You now take off your shirt and my eyes grow
wide as you give that to me as well. The
shame I intended for you, you now hand over to me in an unmasking of an evil
and unjust system—I with one arm holding your coat and one arm holding your
shirt. Shame is brought upon me as I view
your nakedness. You are now no longer an
object I dictate to. You are a subject
who has turned the tables on the moral hierarchy and unmasked the injustice of
the court room.
Finally, within the Roman Empire,
centurions could impress conquered peoples to walk one mile with their heavy
pack. It is a way that the centurions
can remind everyone who is in charge and whose schedule matters. Roman civil law dictated that if centurions
were to impress someone to walk more than one mile, a heavy penalty could be
levied on them. Imagine this. As Jesus says it. They now imagine a Jewish peasant walking
that extra mile while the Roman centurion, trails them, pleads with them to give the pack back,
begging to get the pack back. It is a
way of saying that you will not rob me of my humanity. You will not enforce a violent, moral
hierarchy that robs me of what it means to be human. It is saying that God sees me as quite
different than you might see it. And I
will use all my humor, wisdom, resistance, and civil disobedience to say, “I am
a beloved Child of God, not worthy of your abuse, your exploitation, or your
occupation and persecution. I am a
beloved Child of God. I am not a
doormat. (beating chest) I
. . . am . . . a beloved . . . Child . . . of God!”
Now we should remember. We might be able to do this once or
twice. And then those who see themselves
further up the moral hierarchy will figure out a response to reinforce the cultural
norm. That means we will have to be
creative, engaged, and experimental to know how we will continue to unmask the
violence of the system and remember our humanity.
Jesus has not asked us to employ
violence to counter the violence of the system.
He has not asked us to be doormats.
He is teaching a third way. What
Jesus holds open is the possibility that the Master, the creditor, and the
centurion might become transformed by our action and become just too. Evil can be opposed without being mirrored.[6]
Sisters and brothers, siblings and
cousins, it is time that we seek to put an end to these moral hierarchies
through resistance to evil in creative, confrontational, nonviolent ways. This is the third way of Jesus. We must do that in a way that also sees the
animals and trees as sisters and brothers but also our enemy who is not beneath
us. Rather, we must also say that we are
not doormats to express the beauty, the courage, the divinity that moves in and
around us, between us and underneath our feet.
God seeks to smudge us that we all might know ourselves as Beloved
Children of God.
How do we offer this creative, nonviolent
confrontation to bring an NDO to Billings?
How do we offer this creative, nonviolent confrontation so that the
scourge of violence against Native people comes to an end? How do we creatively cut the purse strings to
a pharma/soporific/addiction culture loosens its evil grip on our loved
ones? Let us begin the revolution of a
nonviolent, creative third way, and tear down the walls of a moral hierarchy
that are absolutely empty of meaning in God’s eyes. Beloved children of God: Love.
Turn the other cheek. Give them
your shirt. Walk the extra mile. Repeat.
Then creatively unmask and repeat again.
Amen.
[1]
George Lakoff, “The Conservative Moral Hierarchy,” July 1, 2017, https://georgelakoff.com/2017/07/01/two-questions-about-trump-and-republicans-that-stump-progressives/.
[2]Eric
Kades, “History and Interpretation of the Great Case of Johnson v. M’Intosh,” Law and History Review, Spring 2001, p.
72.
[3]
Ibid
[4] “Eight
Ole Miss players kneel during anthem in response to Confederacy rally,” ESPN, February 23, 2019. http://www.espn.com/mens-college-basketball/story/_/id/26063456/eight-ole-miss-players-kneel-anthem-response-confederacy-rally. You know, the place with a mascot of a
southern plantation owner.
[6]
Walter Wink, The Powers That Be: Theology for a New Millennium (New
York: Doubleday, 1998), pp. 98-111. Wink’s incredible description of this can be
found here: https://cpt.org/files/BN%20-%20Jesus%27%20Third%20Way.pdf.
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