Earth Day

Saturday, April 23, 2022

Sermon, Seventh Sunday after Epiphany, "The Third Way"

 

C Epiphany 7 Pilg 2022
Luke 6:27-38
February 20, 2022

           Without historical, political, or societal context, some Christians believe the Scripture passage read for us today is an invitation to be a doormat.  Love your enemies.  Pray for those who persecute you.  And if someone slaps you one cheek, just keep on taking it.  Jesus calls Christians to be nice.  To swallow real hard in the face of persecution.  And to do no harm no matter what the other person does to us.  Jesus wants us to be lily-livered, fragile and feeble weaklings.  Right?

           To contrast, there has been a wholly paper-overing of who Jesus really was, the context he lived in, to picture Jesus as forever the victor and conqueror.  In this version, popular today in evangelical and conservative Christian circles, Jesus is John Wayne.  He is a muscular super-hero who kicks the butts of all his enemies.  Seminars, workshops, and retreats invite men to be men, to kill the Muslim hordes, and for Christianity to take its rightful place on the world’s throne.  Sometimes I’m not so sure this is what people have as a faith and then try to institute it.  Or whether people see Christianity as an excuse to institute their hunger for power and world domination. 

           Meanwhile, many of us won’t go so far as adopting a Jesus who kicks the butts of our opponents.  But we have long justified a history of Christendom, that, when we’re honest, has a conquering Jesus that justifies the enslaving of others, the taking the land of other, and the persecuting of those who disagree with us.  Because . . . Jesus wants, craves power over others.

           I believe Jesus called us to a Third Way.  I do not believe Jesus calls us to be a doormat.  I do not believe he calls us to a faith which craves, above all else, to put Christianity über alles, over all people and all things. 

           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 (Rome was a slave society), the courtroom, with wealthy power-seeker over indebted peasant (Rome was a commercial debt society), and the one not included in Luke, the Roman centurion engaging the colonized or occupied Jewish populace. 

           In the first scenario, a master and a slave . . . If I am facing you, as master to slave, I will not hit you with the unclean hand, my 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 right hand to hit you to indicate that 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.  I intend to shame you.  I tell everyone observing that you are “less than,” by backhanding you on the right cheek. 

           Jesus is not trying to ratchet up the violence with what he tells the person not in power to do next.  He is upsetting an honor and shame system that is intended to dehumanize the person slapped.  Jesus says, “Turn the other cheek.”

           The slave turns their left cheek to the master.  Now the master is an impossible dilemma.  If the master strikes the slave with the left hand, the left hand being unclean, the master has now brought shame upon themselves.  If the master strikes the slave with their right hand, an open hand to get to the other cheek, the master indicates the slave is their equal.  This will not do.  But the slave is inviting that equality.  It is a resistance to the moral hierarchy.  It upends the honor and shame code that was prevalent at this time. 

           As the master, the one striking would be seeking to make sure the slave knows their place.  By turning the other cheek,  the slave puts the master 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 their privilege, their ability to take the basic needs of a peasant.  The ancient world was a two-garment world:  a cloak or a coat and a shirt.  Understand what is at stake.  If we are down to the peasant’s very clothes, they have presumably lost their land and all other possessions to this wealthy power-seeker.  Nothing is left but the peasant’s garments and they are unable to pay.  The wealthy power-seeker now takes their coat.  Shame is put upon you as the moral hierarchy of rich over poor is enforced.

           Jesus must have had a wry smile crease his lips as he described what to do next.  Give them your shirt too.  In the ancient world, to see another person naked was to bring shame not on the naked person but on the person viewing the nakedness.  The wealthy power-seeker takes the peasant’s coat.  As the peasant also takes off their shirt, the wealthy power-seeker’s eyes must grow wide with disbelief as they accept the shirt to view the peasant’s nakedness.  The shame intended for the peasant is now overturned. 

           The peasant is no longer an object but shows they are a subject with power of their own.  The peasant turns the tables on the moral hierarchy, shown the injustice of the honor and shame code, the wider injustice of the courtroom.

           Finally, within the Roman empire, centurions could impress conquered peoples to walk one mile with their heavy pack.  It was a way that the centurions can remind everyone who was in charge, whose schedule mattered.  Roman civil law dictated that if centurions were to impress someone to walk more than one mile, a heavy penalty could be levied on the centurion. 

           So imagine this.  Imagine Jesus teaching this.  Walk two Jesus says.  The crowd now imagines a Jewish peasant walking that extra mile while the Roman centurion trails them, begging to return their pack, pleading with them.[1]

           The Jewish peasant is saying that you will not rob me of my choices, of my humanity. 

           All of these scenarios are saying to the Jewish crowd listening to Jesus . . .

God sees you differently than the master, the wealthy power-seeker, or the centurion might see you.  Use all of your humor, wisdom, resistance, and civil disobedience to say, “I am a beloved Child of God, not worthy of your abuse, your injustice, your exploitation, 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!”

           We should remember.  The crowd Jesus is teaching may be able to do this once or twice before those in power develop a response.  That means they will forever need to be creative and experimental to know how they will continue to unmask the violent system and remember their humanity.  With love as the most creative force in the universe, I believe Jesus was banking on that, encouraging them to know a God who moved and lived and breathed through them in this way.

           The other possibility is to lose on the other end of what Brazilian archbishop, Dom Hélder Câmara, referred to as the “spiral of violence.”  Those outside an unjust, violent system, react with violence to overturn that system. They revolt. They may get temporary reprieve or wins but the powerful are the ones with the advanced weaponry.  Those in power respond to their violence with even greater violence.  Violence begets violence.  “Violence attracts violence,” Câmara writes.[2] 

           There is a third way.  Jesus taught of a profoundly non-violent, confrontational God who sought to engage injustice to bring about transformational justice, life, and love.  In conclusion, Câmara writes, appealing to the young people of his nation who are hell-bent on revolt, praying that they will not lose their determination but also not their lives, in a spiral of violence,


If I joyfully spend the rest of my life, of my powers, of my energies in demanding justice, but without hatred, without armed violence, through liberating moral pressure, through truth and love, it is because I am convinced that only love is constructive and strong. 

 

I know your sincerity and I respect your choice.  Leave no-one indifferent around you.  Provoke discussions.  Your youth must force people to think and take up a position:  let it be uncomfortable, like truth, demanding, like justice.[3] 

 

Hear in this writing not a plea to be a doormat or a conqueror but a hope against hope, something not even realized yet, that we might see in one another the Divine, our common humanity.  In our world today, maybe even to say our common life on this good earth God has created.

           Engaged, confrontational nonviolence is a third way.  And it has paved the way for so much.  Perhaps not written about so much because history is too often the story of the winners, the conquerors. 

           Hear some of its core tenants, six core principles from the Martin Luther King Center:

 

1.     Nonviolence is a way of life for courageous people.  It is active, nonviolent resistance to evil.

2.    Nonviolence seeks to win friendship and understanding.  The end result of nonviolence is redemption and reconciliation.

3.    Nonviolence seeks to defeat injustice, not people.  Nonviolence recognizes that evildoers are also victims.

4.    Nonviolence holds that suffering can educate and transform.  Nonviolence willingly accepts the consequences of its actions.

5.    Nonviolence chooses love instead of hate.  Nonviolence resists violence to the spirit as well as the body.  Nonviolent love is active, not passive.  Nonviolent love does not sink to the level of the hater.  Love restores community and resists injustice.  Nonviolence recognizes the fact that all life is interrelated.

6.    Nonviolence believes that the universe is on the side of justice.  The nonviolent resister has deep faith that justice will eventually win.[4]

 

Those principles are forever evolving as we learn more and more of what it means to be Beloved Children of God, to be human.  Jesus did not invite us to be doormats.  Neither did he invite us to be violent conquerors.  Rather, he offered a third way.  It is difficult.  It may require our own transformation.  But the path Jesus offers is in keeping with a non-violent God who knows that love is the most creative force in the universe.  Amen. 



[1] Walter Wink, “Jesus’ Third Way of Nonviolent Resistance, https://sites.ualberta.ca/~cbidwell/DCAS/third.htm

[2] Dom Hélder Câmara, Spiral of Violence, (London:  Sheed and Ward, Ltd., 1971).  https://www.liberationtheology.org/library/spiral-of-violence-camara.pdf.

[3] Ibid.

[4] The Martin Luther King, Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change, https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/sites/mlk/files/lesson-activities/six_principles_of_nonviolence.pdf.  

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