When
I was a kid, I went to the Ripley's Believe It Or Not Museum in
Chicago. In the gift shop I saw and bought a 1 ½ inch square of
plastic that had the entire Bible printed on it. If I put it under my
microscope and patiently adjusted the focus I could see, though not
comfortably read, the words of all 1200 pages of the King James
Bible. I was excited because I had seen machines at the library that
would allow you to read microfilms of books and newspapers. I figured
someday they would make a handheld version that would read books on
little squares like my micro-Bible and I could carry my whole library
with me in a cigarbox. What a glorious future I imagined!
The
future did me one better. I now have a Kindle on which I have several
translations of the Bible, commentaries, Bible and medical
dictionaries, books by Martin Luther, C.S. Lewis, and St. Augustine,
histories of the church, of the middle ages, and disabilities in
America, all the works of Jules Verne and H.G. Wells and Mark Twain
and Edgar Allan Poe and every one of the original Sherlock Holmes
stories. And it is smaller than a cigarbox. If necessary I can also
access these books on my smartphone.
We live at a time when the science fiction tropes of my childhood are
becoming fact. Seeing that it encompasses everything from optimistic
Star Trek to the dystopic vision of Brave New World, I
am not sure whether this development heartens or disturbs me. On the
one hand, we have tiny devices in our pockets that can access
practically all of the information in the world with a computing
power greater than the room-sized computers that got us to the moon.
On the other hand, we have drones, or as I like to think of them,
flying robots of death. And even our computers have a dark side,
allowing others to gather information on us, which can be used to
steal our identities or, we are assured, serve us better and keep us
safe from terrorists.
Just
before the revelations that our own NSA was collecting data on every
phone call and computer search we make, my wife and I got hooked on a
show called Person of Interest. In it a rich eccentric
computer programmer has created a machine which can monitor all
electronic data—phone, computer, security cameras, etc—for the
government. It is supposed to search for clues to imminent terrorist
activities but it also picks up indications of individual crimes of
violence. The government sees these as irrelevant but Harold, the
programmer, has built a backdoor into the software and the machine
gives him the social security numbers of those who are either going
to be perpetrators or victims of personal violence. Harold has
recruited some disillusioned CIA assassins and cops to help prevent
the crimes he is tipped off about. It's a smart and compelling show
but often the solution to the threat of violence comes down to more
violence.
In
a particularly intense episode, one of the good guy cops was captured
and tortured for having incriminating evidence about the bad guys. He
refuses to tell them where the evidence is and his son's death is
ordered. The bad guy uses the good cop's phone to call his son so he
can hear his boy die. Then a good guy assassin saves the son, and the
tortured cop manages to turn the tables on his executioner and
garrotte the bad guy with his own handcuffs. And I found myself
cheering as he killed the bad guy! Afterward I wondered why I was so
uncharacteristically reveling in such bloodlust.
You
expect violence in Person of Interest but in the recent Star
Trek movie the climax was Spock, the emotionless, rational
Vulcan, pummeling the bad guy into unconsciousness. And in Man of
Steel Superman kills the bad guy with his bare hands. Here we are
in the 21st century and while our technology has
progressed tremendously, our morality has emphatically not. We still think might
makes right; that the end justifies the means.
Recent
studies have shown that getting revenge on people who have done us
wrong, or even just thinking about it, activates the same part of the
brain that gives us pleasure. The researchers call it “sweet”
revenge. As Dr. Edward Hallowell, author of Dare to Forgive,
admits about revenge, “It feels so good. It's a wonderfully
triumphant feeling.”
So
what Jesus says about loving our enemies in today's gospel (Matthew
5:38-48) goes against some of our strongest feelings. In view of the
brain imagining study, you could even call his command unnatural. And what's
unnatural is bad, right?
To
call something natural is merely to say that it happens in nature; it
doesn't tell us whether it is good or bad, helpful or harmful. After
years of studying our closest relatives, the gentle and caring
chimpanzees, Jane Goodall discovered to her horror that they also go to war and
even indulge in cannibalism. Some animals eat their young. Or
practice incest. It is all natural behavior. Does that make it
morally right?
Aspirin
relieves pain, reduces fever and inflammation and taken in low doses
over time can prevent heart attacks. It is an artificial compound
designed to mimic the properties of willow bark. It is unnatural.
Does that make it bad? On the other hand, poison ivy and nightshade
are both natural. Does that make them good?
It
is natural for people to wish harm on those who wish them harm. So
natural that, while, as we see in Leviticus 19, the command to love
your neighbor is not in fact followed by the words “and hate your
enemy,” we can all think of Old Testament passages where it would
be easy to deduce that idea. Israel was a little country surrounded
by bigger pagan countries and even empires; it had to fight to
establish itself and to continue to exist. So they hated their
military enemies and their religions of sex and human sacrifice. In
Psalm 139:21 & 22, the psalmist says to God, “Lord, don't I
hate those who hate you?...I hate them with a perfect hatred. I
consider them my enemies.”
It's
an understandable sentiment but that doesn't make it right. Jesus
wants us to transcend that. He wants us to be better than animals or
even than the natural man. Because all of the righteous violence in
the world has not stamped out the existence of violence for evil
reasons. Revenge engenders further revenge. Violence begets violence.
If I strike you on the cheek, the odds are less in favor of you
turning your other cheek than they are of you striking me back. And
striking me harder than I struck you.
Which
is why the Lex Talionis, the law of tit for tat, is found in the Old
Testament. We also find it in the earlier Code of Hammurabi. And
while today we see the principle of “an eye for an eye and a tooth
for a tooth” as savage, it was actually a method of limiting
violence. Rather than letting any and all members of a family or
tribe avenging a wrong done to one of its members (usually by killing
and/or wounding any and all members of the perpetrator's family or
tribe), an appointed judge was to use this guideline of
proportionality. The idea was if someone injured someone so severely
that he lost an eye, no more than an eye could be taken from the
offender. You couldn't cut off his hand or take his life. And of
course this rather quickly became a matter of payment rather than
literal maiming. Jewish law laid down a method for assessing the
payment based on the 5 elements of the offense. If found guilty of
injuring another, the person was liable for the victim's
injury, pain, healing, loss of time, and the damage to his dignity.
You can see the origins of today's legal liability and compensation
laws.
But
what Jesus is asking his followers to do is not to insist on one's
legal rights. In Jesus' time, to strike someone on the cheek was a grave insult and
the aggressor could get a stiff fine, just like today. You couldn't
legally keep a person's outer cloak; if they were poor it might be the only way they could keep warm at night. A Roman soldier could only make
you walk one mile, to, say, carry his pack. Jesus says “forget about your rights; rise above them.” If you turn the other cheek, you are in effect saying, “I am
able to take your abuse. I am able to absorb twice the abuse you've
showered on me. I am not a person of vengeance and violence. I am a
child of God and I trust in him to administer justice.” By acting
in such a manner, the victim is not acting the victim. He is in fact
confronting the person who struck the blow with the question of what
kind of person he is. Is he the kind of person who would beat
someone who refuses to fight back? If so, he is revealing himself to
be inferior in self-control and brings dishonor upon his name and
reputation. That was especially powerful in the honor/shame society
of Jesus' day.
And
it has worked in history. Gandhi adopted the idea of non-violent
resistance in response to the oppressive governing of India by the British. He
organized peasants, farmers and laborers against the excessive land
taxes and discrimination. Protesting the salt tax, he led his
followers on a 250 mile march to the sea to make salt the old
fashioned way. Through many other acts of peaceful civil disobedience
and non-cooperation with the British Raj, through many imprisonments,
and by denouncing violence on either side, Gandhi shamed the British
who thought themselves to be a very moral nation. Eventually it led
to the British quitting India and letting them have their
independence.
Martin
Luther King did much the same thing. His followers would march and
sing gospel songs and the sight of these peaceful people being
knocked down by the torrents from fire hoses and attacked by dogs
made a lot of Americans feel that this did not look like a very
Christian way to treat people. In 1964 the Civil Rights Act banned
discrimination. I remember the race riots that broke out in the late
60s and early 70s after the emergence of the Black Power movement and
I can't help but think they would be worse were it not for Dr. King's
nonviolent campaigns.
I
saw non-violent resistance work in my own life. Once when I was
taking a public bus home from high school, a bully, his crony and I
were the last kids aboard and I knew we would be getting off at the
same stop. And he was loudly declaring what he would do to me once we
got off the bus. There was no way I could take on this Neanderthal and his
minion. I was scared. But I said to his taunts,”Sure, you can beat
me up. You're a lot bigger than me. And what will that prove? That
you can beat up someone smaller than you. Anyone can. Beating me up
won't make you a big man. It will only show that you can beat up
someone who can't possibly hurt you because they are smaller and
weaker.” When we got off the bus, he looked at me in disgust,
pushed me into some bushes and stalked off. I had spoiled his fun by
showing him how ridiculous his beating me up would make him look. I
defeated him not with pugilism but with perspective.
In
turning the other cheek, the victim is breaking the cycle of
violence. The natural response is to retaliate. The natural response
is for each side to escalate in response to the other side. But if
one side brings that evolution of the conflict to a halt, it can
prevent worse damage. It can also open a door to talking rather than
fighting.
Ah,
but doesn't taking it lying down merely embolden the aggressor? That's why
Jesus doesn't say, “just take it” but “turn the other cheek.”
That's not taking it lying down but taking it and still standing.
That's not cowardice but courage. It is a way of saying, “You
haven't defeated me. I can still act. I can still make my own
choices. And I choose not to fight.”
It
is also not saying, “What you did is not bad.” That is an issue
that Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber had to deal with when the 10th
anniversary of 9/11 fell on a Sunday and so by cosmic coincidence did
the passage from Matthew where Peter asks if he should forgive
someone who wronged him 7 times and Jesus says 77 times. Is that
saying it was OK? she fretted. And then she remembered a fellow Lutheran pastor
named Don. He did the funeral for Dylan Klebold, one of the Columbine
shooters. Because of that, he had to leave his job at his church. In
her book Pastrix, the Rev. Bolz-Weber writes, “...Don had the
gall to think that the promises given to Dylan by God at his baptism
were more powerful than the acts of evil he had committed. It helps
me to think about Don because I realize that he wasn't saying what
Dylan Klebold did was OK. He was defiantly proclaiming that evil is
simply not more powerful than good, and that there really is a light
that shines in the darkness and that the darkness can not, shall not,
will not overcome it.”
Jesus
came to bring peace, not only between God and human beings but also
between people. And not just between our own people. It is easy to say
that “love your neighbor” doesn't include enemies. And that when
Jesus said, “Love one another as I have loved you,” he was only
talking to Christians about other Christians. Or when he said,
“Whatever you do to the least of these my siblings, you do to me,”
he was only talking about Christians clothing and feeding and
visiting in prison other Christians. If you look at these things in this
way, we are still free to hate our enemies. And we find ways to make
even our fellow countrymen, our fellow Christians, our fellow
Lutherans or Episcopalians into our enemies. But by Jesus saying
“Love your enemies” we have no one left to hate. We can't hate
the rich or the poor, the Republicans or the Democrats, the gays or
the straights, the legal or the illegal immigrants, the Muslims or
the Jews or the Wicca or anyone else. We must love every one of them.
Because God created every one of them in his image. Jesus died for
every one of them, whether they know it or not, whether they
acknowledge it or not. God so loved the WORLD...not just some of it,
not just the lovable people, not just the reasonable people, not just
the admirable people. Or else the gospel is a sham.
Jesus
said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you..”
Why? “...so that you may be children of your Father who is in
heaven.” And he concludes this passage by saying, “Be perfect,
therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”
Are
you perfect? I'm not. And so if Jesus says that's the direction I
must be taking, then I will have to stop hating people, stop
demonizing them, stop wishing them ill. I will have to stop writing
people off as a lost cause, which is what hate is. Because God doesn't. And thank God he
doesn't. Or I wouldn't be here. And neither would any of you. God is
a God of hope and faithfulness and love--love more powerful than
hate, more powerful than evil, more powerful than any negative force
out there. And because he is, we can turn the other cheek, we can go
the second mile, we can love our enemies. Because greater is he who
is in us than he who is in the world. He who is in us is he who was
struck on the cheek, and whipped and spat upon and crucified. And he
who is in us is he who rose from the grave, big as life, stronger
than ever. He did that to save us, all of us. But not all of us know
that. Not all of us have responded to his love. So rather than
pushing anyone away, we need to draw them to us in order to draw them
to him. We need to stop being belligerent and start being believers
in God's power and mercy and grace. We need to be brave enough to
unclench our fists and offer our hand to our enemies. And if we get
slapped, that's a small price to pay for the privilege of
demonstrating the unstoppable love of the God who doesn't write
anyone off.
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