"IT'S A HARD SAYING"

Rev. Jim Petersen

1^st Congregational UCC-Great Falls, MT                                                                                  

3-9-08

Text: Matthew 5:38-48

Welcome to Lent.  I've let you off the hook my past two sermons. Last week you received a "refreshment" sermon, appropriate enough for the fourth Sunday of Lent, called "refreshment Sunday." Before that I offered a Valentine sweetheart sermon, on forgiveness.  Not that forgiveness is easy, but it is not so much in your face.

This morning we are getting back to the hard stuff of Lent, which is to say, I am going to get in your face. After all, Jesus is not always easy on us.  Especially during Lent, when we have to listen to his "hard sayings."

For example, in this morning's scripture lesson read from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, there are no less than three designated "hard sayings."  If you were listening you noticed them when they were read - they were the ones that made you flinch if you are feeling, or roll your eyeballs if you are cocky.

Two are very familiar.  To inflict you again:

(1) "You have heard that it was said: ?An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.'  But I say to you: do not take revenge on someone who wrongs you.  But (here it comes) if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also."  (Matthew 5:38-39)

A hard saying.  That is, it is difficult, radical, outrageous, perhaps even ill-advised, and definitely hard on the cheek-bone.

(2) "You have heard that it was said, ?You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you: (ready) love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."  (Matthew 5:43-44)

Another hard saying.   Hard as in improbable, impossible and perhaps even treasonous.

But you are familiar with these two hard sayings.    For they are fundamental to the teachings of Jesus, and have been favorites from the pulpit ever since.   So for two millenniums parishioners have left the sanctuary shaking their heads and saying, "This minister is out to lunch," or "That preacher does not live in the same world as I do."

"Turn the other cheek?"  Fat chance!  "Love your enemies?"  Get real!

I mean, we love our pets. We love our children, before the terrible twos. We love our parents, so long as they limit their visits to no more than 3 days at a time. We love our neighbors, sometimes. And on occasion we extend love to strangers.     Hey, we even love our teenagers, after they reach about 24.

But love our enemies?  Turn the other cheek? You get the point - hard sayings! 

A couple of enemy quotes, too good to pass up.

1) "Speak well of your enemies. Remember, you made them."

2) (My favorite) "Be cautious when you choose your enemy, for you will grow more like them."

(George Hurston Williams)

Then there is this, the third hard saying, from this morning's scripture lesson, a real chunk of coal in Jesus' Sermon on the Mount:  "You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect." (Matthew 5:48)

In fact, this is the concluding sentence in this idealistic segment of Jesus' Sermon on the Mount.  "You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect."

Oh, give me a break! If there is one thing I do not need to hear, it is this: "I must be perfect."

I do not need this. I live with this nagging voice inside telling me this every day.  I do not need to have Jesus tell me, "I must be perfect."

Although my voice usually puts it in the negative, like: I should have worked harder, read more, exercised longer, preached better, called on more, cared for more, counseled more, baptized more, served more, sacrificed more, saved more, while spending more quality time with my family, and living the contemplative life of prayer and meditation.

The good news is: this makes us work hard by day.  The bad news is: this makes us sleep light by night.

It is bad enough I hear voices.  I do not need to read it in the Bible:  "You, therefore, must be perfect."

Even when we grow up and become adults and learn that nobody is perfect, that at best we are runner-ups, we still hear the voice of perfection.

Like the story of the preacher who asked his congregation, "Does anyone here claim to be perfect?" To their credit, no one responded. So the minister asked, "Well, then, has anyone here every known anyone who was perfect?"

After a pause, an older married man near the rear shuffled to his feet and said, "Reverend, I did not actually know him, but I sure have heard of him a lot." Surprised, the minister asked the man, "Well, who is this perfect person?"  Responded the married man, "My wife's first husband."

It is hard to get away from the voice of perfection. If we don't come by it naturally, we marry into it.

No, I am certain we do not need to read in the Gospel of Matthew, "You, therefore, must be perfect."  We are already hunted and haunted by this most unrealistic expectation. And then to make matters worse, Jesus adds this comparative kicker, "You, therefore, must be perfect,    even as your Father in heaven is perfect."

Ye, gads!    It is bad enough to be compared to our wives' first husbands,   or to our parents, or to our older brothers and sisters, but to be compared to God? Now this is really ridiculous!

Nobody is perfect as God is perfect.   God sees all things, knows all things, does all things,  is all things.  Without exception, there is no one like this.   Not even the wife's first husband.

But here is Jesus preaching to the poor folks sitting on the grassy knoll overlooking the Sea of Galilee, "Be perfect like God."  We wish he would say,  "Be yourself."  Or "Be the best person you can be."  Shoot, we'd even accept, "Be a little less than a heavenly angel."

But, oh, no, Jesus puts it way out there beyond the possible, "Be perfect, like God is perfect." Now this is a hard saying. It's like Mark Twain said of the Bible, "It is not what I don't understand about the Bible that bothers me, but what I do understand that bothers me."

"Be perfect, like God is perfect."  This bothers us.

To "be perfect like God."  What might this mean? If you worshiped the ancient Greek gods of Jesus' time, to "be perfect like God" meant to strive for detachment.  "Apatheia" was the Greek word for this perfection.  To be without feeling, "apatheia," from which we get the word "apathy."

This was perfection for the Greek, the absence of feeling.     This was how the gods upon Mount Olympus were defined.    They were detached, above humanity, beyond the world,   without feeling, "apatheia."

Uninvolved in community, unconcerned about suffering, insulated from pain, isolated from risk, this was Greek god-like perfection.  You will recognize that some still worship at this altar today.

For the Jews in Jesus time, to be perfect like God meant to strive for righteousness, for righteousness was the chief attribute of the Old Testament God.  God was the righteous ruler, the just judge, separating the holy from the unholy.

To worship this God was to be like the Pharisees adhering to the letter of the Law.  It was to be morally straight and ethically superior.  To be perfect for the Jew was to be separated from the sinner who did not live up to the standards of righteousness.   You will recognize there are still some Pharisees today.

Now get this. To be Christian, to worship the God revealed in Jesus Christ, means to try and overcome the distance, the division, the distinction between God's people in this world.

For the chief characteristic of God, according to Jesus, is not apathy, like the Greeks, nor the Law, like the Jews, both of which separate people from people and people from God. But the chief characteristic of God, as taught by Jesus, is love. A forgiving love which reunites people with God, and consequently people with people as they strive to be god-like.  "Neither Greek nor Jew, free nor slave, male not female..."   but an involved, inclusive love, like God.

Jesus' last words on the cross, according to the Gospel of John, are, "It is finished."   "Finished," which incidentally, is the same word in Greek that is used in Jesus' command to us to be perfect.

So for Jesus upon the cross to say, "It is finished," is to say, "It is perfected." Can you imagine, Jesus hanging there, dying on the cross, and he says, "Hey, man, this is perfect." Welcome to Christianity!

Like the wealthy man tired of the church's requests for money. "?Give, give, give,' " that's all you ever ask," complained the parishioner to the pastor.   "Thank you," said the minister. "That's the best definition of Christianity I have ever heard." Give until it hurts.  By the way, please return your pledge cards promptly, so we can make this annual process swift and painless, and get it behind us.

Jesus is giving everything he's got, his entire life, and he says, "It is perfect."  Say what?   Actually, what he is saying is, "It is completed.  What I have come to do is fulfilled.   My mission is accomplished.  Done!"

His mission was to be the love of God.  To enter so deeply into the bowels of humanity, to take upon himself the sin and sorrow of humanity, so as to create a bridge across the chasm which separates God from humanity and thereby enable reconciliation.

 So, when Jesus says, "You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect,"  he is not saying:  we must be aloof and above it all; we must be distant and detached; we must be unblemished and without sin; we must be successful and without failure.

When Jesus says we must be perfect he is saying:  we must give ourselves to this world with all our life; we must serve humanity and steward creation with all our resources; we must seek to overcome the distances, the divisions and the distinctions which separate God's people;   we must be all that God calls us to be, human beings fully alive and fully committed to the love and will of God.  This is what it means to be perfect as God is perfect.   We are to be in a complete and fulfilled relationship with God.  And when we are, "It is finished."

Every religion, you see, has an idea about God.   And followers of that religion seek to be like their God.  Some gods are distant and detached.   Some gods are stern and judgmental.

The God revealed in Jesus Christ is loving and self-sacrificing, forgiving like a parent, and committed to building God's kingdom on earth, wherein this world might become a better, even beautiful, place for all God's children.

So if we say we worship the God revealed in Jesus Christ, we are to strive to be like Jesus. If our goal in life is to live in comfort and isolation, detached from the misery and poverty of this world, then we do not worship the God in Jesus Christ. If our goal in life is to solidify our self-righteous rank and exercise dominion and dominance over others, then we do not worship the God in Jesus Christ.  If our goal in life is to accumulate things and protect our possessions, power and prestige, while others are wanting, then we do not worship the God in Jesus Christ.

For to worship the God in Jesus Christ is to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, serve the poor, care for the sick,  visit the imprisoned, liberate the oppressed, forgive the sinner, and so forth... you know the text (Matthew 25:35-36).

To worship the God in Jesus Christ is to, well, as we have already heard in those other hard sayings, is to turn the other cheek and to love our enemies. This is to worship the God in Jesus Christ.

Clearly we are not complete.  We are not yet "finished."  But if we are not growing in this direction, then we are worshiping at other altars and serving other gods.  We better beware.

In John Drinkwater's play, "Abraham Lincoln," there is a conversation between Lincoln and a woman of the north.   The woman asks the President,  "Is there any news from the war?"

Lincoln answers, "Yes.  There is news of a victory.  The South lost 2700 men; the North lost 800."

The woman is elated.  "Splendid!  That's wonderful news."   Lincoln repeats, "That's 3500 men killed, ma'am."  The woman responds, "You must not talk that way, Mr. President.  There were only 800 that mattered."

To which the President replies, "The world is bigger than your heart, madam."

God came to us in Jesus Christ to enlarge our hearts.  God came to us in Jesus Christ that Christian compassion might envelope the globe.

The world will little remember our power, our prestige, our possessions.  If we ever reach perfection what will be remembered is the size of our heart.

As Mother Teresa used to say, who I believe was about as near Christian perfection as any mortal, including her own doubts and dark nights, "I am just a little pencil in God's hand... doing something beautiful for God."

May we do likewise.

AMEN.