Matthew 5:38-48 "Coloring Outside the Lines"

         A pastor was giving a sermon based on today’s passage.  He decided to try some congregational participation.

         So he said to the folks sitting in the pews, “I’ll bet that many of us feel as if we have enemies in our lives. So raise your hand if you have many enemies.”  Now, this congregation being a very honest one, quite a few people raised their hands. The pastor smiled and continued.

         “Now raise your hand if you have only a few enemies.” And about half as many people raised their hands.

         “Now raise your hand if you have only one or two enemies.”  And even fewer people raised their hands that time.
         “See,” he says, “most of us feel like we have enemies. Now raise your hand if you have no enemies at all.”

         The pastor looked around and finally, way in the back, an old man raised his hand. The pastor acknowledged him.  The gentleman stood up and proudly announced to the pastor and the congregation, “I have no enemies whatsoever!”

         Needless-to-say, the pastor was astonished and invited the man to the front of the church.          

         “What a blessing!” the pastor said.  “How old are you?
         “I’m 98 years old,” he replied.

          “And you have no enemies?” the pastor asked once again.

         “Nope,” the elderly man said.  “Not a single one.”
         The pastor put his hand on the old parishioner’s shoulder and proclaimed, “What a wonderful Christian life you lead! Tell us how it is that you have no enemies.”
         The old man looked him in the eye and replied, “I outlived them all!”

         Friends and enemies:  That is what this passage we just read seems to be all about.  It is yet another excerpt – and a difficult one too - from the Sermon on the Mount.  Jesus has been up on that mountain preaching for quite some time now – four Sundays worth of verses, as you well know if you have been in the church the past few weeks.  And what he has to say to us this morning is no Sunday School picnic. 

         We have come a long way since we reflected on the Beatitudes (or Blessings) together.  We have imagined ourselves as light and salt.  We have struggled with anger, divorce, lying, and adultery.  And today we are looking our enemies and those who seek to bring us down – looking them square in the face and pondering what in heaven’s name we are to do about them in light of the Gospel message and our calling as Jesus’ 21^st century disciples. 

         As one blogger I read noted, “If you weren’t poor in spirit at the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount, you are bound to be by the time you finish.” Jesus does not go easy on us this morning. 

“If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.  And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well.  If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles.”

         How are we to make sense of those outlandish demands in our crazy, mixed up, dog-eat-dog world?  Even Jesus must have known that you do not get ahead being a doormat and that Casper Milquetoast never had a prayer of ending up as CEO.  Is Jesus trying to show us up as deficient, imperfect, well, OK, human?  Let’s look more closely and see what he might be up to.

        Jesus begins by tossing aside the so-called Law of the Tooth, words to live by in first century Palestine.  Gone are the days of “an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth” in the Kingdom about which he preached.  You see, God’s dream for the world is not founded on retribution. 

         Did you know that this Law of the Tooth was originally meant to keep violent retaliation from escalating?  The logic was that, if someone poked out your eye, then you had the right to poke out one of his eyes – but no more.  Likewise, if someone knocked out your tooth, then you were entitled to knock out one of your assailant’s teeth – but just one, no more.  In other words the punishment was to perfectly fit the crime.  Fair is fair, right?

         But Jesus seems to imply, “No.  It is not a question of fairness.”  And he gives three examples that really must have set his listeners back. 

         The first had to do with getting slapped in the face: “If anyone slaps you on the right cheek….”  Now, most scholars agree that Jesus was talking about being slapped with the back of the hand – which was a gigantic insult to even the lowest of the low. 

A slap on the cheek like that was tantamount to saying, “You are scum” – or as the Irish would say – “The back of my hand to you.” Contrary to erroneous interpretations, Jesus was not talking about a physical assault, like a punch in the mouth. And he certainly was not telling his listeners to roll over and play dead.

         However, he does say that simply taking the insult is not enough, “…turn to them the other cheek also.“ He seems to be imploring his audience to break the cycle of vengeance.  Fairness is not the question – or the answer.  He is asking us to color outside the lines, to go beyond what we know and are comfortable with, to offer more than what we are required to offer.

         The second example is this:  “If anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt…” Again, most scholars agree that a shirt was one of two garments people wore, a cloak being the other.  In this example then, you were literally being asked to relinquish the shirt off your back – even though what you wore was all you owned.

         But then he goes on to say that doing so is not enough:  “…hand over your coat as well.”  Jesus is telling his audience that, in this example, they need to give up their other garment too – and finish the day in their skivvies – or even less than that. 

         Like the first example, he seems to be asking his audience to break the cycle of reprisal.  Fairness is not the question – or the answer.  Jesus is asking us to color outside the lines, to go beyond what we know and are comfortable with, to offer more than what we are required to offer.

         Here is the final example:  “If anyone forces you to go one mile…”  Again, most scholars agree that Roman soldiers had the authority to demand anyone to carry their pack for a mile.  A soldier could pull you away from your fishing vessel or shop or grab a kid playing stickball.  Such a show of power! 

         But Jesus admonishes his audience one again that that is not enough:  “…go with them two miles.”  Once again, he seems to be asking his audience to look beyond retribution.  Fairness is not the question – or the answer.  He is asking us to color outside the lines, to go beyond what we know and are comfortable with, to offer more than what we are required to offer.

         And then, if tossing aside the cultural laws that defined first century Palestinian relationships was not enough, Jesus sums up this part of his sermon by preaching to not just love your neighbor, but love your enemy – not just put up with him or her - as well –

the one who insults you with a slap, the one who takes your shirt and leaves you half-naked and shamed, the one who bullies you into dropping everything and being a personal slave.

         Make everyone your neighbor, Jesus says.  Love your enemies – don’t just put up with them – and even pray for them while you are at it.  It is not a question of fairness.  After all, this is God’s way.  This is part of God’s dream for the world.  This, in God’s eyes, will make you complete – or, as many translations say - perfect.

         That is certainly a difficult concept to embrace in our competitive, winner-take-all world.  I mean, really, if life is not based on fairness, then what is it based on?

         Episcopal priest Michael Marsh tells a story from his boyhood about going to a carnival with his parents and younger sister.   He writes:  “The only thing I remember about that day is the monkey on a stick. Mom and Dad bought us each a little fuzzy monkey tied to a stick by piece of elastic. We carried them around watching them bounce and swing. At some point we went back to the car and laid them on the backseat floorboard and then went on about the day. When we came back to the car my sister got in on my side. As she did she stepped on my monkey and broke the stick. It was an accident. Nevertheless, it was broken.

         (Marsh continues.)  I got in the car, reached over, and stomped on her monkey. I broke it. Then my dad reached over the front seat and slapped my leg. Contrary to Jesus’ admonition in today’s gospel, I did not offer him the other leg to be slapped.

         ‘That’s not fair,’ I yelled. It made no sense to me that she broke my monkey and I got slapped. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a monkey for a monkey. Now that made sense. That was fair.”

         How must we as followers of Jesus view our world, if not through the lens of fairness?  Surely the alternative is what Jesus was getting at in these verses.

         So – I ask you:  What if we were to see the world instead through the lens of love without limits – as difficult as that would be?  What if we really embraced the fact of the abundance of God’s love for us and shared this “overflow” love?  What if we made a commitment to go beyond what we have to offer and worked instead to give more in the name of that love?  What would our lives and the life of this church look like if we moved beyond fairness to trusting that the more we give away, the more we will have?  What if changing lives lay at the root of all we did as a church?  What if we colored outside the lines? What if this command to love that permeates all of the Sermon on the Mount, what if this command was a core value in our lives and in the life of our church? What if we truly embraced William Sloane Coffin’s admonishment that an eye for an eye will eventually leave the whole world blind?

         Giving up retaliation for reconciliation, retribution for pardon, vengeance for forgiveness, fairness for love seems overwhelming and even un-embraceable.

         And yet, Jesus is inviting all the crowds who listen to him down through the ages even to us to embrace a life that seems, in many ways, to be counter to who we have become as human beings. As UCC pastor Mark Suriano writes, he is issuing “a call to the highest and best within us, to raise our sights and join him in creating a more compassionate world, and to create among us a true community of respect based on self-giving.”

        Oh, the old ways will not just disappear.  They are still very much around us – poverty, war, fragmentation – but we – you and I – have, through our baptism, declared ourselves to be Christians and so have made a commitment to a new way of living based not on fairness but on limitless love.  And we cannot forget that! 

         We cannot singlehandedly end world hunger or disarm the entire world.  But we can start small – in our own lives – treating our families with compassion rather than sowing the seeds of revenge or demanding that life be fair or always keeping score.  We can color outside the lines, go beyond what we know and are comfortable with, and offer more than what we are required to offer.

          We can start small - in the life of this church – by supporting and expanding upon all that we do to change lives and create and transform community.  We can start small and support this church’s mission work even if that means going above and beyond our pledge, even if it means giving something when before we have given nothing.  We can color outside the lines, go beyond what we know and are comfortable with, and offer more than what we are required to offer.

         And how will we know if we have succeeded?  As Lutheran pastor, Carla Works noted, “When anger results in reconciliation rather than retaliation God must be at work. When enemies are overcome by love rather than violence God’s reign is present."

         Changing the world is overwhelming.  We cannot make Democrats love Republicans.  We cannot make conservatives affirm progressives.  However, we can change our own lives as well as the life of this church.  Let’s let that be where our focus lies this coming week. It may not seem like much in the face of all the world’s craziness, but it is a start.

         I know of an old wall – stones piled high by some ancient farmer and his son.  Each spring, in that wall, a single flower grows and blooms – no soil, not much sun, just a crack in the rocks. 

         Let’s be like that flower this week – taking our time but always persisting – small but important steps as we practice the faith that Jesus sets forth in these verses we read –

trying out love instead of fairness and compassion instead of retribution, trusting that we have it within us to begin to shatter the old way of doing things (even on a small scale), or at least to open some well-placed cracks in it, like that ancient wall, so that the new order Jesus preached can begin to flourish.

         It is as Leonard Cohen wrote:

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
That's how the light gets in
That's how the light gets in

         Let’s color outside the lines, go beyond what we know and are comfortable with, and offer more than what we are required to offer.  After all, that is how the light gets in.  That is how God’s dream will become a reality.

Matthew 5:21-37 "Lessons Learned"

         With Valentine’s Day coming up this week, our creative energy turns to poetry…

“Roses are red, violets are blue, my heart is full of love for you.”  “I loved you yesterday, I love you still, I always have, I always will.”  Likewise, our stomachs turn not only to the Sweetheart Brunch after worship today but also to heart-shaped boxes of Whitman’s Samplers and Godiva Chocolate.  In short, we are coming up on the day of love.

         Now - I do not want to put a damper on this upcoming special day of candy, flowers, and sweethearts.  However, just for a moment, think back to the very first time that your heart was broken, and love did not turn out as planned. 

         Maybe it was when the fellow you had a crush on in high school never asked you out – or worse, turned you down when you finally got up the courage to invite him to a Sadie Hawkins dance.  Maybe it was the girl who excused herself to go to the restroom at the junior high semi-formal when the band slowed it down and began playing a slow romantic song by the Lettermen.  Maybe it was not a person at all who broke your heart that first time, but a beloved pet that died.  

         That was the case with one blogger I read this past week who had this to say about the death of her cat.  “I wept bitterly and was inconsolable for some time. Friends gave me advice, simple advice: If it hurts so much to lose a cat, don't get another cat! A few weeks later I went to my uncle's barn, saw a sweet ginger kitten, and fell in love again.  

         (And here comes the part of this story that is important for us this morning.  Our blogger continues.) Turns out that the balm for a broken heart is to open it again to love. There is no such thing as a safe heart. Taking a chance and loving leads to a pain in my heart. Lesson learned. But loving with all my heart is worth it. Better lesson learned.”

         Those lessons learned lie at the heart of these verses from the Sermon on the Mount that we just read, and this passage does not contain the gentle refrains of the Beatitudes either.  The words are shocking at first glance – and hardly seems the stuff on which a sermon should focus so close to Valentine’s Day. 

         First of all, if you take Jesus seriously, this part of his sermon is patterned on some rather disturbing phrases – “You have heard….but I say…” Similarly, it is filled with loaded words – adultery, divorce, lawsuits, anger, lust.  On top of all that, surely at least some of these verses hit us deeply.  Not only is Jesus stern, he is really raising the bar and upping the ante.  We find nothing gentle about these teachings; they are downright harsh.  As Lutheran pastor Amy Kumm-Hanson notes, “These words of Jesus sting, because they hit us right in our broken hearts.” 

“You have heard it said to the people long ago, ‘Do not murder.’ I’m telling you that anyone who is so much as angry with a brother or sister is guilty of murder.”

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.

“It has been said, ‘Anyone who divorces his wife must give her a certificate of divorce.’  But I tell you that anyone who divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, makes her the victim of adultery.”

“Again, you have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘Do not break your oath, but fulfill to the Lord the vows you have made.’  But I tell you, do not swear an oath at all.”

         Surely these words of Holy Scripture make us squirm and feel all creepy inside, for there is not one among us who has not felt a bit of road rage or at least serious irritation toward yet another person running a red light right in front of us.  It may be easy not to murder, but, wow, is it ever difficult not to hold a grudge or to do the hard work of forgiveness. 

         There is not one among us, I would bet, who has not at some point along the way cast a quick glance at a pair of shapely legs – or well-hewn biceps either.  It may never cross your mind to actually commit adultery, but a wee fantasy every now and then, well, that may be a different story.

         Some of us come to this faith community divorced – or contemplating divorce.  All of us come as oath breakers, another term for downright liars.  Each one of us comes with a heart that has, at one time or another, been broken.  We all come as followers of Jesus, but, just the same, we come wondering what exactly we are supposed to do with his hardcore language in these verses. 

         As we did a couple of weeks ago with the Beatitudes, let’s look first at what these verses are not.  Kumm-Hanson writes about two such interpretive errors. First, she notes that they are not simply lessons in morality. “Well, Jesus said that divorce is prohibited, so you simply must stay in a relationship at any cost, because to marry again or enter into another relationship after divorce would mean that you are committing adultery.  And we can see what happens to adulterers.”  

         Such a misplaced rationale leads to profound unhappiness in a relationship at best, and at the worst, can create an environment that perpetuates abuse and effectively closes off escape routes for those who experience abuse. It puts up a barrier between the “righteous people” (which is where we would like to see ourselves) and “those other people” (those who are not quite as righteous as we think that we are).” 

         Second, she notes that these verses are not some sort of history lesson and illustrates her point with this interpretation:  “Jesus lived in a patriarchal society.  Women had no way of providing for themselves and needed to be cared for by men, so divorce would cause a woman to become destitute.  And Jesus didn’t want that, so he decided to prohibit divorce.  But since women are perfectly capable of providing for themselves now, we can just ignore what Jesus is saying.”  If we dismiss the text as an ancient legal prescription for how to live, we do not have to hear how it speaks to our lives now.”

         Though Kumm-Hanson only points to two errors interpreting this passage, a third one would be to see Jesus as being terribly passive aggressive and, in a backhanded way, putting us in our place.  When we look at these verses from that perspective, we are in danger of falling into the trap of knowing that we will never measure up – even if we have the very best of intentions.

         After all, we are only human and do not have complete control over our thoughts and emotions.  That being said, then, how easy it would be to conclude: Why bother to even try?  Let’s just move along to some easier Biblical verses to live by.

         But….Roses are red, violets are blue, my heart is full of love for you.”  “I loved you yesterday, I love you still, I always have, I always will.”  Whitman’s Samplers and Godiva Chocolate.  We are hard up against the day of love.  However, real love is not a solitary thing.  True love always involves another. 

         These verses then are not about YOU and only YOU.  These verses are about YOU living in community.  These verses are about YOU and your relationship with others.  It is like the beginning of John Donne’s poem:

No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;  if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe  is the less…

         What Jesus is telling us in no uncertain terms is that our relationships matter.  God cares deeply and passionately about our relationships and how we treat one another.  Why?  Because God loves each and every one of us – Christian, Muslim, gay, straight, Latino, African, rich, poor, Mayflower descendent and illegal immigrant – all of us. 

 And so, as Lutheran pastor David Lose writes: It’s not enough just to refrain from murder. We are called to also treat each other with respect and to not speak with hateful words.

·       It is not enough to avoid physically committing adultery. We are called to also not objectify other persons by seeing them as a means to satisfy our own needs and desires.

·       It is not enough to follow the letter of the law regarding divorce. We are called to also not treat people as disposable and therefore must make sure that the most vulnerable among us are provided for. It is not enough to keep ourselves from swearing falsely or lying to others. We are called to also speak and act truthfully in all of our dealings so that we do not need to make oaths at all.

         When Jesus takes the ancient Mosaic law and both broadens and deepens it as he does so handily in this passage, he is telling us that God does not care if we keep to the letter of the law for God’s sake.  What God really cares about is our keeping the law for our sake.  Why?  Because when we do, that is when we have chosen life – as our Old Testament reading directed us to do.  That is when we are at our best.

         At the heart of these verses is Jesus’ deep concern for the strength and love that binds together our relationships with others and draws us into community.  He is more concerned about us becoming whole persons and our broken hearts mended than he is about our unthinking and sometimes unfeeling compliance with the letter of the law. 

         Right relationships built on respect, authenticity, and trust in the context of community are key to our being citizens of the kingdom, participants in God’s dream for the world.  Because we are followers of Jesus, because we are his disciples who are challenged to be in community with the whole world, we embrace a different understanding of life itself, and these verses we just read bring that important point home. 

         What damage can be caused by our anger toward others?  What happens when we abuse or even defile those relationships that ought to be precious to us?  What harm are we causing when we compromise serious trusts and commitments?  Those are the questions we ought to be asking ourselves as we reflect on this passage rather than failing to see beyond the black and white statements that anger is always wrong and divorce a sin.

         Each week of this worship series, we have said that, if we are indeed following the path Jesus illuminates for us, it is not enough to say simply that we believe.  We are called to live out Jesus’ teachings.  For us today, that means that we are called to understand and affirm the importance of right and healthy relationships.  

         "In each of the scenarios Jesus is calling for an entirely new way of viewing human relationships," as New Testament scholar Charles Cousar writes. "Behind the prohibitions lies the vision of a restored humanity."

         This passage challenges us to look deep inside our own hearts and see the world in a new way – and then ask ourselves the difficult questions of how we might be contributing to the breakdown of relationships and also how we can strengthen and mend them.  Do we have a vision for justice that will bring about healing and equality? Do we have a vision for reconciliation that will provide a hope and a future for those who are down-and-out? As UCC pastor Karen Georgia Thompson said, “The text takes us to hard places that involve looking at our hearts and creating newness within.”

         When our hearts crack and are broken open out of love, we acknowledge that our relationships matter.  We affirm that we must not live isolated from one another.   When our hearts crack and are broken open, we embrace the realization that we touch the lives of those whom our culture has chewed up and spat out – just as they touch our lives.  And so we are not really fed until those who hold out their bowls to us are fed as well.  We do not rest easy until all have a place to call home.  God means for us to exist and flourish in community, in a community that keeps expanding until it embraces the whole world. 

         My prayer for us then as we head toward Valentine’s Day is that we will remember those first lessons learned about love:  That the balm for a broken heart is to open it again because there is no such thing as a safe heart. That taking a chance and loving may lead to pain, but loving with all your heart is worth it.  

                 

         

Matthew 5:13-20 "But Here's the Thing..."

         Last Sunday, our worship focused on the first verses of the Sermon on the Mount in the Gospel of Matthew.  Remember?  We read the Beatitudes – those timeless blessings meant to remind us of the foundation on which God’s dream for the world is built.  There will be the peacemakers who seek unity rather than divisiveness and the merciful who are committed to reconciliation and forgiveness.  There will be the women and men who stand up for justice and speak out against oppression.  There will be those who mourn - be it a person or the death of community or the vibrant church or the earth. 

         In spite of their brash pronouncement that the world is turning upside down – or maybe it is tilting right side up, there is something quiet and gentle about the Beatitudes.  In our mind’s eye, Jesus speaks softly as he enumerates them. 

         But here’s the thing.  Should these blessings lull us into complacency – yeah, yeah, we can be peacemakers if we need to be, merciful if it suits us; should they become like elevator music in the background of our lives – yeah, yeah, that is something to definitely aspire to in the future, it’s a pie-in-the-sky sort of thing; should they become little more than white noise, well, Jesus just will not let us get away with that. 

         You see, in the next few verses of this so-called sermon, the verses we just read, Jesus lays out in no uncertain terms the role we – you and I - are called to play in this new world dawning, this new structure for living that is Gods’ dream.

          “You are the salt of the earth,” Jesus declares.  (And of even more importance to us this morning given our worship theme of light and illuminated paths) “You are the light of the world.”

         Now, this was not some newfangled nametag he was bestowing on his disciples.  It was not a job description come out-of-the-blue.  After all, Jesus was a Jew, and the Jewish people had a close relationship with the metaphor of light.  The Torah was the prime mediator of divine light.  God was first and foremost the light-giver.  Israel herself was to be a light to the nations. 

         But here’s the thing.  In this Sermon on the Mount, Jesus gives the well-known and well-loved metaphor of light a bit of a twist – and brings it home – up close and personal, so to speak.  “You are the light of the world.” 

         That indicative that implies the imperative, that statement that is fundamentally a command surely made Jesus’ followers stop short, furrow their brows, scratch their heads, and wonder what he was getting at.  You see, living as they did under Roman domination, they generally thought of Rome as the “light of the world.” They were the people living in darkness.  “But no,” Jesus says.  “Not Rome, not Congress, not the President, but YOU are the light of the world.” 

         And their response?  Our response?  Well, it is like (or actually not like) the woman who was checking out at the grocery store one morning. The perky cashier handed her the receipt and said with the utmost cheer, "Have a nice day!" To which the woman replied, "I'm sorry, but I have other plans."

         But here’s the thing. Such a flip response is not an option here if we really are intent on walking the path that Jesus illuminates for us.  There are no other plans.  These are the plans. Jesus is saying to us – to me and to you and you and you and you:  “Go, be light.”  And not just any old light.  Be the light that illuminates the city on the hill.  Be the light that all the world will see.

        And if his listeners still did not get what he meant, well, Jesus went on to admonish them to let their light shine before others, so that the world might see their good deeds and in that way maybe even see God.  “Be who God has called you to be.  Live as God meant for you to live,” he implored them.  “Be light because you are light.” 

         Remember that Jesus did not say, “ You should be light,” or “Please try to be light,” or even “Here’s how you can be light.  Jesus is not politely requesting that we make ourselves into light.  He is not telling us to become something else because it is something we already are. Jesus says, “You are light.”

         As Episcopal priest and Biblical scholar Barbara Brown Taylor wrote, “’You are the light of the world,’ Jesus says to those sitting right in front of him, though they have done absolutely nothing to deserve that accolade….The disciples have not done anything to distinguish themselves at this point.

         ‘You are the light of the world,’ he says, giving them the t-shirts before they have even run the race. Then he shows them where the start line is. “No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house.

In the same way, let your light shine before others,” he says.  Only how are they supposed to do that, exactly? By walking around looking all sunny and saved? By telling other people how they can become shiny too? Maybe so, but that’s not where Jesus puts the emphasis.

         (Taylor continues.) ‘Let your light shine before others so that they may see your good works and give glory to your (God) in heaven,’ he says. (There you have it.) You have the t-shirt, which is yours no matter what. That’s the grace part. And it’s true, too: you are the light of the world. (But take note of this) The wattage is up to you.

         (Taylor reminds us that) if you decide that fifteen watts is all you can manage, well, then, the world around you just won’t be very well lit. You’ll still be the light of it—that part is nonnegotiable—but don’t expect it to be much brighter than a closet in there.

         If, on the other hand, you decide to go all out, then happy are they who live near you. Happy are they who share the world with you, because their visibility will be so much better when you’re around that they may be able to see beyond your good works. They may be able to see all the way to God.”

         Think about it: Taylor has said a most un-Protestant thing – and I agree with her.  Good works matter.  God expects us to step up.  Knowing God’s word is not a substitute for doing it.  Sitting in worship every Sunday is not enough.  We need to be changing lives.  We need to be transforming the world. Good works count.  It is not some Old Testament thing we can ignore.  It is right there in the Sermon on the Mount.  You are light, so let your light shine, so it will illuminate your good works. 

         And what are those good works to be?  The old prophet Isaiah lays them out for us.  We are to loose the bonds of injustice, we are to let the oppressed go free. We are to share our bread with the hungry.  We are to bring the homeless refugees into our towns and cities.  We are to live and care for one another in such a way that we make a difference in the lives of others.

         Now how we go about doing that can be through a host of activities – food pantries, mission trips, health and school kits.  But here’s the thing.  To look only to those activities we here at RVCC have been doing for as long as I have been your pastor is to ignore what is currently right in front of us.

         Face it – no matter where you are on the political spectrum, it is hard not to agree that our nation is beset by troubling times, times that call into question the very theology of the mainstream church.  We have an administration that many do not trust, a President who boasts building a wall across our southern border with Mexico, that has left Muslim Americans and other marginalized groups feeling unsafe, and that has argued pugnaciously even with our Allies. We have a Congress that is deeply divided and a population that is equally polarized and quick to throw labels – conservative, progressive, leftist, and alt-right.  The future is anything but clear.  How can we be sure of who or what to believe?

         But here’s the thing.  No matter how we vote or what our political affiliation is, we are still the light.  We are disciples of Jesus, followers of the Gospel.  And, as Lutheran pastor Karoline Lewis wrote, “The Gospel is not a viewpoint. Not an opinion. Not an alternative fact. The Gospel is (our) truth-teller. 

         (And) the Gospel does not censor. It does not silence the already oppressed. It does not cast suspicion on those who are other. It does not act out of fear. It does not bar membership. It does not legislate exclusion. It does not look aside and say that God’s earth isn’t hurting. It does not ban the perceived outsider. It does not build walls to keep others out.”  The Gospel is our illuminated path.

         I do not care who you voted for last November, and I do not wish to know.  After all, one of our proudly held traditions here is that we welcome everyone.  Our church is a safe place for those with all points of view.  However, our church is also a place where I as your pastor will try week in and week out to preach the Gospel, to remind us of the path Jesus illuminates for us, remind us of what he taught:

…That the Gospel is our truth

…That we are called to honor the forgotten ones

…That we welcome the immigrant, the refugee, and the stranger – almost as if we were welcoming Jesus himself

...That we work for justice for people of all races, nationalities, religions, and genders, so that they know we have their back

         Now is our time.  Now is our Church’s time to become engaged, to stand up for that Gospel.  

When we, as individuals and the Church as a faith community, fail to speak up, that is when the path becomes dim and our light is diminished.  When all we focus on is not rocking the boat, fitting in by caving to the pressures of alternative facts, that is when our light goes out, and the city on the hill is thrown into darkness. 

         You are the light of the world.  You are the lighthouse keepers, the solar panels.  It is one thing to claim your identity as a child of God through baptism.  It is another thing entirely to live that identity. 

         Oh, it would be so easy to give in to the darkness – to the fear and the distrust and the polarization.  But here’s the thing.  Also embedded in the Gospel is hope – and a promise, a promise from Jesus himself that all the darkness we may sense around us does not have the last word.  Christ has the last word.  Light has the last word.  And because we know that to be true – “the light shines in the darkness and the darkness will never put it out” – and because we are the light of the world - you and I – we have a responsibility to live that calling – now more than ever.  With the help of God and the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we are called – because we are light – to become engaged in this crazy world around us, for the sake of our nation but much more so for the sake of God’s dream unfolding, not just in the future but now.