Matthew
5:21-37; Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Psalm 119:1-8; 1 Corinthians 3:1-9
(look these up on biblegateway.com or bible.oremus.org.)
Last
week, the Gospel raised some uncomfortable questions. You might remember Jesus’ saying (Matt.
5:17-18) “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets. I have come not to abolish, but to
fulfill. Truly I tell you, until heaven
and earth pass away, not one letter nor one stroke of a letter will pass from
the law until all is accomplished.” When
I read the Gospel for this morning, I really wanted to handle these passages
together, because they do sound just a little bit ominous and perhaps even
provoke a certain sense of fear—especially these verses about tearing out eyes
and cutting off hands and going to hell and so forth.
So
what on earth does Jesus mean? Last week
it all sounded so inspiring: Be salt. Be
light. This week the teachings seem so
hard. So where I would like to start
addressing this question is with...Love.
Love is the message
of the Gospel and the measure of the law.
What
I believe Jesus is trying to say in these texts is that there are plenty of
opportunities to merely follow the letter of the law, without putting our heart
into it. Other times, we follow both the
letter and the spirit of the law. Probably
more often than not, we even know when we are doing this. We might call it ‘going through the motions.’ We might wonder what we can get away with,
rather than wondering how we might, say, go the extra mile. Or we might also head to the other extreme,
which is becoming legalistic, too committed to the letter of the law to
recognize the spirit.
Why
do we do this? Sometimes I think it’s
because we’re overwhelmed by all those "opportunities," the long list of choices we have to make every day. Or perhaps we’re
angry or tired, or convinced we know better, or whatever. Sometimes I think it’s
because we’re afraid of being hurt if we truly put our heart into something or
make ourselves vulnerable to one another.
And yet, what a relief often
comes when we know we have truly put our heart into something, especially the
example Jesus gives of going to be reconciled to a person you know you’ve hurt,
before making your offering in worship.
This being Valentine’s weekend, it reminds me of an adage that’s kept
harmony in our own home: “You can be ‘right,’
or you can be married.” And then there’s Jesus' example of adversaries
going into court: you could litigate to
the very bitter end, spending all your
energy and money in the process—or you could find a way to settle before it
gets there…and be able to get on with the rest of your lives. Anyone who’s been through painful litigation,
even a divorce, can probably resonate with that.
And
yet, to reconcile or to settle is not to act as if you’ve never caused harm, or
been harmed, as the case may be, or as if whatever happened didn’t matter. Jesus isn’t talking about cheap grace. Rather, love
holds each other accountable to our actions within the life of the community.
Accountability
for our actions is also what makes forgiveness
possible. Forgiveness isn’t forgetting, because mere forgetting
fails to acknowledge the existence of the law in the first place, or that there
was ever a need to be forgiven when we have failed one another. I would even say that forgetting is harder
than forgiving, because somewhere on down the line, something will happen that
will bring back that memory, and it will probably still hurt, maybe even with a
hurt as fresh and raw as the day it happened.
We probably all have enough of our own examples already. Forgiving is both acknowledging the truth of
events, and loving either one another or even ourselves, enough to let go of
that hurt’s grip on the rest of our lives.
In doing so, we choose to truly live.
Now,
that’s not easy. We probably couldn’t fathom
doing such a thing as forgiving others, or asking someone else to forgive us,
without the help of God, who first forgave us and freed us to forgive one
another and to be forgiven. And even
more practically speaking, we need our community around us, to hold us
accountable, and to help us through the process of forgiveness, when we have
failed to fulfill our obligations to one another.
++
The
last few weeks here have been a bit of a blur and today, this final day, and
final worship service, and final hour of service to you as your pastor, has
come around really rather quickly. I
realized as this day was drawing near that there was no possible way to make
all the visits, or phone calls, or even to write all the notes that I would
have liked to do. It would not be
possible to follow through on every request, or even every hope for projects I
wanted to complete before going. And I
was deeply distressed about not being able to ‘do it all.’
Then,
in preparation for today, I read through the liturgy that we’ll be using at the
end of the worship service, which brings a prayerful end to our ministry
together, and I found it very comforting.
I
realized then what a gift it is in this liturgy that we will use today, to
simply ask forgiveness for all the things I could not do. It is a gift to be forgiven, even in the
midst of celebrating and remembering all the things that have been done, the
visits and calls made and projects completed and hopes realized and all the
good things of these past two years as well.
And,
I realized, that I would have to rely on the Christian community that is
present in this place, to care for everyone and help those in need, after today
when I am no longer able to do so. I
also realized that I would have to put my trust in God, and in whoever comes to
take my place, that the work of ministry and pastoral care will continue.
Paul
put it so well when he wrote that one of us might plant and another water, but
it is God who gives the growth. We are
each called to our times and means of serving, and we each have gifts through
which we may share God’s love, which is the common purpose for everything we
do. I realize today that we may, some of
us, not see each other again in this lifetime, but will only be reunited in
heaven. We have been God’s servants,
working together; you are God’s servants and God’s building. I give thanks for you, and for the time we
have shared together. I love you, and I
leave you with peace.
Amen.
Hymns: Thy Word Is A Lamp Unto My Feet, Seek Ye First, We Are One In The Spirit, Make Me A Channel Of Your Peace
Prayers This Week For:
+People of Syria
+All who struggle with the winter weather
+All who are in entrenched conflicts or struggling with relationships