Luke 6:27-38
When I was a little girl, I was lucky to have a family that went to church every Sunday, and lucky that the church they chose was often on the cutting edge of justice and global mission and putting the love of Jesus into practice. I’m thinking about that church this week because of the verse at the end of our scripture. Every Sunday when it was time for the offering, our pastor would quote this verse: Give and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap, for the measure you give will be the measure you get back. I want to report honestly that to my ten-year-old mind this verse was never proven to be true. I dutifully put my offering envelope into the plate every Sunday – an envelope divided in half, holding a nickel on the side marked “for the church” and a nickel on the side marked “for mission.” I knew that our congregation’s goal was to give away to the world an amount equal to what they kept for heat and lights and kid’s programs and salaries. I knew that I was supposed to tithe because we were from a tithing family, tracing back to my grandparents, and I was smart enough to know that 2 nickels was actually 40% of my quarter allowance, which some days gave me unseemly pride. Every Sunday the envelope went into the plate, and no money ever came back.
Now I know that what I received in return wasn’t a cash transaction, it was formation – a deep understanding of what it means to be part of God’s world that’s seeped into my bones and shapes who I have become. I wasn’t about what I did and what I received in return, it was about who I am and who we are all meant to be. Today’s entire scripture isn’t about what we do and what reward we receive; it’s about being, beyond words to describe, the presence of God in the world. It’s about being love, because God IS love.
Love your enemies and do good to those who hate you; bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat you…If someone strikes you on the cheek, turn the other. If someone steals your coat, give them the shirt off you back. These are things Jesus was suggesting people do. We could see them as a code of conduct. Scholars tell us they may be much more. If a soldier patrolling your town abused you by slapping you, they would do so with the back of their hand. It was a sign of derision, someone in power belittling someone with no power. Those standing nearby might laugh. But if that person stood up again and turned the other cheek, daring the soldier to strike again, it would require a slap with the open palm. That’s the kind of blow exchanged by equals. Offering that other cheek gives the peasant the same dignity as the soldier. It’s a blow accepted by choice, which demands recognition as a fellow human. Even inviting the blow is a victory of sorts. In the same way soldiers could require the coat of anyone passing by and must have often enough that this story sounded familiar to those listening. Jesus suggests that giving up not only your coat but then offering your shirt makes the giving a choice and not a requirement. It expresses generosity in the face of derision. And it gets the soldier in trouble for exceeding what could be asked. It bestows dignity on the giver and takes it from the abuser. Jesus is perhaps advocating nonviolent protest, changing the power dynamic in the village just a bit.
The Empire counted on those whose lands were occupied being afraid of what the soldiers might do. Fear was a means of control. But if you are determined to love rather than to be afraid, you take back your autonomy. When Jesus says “love your enemy,” he isn’t talking about squishy emotions. He’s not talking about welcoming abuse in any form. Instead he’s teaching people that the essence of their being, their God-given nature, is love. Love is who you are, and no soldier or Empire can take that away from you unless you give it up to them. One of the greatest gifts God gives to us is the image of God within us – God who IS love. When we choose to live from that image, to be love in the world, we are replacing the external world and all its rulers with the heart of creation, the reign of God, the world as God shows us it can be.
Right now the powers that control our world want us to be afraid. They want us to be confused by countless illegal and immoral actions that seem to take away our agency. The want us to worry that our identity will be stolen, our friends deported, our funding frozen, our research censored, our future changed beyond recognition. Those things may or may not happen to us. But we still get to choose who we are and how we will respond. Jesus encourages us to respond with love, generosity, and mercy, because when we show those qualities we are standing up for who we are, and no one can take that away unless we let them.
Yesterday Krista Tippet quoted a story from Naomi Remen told by her Jewish grandfather. It’s about Tikkun Olam, the privilege of being the co-creators of the world. In the beginning, when God created all that is, God took the power of love, the power of light, and broke it into a million, million pieces. Then God places within each person, each creature, each bit of beauty in the world, a piece of that light. And with the light of God hidden within everything that is, God asked us to find the light. Watch for the light in your neighbor, in your school or workplace, in your garden, in your country. And when you see the light, call it forward so it can shine. When you see the light and name it, you are completing the creation that God began and bringing this moment in time one bit closer to the goodness that God intends. When you name the light, you are uncovering the presence of Love and giving it power to overcome all that hurts or destroys.
This is a holy task, gifted to each one of us and to all of us together. Some days it’s too much to ask that we as individuals find the power to love those who are causing harm. To love an unruly child, a difficult coworker, a bully, a person of influence who remains silent and allows hatred or intolerance a voice, a government bent on doing harm to those most vulnerable. That’s why we stand together, so that when it’s too much for one of us, we have friends to help. We can take turns, seeing and naming light, so that we don’t give up hope. We believe that the light is still present and we can trust it as we trust each other. It’s a happy accident that we have put in the heart of our worship a time to name light. How lucky we are that we have that practice to sustain us.
I’ll admit that there are days I feel discouraged, almost defeated, certainly crabby and unloving. Thank you for holding me up and holding me accountable in those days. I hope I can do the same for you. Please remember – you are the light of the world; you are the love of God made flesh in this moment in time. Jesus has shown us how to live with hope and joy in the face of hardship. He has shown us how to encourage each other and to believe that there is always more light, a new life, a better tomorrow. It’s not always possible to feel kindly toward those who are causing harm, but it is possible to love them because we ARE love. And when we allow the light of love to show through us, no matter how dim, we are creating a new world, God’s world, and we are holding the light of hope for everyone.