"Jesus' Last Prayer"

“You Have Heard it Said”

Matthew 5:21-48

A Sermon preached by the Rev. Douglas M. Donley

October 7, 2007

University Baptist Church

Minneapolis, MN

 

            How do you know something is true?  Is it true because someone has said it?  Is it true because it is written down?  Is it true because it has been repeated enough times that it becomes “common knowledge”? 

            For centuries, it was a known fact that the world was flat.

            It was also a known fact that the earth is only 6000 years old.  It’s written down in a book, you know.  There’s a story in UBC lore that this building was built to house the Minnesota Baptist Convention.  But when it came time for them to move in, they demanded that we sign a statement denouncing evolution.  We’re UBC and we have a long tradition of thinking for ourselves.  UBC refused to sign and the Minnesota Baptist Convention never moved into this seemingly heretical place.

            It was a known fact that the sun revolved around the earth.  I was also taught that the moon was made of green cheese and that thunder is angels bowling.

            How do you know what’s true and what isn’t.

            Are people terrorists or freedom fighters?

            Are all people who are not pro-life therefore pro-death?

            Are all people who don’t believe like we do heretics?

            There’s a great exchange in the musical “Wicked” between the Wizard and the Elphaba, the so-called wicked witch of the West.  As Elphaba unveils him as a shyster, the Wizard defends himself by saying: 

“I only lied to them verbally.  Besides, they were lies they wanted to hear.  The truth is not a thing of fact or reason.  The truth is just what everyone agrees on.  Where I’m from we believe all sorts of things that aren’t true.  We call it “history”.  A man’s called a “traitor”—or “liberator”.

            A rich man’s a “thief”—or “philanthropist”.

            Is one a “crusader”—or a “ruthless invader?”

            It’s all in which label is able to persist.  There are precious few at ease with moral ambiguities.  So we act as if they don’t exist.  They call me “wonderful.”  So I am wonderful.  In fact, it’s so much who I am that it’s part of my name.  And with my help, you can be the same.”  We all know that her name becomes “wicked,” whether based on fact or fiction.

            Deciding what is true and what is not is an important exercise.  But it is a relatively recent idea that we look at the Bible as inerrant and infallible.  When we do that, we can almost come to bibliolatry—making an idol of the Bible.  During the first of my three ordination councils 18 years ago, one person who was horrified by my candidacy asked me to give my statement of faith.  I said, “I’m a child of God and I feel called to spread the good news of justice, mercy peace and liberation to all of the people.”  He said, “That’s not a statement of faith.  A statement of faith is saying that the Bible is the infallible, inerrant Word of God and you have to base your life upon that.”  He voted against me.

            In Biblical times, it was common to have dialogue about truth.  It’s an ancient rabbinical tradition.  The Babylonian Talmud dates back almost 2000 years and it is a wonderful collection of people who argue about scripture.   You have the scripture in the center, with a commentary by Rabbi Shammai on one side, Rabbi Hillel on another.  They contradict each other and they tell stories that enhance certain scriptural passages. They call this commentary midrash.

There’s a famous midrash on the song of triumph that Aaron and Miriam sing as the Egyptians are drowning in the Red Sea.  One of the rabbis has God speak through Moses and say, “do not dance and sing and celebrate, rather mourn.  For the Egyptians were my people, too.”

            The writer of Matthew has the story of Jesus continue in that vein.  More than any other gospel writer, Matthew cites Hebrew Scripture.  He goes to great lengths to explain that this happened to fulfill what the prophet Isaiah said.  Or this happened to fulfill the proverb…Matthew’s Gospel is a midrash on the Messianic work of God.  Jesus is clearly the messianic priest who argues and unlocks the keys to the Hebrew Scriptures.

            In the Sermon on the Mount (Chapters 5-7), we find Jesus’ central teaching.  He positions himself as the priest who holds court in a synagogue.  Only his synagogue is not within the walls, but out on a hillside overlooking the Sea of Galilee.

            As he speaks to the gathered masses, he does a midrash on scripture.  He quotes favorite scriptures and gives his own take on them.  You have heard it said….But I say to you.

            He speaks as one with authority.  No one tries to run him out of town or kill him for saying these words.  He’s simply doing what rabbis did in the synagogue.  He was arguing scripture.  Of course his arguments hit close to home. 

He wasn’t talking about whether to wear the right clothes or how to eat you food. 

He was talking about loving enemies, committing adultery, killing and having anger, basically, making yourself more worthy of the name Jewish—Christianity hadn’t been invented yet at the time of the sermon.

Actually it had by the time of the writing of Matthew, and Matthew wanted to draw a line directly from the Hebrew Scriptures to Jesus.

I’ve been on that hillside, back in 1992.  I remember sitting on that hillside down from the monastery and overlooking the sheep fields below. 

Our group of clergy tourists read Matthew’s version of the Sermon on the Mount.  It was a heady experience, sitting on that same hillside almost 2000 years after Jesus did.  Sitting and reading the words that so many other pilgrims had read before.  Mahatma Gandhi said that his heart melted when he read the Sermon on the Mount.  When he was asked what the difference between him and most Christians was, Gandhi said, “I think Jesus meant it.”

            While we were reading, though, reality settled in.  Off in the distance we saw two specks in the southern sky.  They looked like birds but as they got closer, we could see that they were military helicopters.  They were headed toward Lebanon.  Our tax dollars could well have purchased that helicopter.  As they got closer, we had to read louder and louder.  You have heard it said, (flap, flap, flap)“Love your friends and hate your enemies, (flap, flap, flap) but I say to you love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”(FLAP, FLAP, FLAP)

            As we ponder, “Whose Gospel is it Anyway?”, maybe we need to look at our forgone assumptions and put a Jesus perspective on it. 

            Let’s look at some of our sacred truths:

You have heard it said, all Muslims are terrorists, but I say to you, you shall not slander an entire religion based upon the actions of a few.  You could rightly say the crusaders were terrorists.  Or the Contras, or the people trained at the School of the Americas in Fort Bennings Georgia.   Oppose the actions of the terrorists, but don’t fall into guilt by association.

You have heard it said, “Immigrants are trying to take our jobs”, but I say to you, we have given jobs to immigrants because they are willing to work for minimal wages.  They are also flooding to the US because of the failed policies of NAFTA, CAFTA and the global economic crisis.  Almost all of us are immigrants.  Diversity is a challenge but it is not the enemy.  Intolerance and poor economic policies are the enemies.

            You have heard it said, homosexuality is a sin, but I say to you not only is homosexuality as we know it today not addressed in the Bible, judgementalism is a sin and those who cast this stone, ought to examine more closely the fact that the church by and large does not know how to deal with any kind of sexuality.  Until we have a healthy ethic of sexuality in the church—no abuse, no harassment, no untoward comments or leers, no hierarchy that makes males superior to females, no misogyny, no minimizing of situations of abuse or sweeping them under the rug.  Until we have that kind of ethic, we have no business projecting our inadequacies onto one vulnerable group.

You have heard it said, we can’t afford to pay taxes, but I say to you, neither can our grandkids.  Schools, health care, roads, clean energy are worthy expenses.

You have heard it said, “might makes right,” but I say to you, right makes right.  We cannot continue to live the fallacy of redemptive violence.  Violence is never redemptive and always destructive.  There is a PBS documentary that is coming on about the Conscientious Objectors in World War II.  This is the untold story in Ken Burns’ special on the War.  Michael Lubke and I met with one of the Minnesota 8 on Thursday.  Michael will be in play in late February depicting the lives and struggles of these eight people who opposed the draft during the Vietnam War.  The person we met used a religious argument to support his opposition to war.  After 14 witnesses, the judge threw out his religiously based objections to war as irrelevant. 

My friends, we have heard it said that the world is a big place and we each need to have our own little corner of it.  But on this World Communion Sunday, we remember that we are all united by this table, this meal.  We follow one who challenged the easy answers and called us to look deeper.  To argue.  To disagree, but to never do so in a violent way. 

This table is a symbol of unity, of faithfulness, of hope for a world where everyone respects each other’s ways.  May it be so with all of us.

 

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