Sermon 2/16/2020: Getting a Reaction Out of You (Pr. Craig Mueller)

February 16, 2020

Sixth Sunday after Epiphany

Matthew 5:21-37

Pr. Craig Mueller

Getting a Reaction Out of You

Well, that gospel is sure to get a reaction out of you.

Preachers want you to react. So you don’t fall asleep. So you don’t open your phone. So you don’t make your grocery list in your mind. We want a reaction, some reaction. A nod. A laugh. A recognition. Maybe some anger. Maybe some tears. Maybe some regret. Maybe some determination.

With a lot of the scripture texts we go into a default blank-eyed stare. I’ve heard it before. I know that story. Someone told me they heard a priest use the exact same Christmas Eve story in a sermon three years in a row. One family member bet another that they’d hear it again. And sure enough, they did. And people around them must have wondered why one particular pew was rocking from the folks trying to hold back their laughter. Especially since the story wasn’t funny at all!

But today all I have to do is read the gospel and you probably have some kind of reaction. Anger is as bad as murder. Lust as bad as cheating on your spouse. Remarriage is adultery. And if your hand causes you to sin, just it off. If your eye causes you to sin, tear it out. The gospel of the Lord. Praise to you, O Christ.

What’s your reaction? Dismiss it as a religious text out of touch? Or wonder, hey preacher-man, what are you gonna do with this one?

Today’s readings are about keeping the law, the commandments, the ordinances of God. On first glance Jesus seems to be making things harder. Jesus is saying that our righteousness needs to exceed that of the ultra-pious. Is that what we want: a certificate for being a super Christian who only says the right thing and does the right thing?

Plenty of folks these days want to flee a religion that is legalistic. Our congregation is about helping people rediscover faith communities as life-giving and not all about rules and fear-based religion.

Wait a minute. Hold your reaction. Jesus is saying something radical but in a different way. First of all, remember Jesus is a devout Jew who loves the Torah—the law—with all his heart. As one writer puts it, keeping the law is a matter of one’s inner disposition, one’s heart. It’s more than simply what one’s hands are up to, what one’s mouth says, and what one does behold the belt.

Yet, we’re not off the hook. Far from it. Much of the time, we react without thinking. We push send before calming down. We spout self-righteous hatred of folks on the wrong side of the issue. We objectify others’ bodies. We give lip service to truth telling but do all kind of slandering.

In these deeply partisan times, Ezra Klein says that helpful anger is one thing, but there is a kind of anti-politics going on. That’s not anger. It’s contempt, he says. “I don’t even need to deal with you. I’m just writing you—or a whole slew of the population—off.” And that’s a kind of violence toward the other.

And then we say: I couldn’t help it. Everybody does it. I’m just human.

One of our main challenges as human beings—in general—but especially in these times, is our reactivity. It’s called the amygdala hijack. The amygdala is the oldest part of the brain, the reptilian part. It gets us in trouble. It is all about fight, flight, freeze. Rather than thinking first, rather than taking a breath, rather than cooling off, we are reactive rather than responsive.

We act impulsively. We blurt out. We demean people. We let jealousy and quarreling take over, as Paul notes in our second reading. Our posts become rants. Our anxiety and insecurity take over. It’s all about our own pleasure, our own security, our own reputation. And we take advantage of people emotionally, sexually, politically, sometimes even religiously. Violence, indeed.

Jesus has some advice that could move us from reaction to response. I don’t know what your reaction is to the sharing of the peace. A seventh-inning stretch when you say “good morning? to people around you?

Think of it this way. When you’re estranged from someone, go to them and seek reconciliation. Maybe it’s someone in church. Or at home or work. Go shake the hand or embrace that person. Then come to communion. What we practice in the liturgy is what we seek to live in our lives.

Perhaps some of us think a bit too highly of ourselves and today’s texts are a reality check. If we have a defensive reaction, perhaps there is an invitation to take off our mask. Look into our heart. And then fall on the grace and mercy of God.

But for those of us already dealing with a fragile self-image, there is a wake-up call as well. This isn’t about self-loathing. We had 22 kids at a youth retreat last weekend. Their theme was the ten commandments. And at the heart of it is God’s desire that our human community flourish. How? Through the greatest commandment: love for God, love for neighbor, and yes, a healthy love and honoring of ourselves.

Spiritual writer Richard Rohr invites us see “sin, like addiction, as a destructive disease instead of something for which we’re culpable or punishable and that ‘makes God unhappy.’ If sin indeed makes God ‘unhappy,’ it is because God loves us, desires nothing more than our happiness, and wills the healing of the disease.”  

So often it feels like we have no agency. Months from the election, folks are sure they know the outcome. It’s easy to be sucked into a negative rabbit hole, everything is going to pieces and there is no hope. We can be reactive, or we can be responsive.

And that leads to the great wisdom from Deuteronomy: choose life, not death and destruction.

Choose to interpret these scripture passages through a liberating lens that tells the truth about who we are, and the humbling reality that we cannot save ourselves.

Choose life! God desires shalom, a beloved community, a way of life that honors the dignity of all people. Rather than treating people like they are disposable, Jesus calls us to a righteousness that reflects the very heart of God. We call it the baptismal life.

I don’t know about you, but that’s why I need a community of faith. I can’t do it on my own. We practice our faith together. We take deep breaths together. We make a difference together. We confess our sins and faults together. We stand against injustice, not with contempt for those with different viewpoints, but with empathy for the brokenness under the surface.

You’ve heard it said, “can I get an amen”? But I say to you, can I get a reaction? In other words, keep responding. Keep choosing life. Keep living your baptism.