February 20, 2022 + Seventh Sunday after Epiphany + Luke 6:27-38 +Pr. Craig Mueller
Say what? Jesus, could you repeat what you just said? I think I heard you say the Golden Rule. You know, do unto others as you would have them do unto you. But it sounds like are you saying: Do unto others as you would have them to do you. And keep doing it even they harm or hurt you.
Wait a minute! This won’t do in today’s world. The crowds were already thinning then when Jesus uttered these words. And churches today are going emptier and emptier with advice like this.
Love your enemies? People will walk over you. Turn the other cheek? They’ll hit you again. Do good to those who hate you? They call that co-dependency. Give to everyone who begs? You won’t have anything left. You’ll find out most people don’t give to people who beg. If a robber takes one thing, hand over something else? Craziness.
But wait a minute! Think of it another way. As one author puts it, enemies, persecutors and haters cannot infect us with their toxicity. They cannot make us into what they are. Maybe what Jesus is saying is: stop the crazy, endless cycle of hatred and violence but stopping it in yourself.1
Easier said than done? Is this just preacher talk?
Two beloved, world-renowned figures, and personal heroes to me and others, died recently . . . within a month of each other. Desmond Tutu and Thich Nhat Hanh. Both addressed in word and deed themes from today’s gospel. Anger. Loving your enemy. Forgiveness.
Desmond Tutu grew up in apartheid South Africa. As Archbishop of Cape Town, he knew well racial prejudice. Yet he helped co-found The Forgiveness Project2 which shares stories of both victims and survivors, as well as perpetrators of crime. So often we think of justice as retribution. Punish people for what they deserve. Tutu believed in restorative justice—facilitating conversation and encounter, all for the sake reconciliation and transformation. And of course, we think of South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, chaired by Archbishop Tutu.
While endearing himself to so many in this country, Tutu didn’t hesitate to call out racist policies that harmed Blacks or the obscene US military budget. At the same time, his leadership helped erode gender and LGBTQ discrimination earlier than anywhere on the African continent.
We think of horrible crimes like rape, abuse, and murder. I hope fewer and fewer good church people are twisting Jesus’ words to say that a battered person should stay with their perpetrator. But forgiveness? The F Word. That’s the name of a podcast sponsored by The Forgiveness Project.
Some stories and examples can inspire us to think differently. Hashim Garrett will never forget the day when he was 15 years old and living with his mother in Brooklyn. He was drinking, ditching school, and filled with so much anger. He says he was hurting so much he wanted to hurt others.
Hashim was shot six times. One bullet him in the spine. He heard the police coming. He heard neighbors say, “he’s dying.” In that moment he remembers the anger leaving his body. The tough guy vanished.
Hashim admits that he screwed up his life even more in college. But then he was invited to tell other kids his story to help teach them to break the cycle of violence. He had a new purpose. His mentors were Ghandi and Martin Luther King who spoke about the power of forgiveness and nonviolence.
Hashim tells kids that forgiveness is extremely difficult. That is takes more courage to be non-violent and forgiving than to be violent. “I hated bullies, so I became a bully,” he says. “Hate holds on to you whereas forgiveness frees you, and if you want to forgive others, then first you need to learn to forgive yourself.”3
Wait a minute. Is it that simple? Everyone is on edge these days. Rudeness rules. Road rage is killing innocent people. There is so-called cancel culture. There is anger over masks and mandates. Anger over robbed classroom time for kids. Isolation. We’re lashing out like never before. But if only we could acknowledge our common losses. And then look with compassion one another.
Wait a minute. What if we waited a minute. If we took a breath. We blurt, we post, we burst forth without thinking. Without reflecting. I love this quote that many of you have heard before: “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space lies our freedom and power to choose our response.”4
A good time to call forth Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese monk, known worldwide for his teachings on mindfulness, compassionate listening, meditation, and nonviolence. In 1966 he met Martin Luther King, Jr. in what was a remarkable encounter for both of them. Nhat Hanh told King he was a “Bodhisattva,” or enlightened being, for his efforts to promote social justice. And the monk’s work to promote reconciliation in Vietnam led King to nominate Nhat Hang for the Nobel Peace Prize.
Thich Nhat Hanh wrote much about anger and wisdom for “cooling the flames.” In other words, waiting a minute. A holy pause, I’ll call it. A spiritual moment to reflect before reacting. Nhat Hanh reminds us that human beings are not our enemy. Our enemy is the violence, ignorance, and injustice in the other person. When we look on them with compassion, we see that they are also suffering. And then they are no longer our enemy.
So what about Jesus? Don’t forget that on the cross Jesus forgave the thief to him. That stripped of his dignity he experienced the hatred, the spitting, the abuse. Yet in life and death, he commended his spirit to a power greater than himself.
We gather together for a holy pause in our week. To wait a moment, to wait an hour. Because we know that on our own, we are not forgiving and compassionate. And what seems to rule the day is rudeness, arrogance, and reactivity. So we lean on divine mercy. Strengthened by this holy pause, strengthened by word and sacrament, we pledge together to do the hard work of love.
Thank you, Desmond Tutu. Thank you, Thich Nhat Hanh. You have embodied Jesus’ words for us in our time. In this holy pause, may God look with compassion on us, that we may look on others—whether friend or foe—with such mercy.
1 John Shea, The Relentless Widow. The Spiritual Wisdom of the Gospels for Christian Preachers and Teachers. Luke, Year C.
2 https://www.theforgivenessproject.com/
2 https://www.theforgivenessproject.com/stories-library/hashim-garrett/
3Stephen R. Covey, The 8th Habit: From Effectiveness to Greatness