Being like Jesus
A homily from the following Book of Common Prayer daily office reading:
Matthew 5:27-48
[Jesus said,] “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell.
“It was also said, ‘Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.’ But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.
“Again, you have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.’ But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No’; anything more than this comes from the evil one.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."
I’ve been discussing a thought a lot recently that our dating app/Instagram/The Bachelor culture has created a perfect storm for people to view one another as disposable. We consume one another, and quickly discard, move along to the next partner or the next friend group, or even church, knowing there’s always another option. In reading these few verses from the Sermon on the Mount, though, I’m reminded this isn’t a societal problem as much as it’s a human problem: acquire, consume, discard, repeat. Jesus steps into this problem—into people treating one another this way and feeling self-justified because they know they’re not technically breaking any laws—and from there, he raises the bar.
These few verses from the Sermon on the Mount don’t raise the bar for moral behavior in order to set some impossible example to try to achieve. Jesus isn’t trying to scare his audience into repenting or getting their acts together. Jesus is protecting the disempowered and marginalized people of the society by putting the onus of responsibility where it goes. The agent of power, the holder of status—this is the one who is responsible for creating social systems of love and self-sacrifice instead of consuming, using, and abusing one another. Jesus sought out the marginalized during his ministry because the systems of power had failed them and they needed intervention. And here he’s addressing the perfectly legal injustices that put them there, teaching that the issue is not with the law here, it’s something much deeper in the hearts of people that needs to change.
A close friend of mine is in the middle of more chaos and injustice in her life than I could ever dream would exist. We talked on the phone this week and after all the details and the updates and the groans over the whole horrible situation were all caught up, there was a moment of pure exasperation as she tries to figure out how to keep going. How do I even handle this? How do I move forward? She asked: How can I do this and be like Jesus?
Friends, Jesus didn’t come to create another impossible standard to compare ourselves to. Jesus is not abolishing the law, nor creating a new one, but fulfilling it. This is not a message to try harder to be like Jesus. In fact, the harder you try to be anything you aren’t already, chances are you’ll create a façade, and when life’s mess hits the fan, you’ll find it hard to feign that patience, faith, compassion—it will be revealed in the time of difficulty as imitation fruit.
Growth, transformation, change—they don’t happen by thinking and trying harder about how to get there. They come from an environment of safety and nurture—transformation into Love comes from an authentic encounter with your own belovedness.
People in power will never use their power to protect others until they see that they don’t need the power at all. A craving for justice cannot come simply by an increased intake of information. Knowing what’s wrong in the world doesn’t make it easier to lay down our own comfort and power for the sake of making a change. And dwelling on who or what you’d like to become doesn’t create that becoming—and it often puts us at war with ourselves.
Picture a daffodil. The plant doesn’t decide to work hard to grow its flower—at least not that I’m aware of—but when the soil and water and sunlight are present, and when the springtime temperature is finally right, they bloom almost in unison, because they have everything they need, and that’s just what a daffodil does.
Jesus’s teaching is not demanding you become someone you are not. Jesus reminds us of who we already are—beloved children of God, participants in the Divine reality of Love and Creation, agents of healing justice in the world—and also broken people who are afraid of the dirty, messy, sinful parts of ourselves. With open arms, Jesus welcomes us in, and he’s unsurprised by the wounds we carry and the darkness we find in ourselves. And from this place of acceptance and compassion, from our belovedness, we witness our own lives beginning to transform into the perfect Life of Christ—we are freed from war with ourselves, freed from our striving and our self-centered agendas—we are freed to Love God and love our neighbor. May it be so.