Last Bible Study of the Semester - Tonight!

We have had a fantastic Bible Study this semester, studying and asking important questions: How can we be faithful disciples in the midst of adversity or anxiety? We have come at this topic from various angles, and we have grown closer together.

We invite everyone to join us tonight for the conclusion to this meaningful study!

Sermon: The Examined Life

Matthew 7:1-11

You know what can be excruciatingly funny? Comedic irony. I say ‘excruciating’ because it can be painfully awkward to watch, but I say ‘funny’ because. . . in certain situations, it’s just funny! Case in point: NBC’s hit show, The Office. Wow, that show is awkward! Have you seen it? I personally happen to love awkward humor, so as you might imagine, that show ranks high on my tv list.

Now when I was in 8th grade, I learned that there are three types of irony: First, there’s verbal irony. Sarcasm fits into that type. There’s also situational irony. That’s when the outcome of a situation doesn’t line up with what was expected, kind of ala Alanis Morrissette: “It’s like rain on your wedding day! Isn’t it – ironic?” But lastly, there’s dramatic irony. This involves the contrast between what a character believes to be true and what we, the audience, know to be actually true. This kind of irony runs rampant on The Office.

Just take the myriad of pranks that happen on the show. These are prime-time examples of a lack of self-awareness, a characteristic that is often truly. . .well, lacking on the show. Most of these pranks involve Jim, Pam, and of course, the most frequently pranked employee of the office, Dwight Schrute. (You just gotta love Dwight Schrute). Well here’s an example of a rather absurd case of dramatic irony:

In the third season, Jim, one of the employees, is transferred to another branch of the Dunder Mifflin paper company, but before he leaves, he steals some of Dwight’s personal stationary. And from the new branch, Jim begins to send Dwight faxes from. . . himself. From . . .the future. That’s right, faxes to Dwight from “Future Dwight.” We know what’s happening, of course – Jim is obviously sending these -- but Dwight somehow buys into it hook, line, and sinker. He receives one such fax early in the morning from his ‘future self’:

“Dwight, at 8am today someone poisons the coffee. Do NOT drink the coffee. More instructions will follow. Cordially, Future Dwight.”

After reading this fax from himself, Dwight looks up and happens to see Stanley, another employee across the office holding a coffee mug, primed to take a sip. Dwight hustles to the other side of the room, bellows “Nooooooo!” and knocks the mug out of Stanley’s hand before he has a chance to take a drink. Confidently, Dwight says, “You’ll thank me later,” right in the face of Stanley’s annoyance.

This is a comical – and I admit, an absurd example – of an ironic lack of self-awareness. Dwight is completely oblivious to the fact that he’s being pranked. In fact, Dwight is so unaware of his selfhood that he believes a divided, future self could plausibly contact him in the present moment. Dwight is painfully un-self-aware.

And when we come to our scripture tonight, we’re hearing about serious issues for sure, but there’s some humor in it too. There’s a bit of absurdity:

Who are you to judge your neighbor? There you are sleuthing out every fault you can find. “Hey friend,” you say, “Come here, you have a little, tweeny-weeny, miniscule speck in your eye. See? Right here.” Or perhaps more likely, in a more judgmental tone, you wander off with some of your friends in a corner to talk about another person. “Did you see that speck in her eye? Wow. Not attractive.” You look in her direction so you can point, but in the process, you give your friends concussions. Why? When you turn your head, the gargantuan telephone pole in your own eye takes them out.

I think there was probably some humor as Jesus told this story. Some absurdity.

But perhaps it’s humorous because it’s so true. So often, we live our lives in harsh judgment of others, but we’re unwilling to examine our own lives. We don’t know who we are or how we are. We don’t know our needs. We don’t know our growing edges. We’re painfully unaware of how we might serve someone else. We’re either sleuthing around looking at everyone else, or perhaps worse, we aren’t paying any attention at all.

There’s that famous quote attributed to Socrates: “The unexamined life is not worth living.” It probably is true to say that the unexamined life is certainly less rich while the examined life is infinitely rich. Have you found this to be true?

This week I read The Road Less Traveled, a classic best-seller by psychiatrist M. Scott Peck. One of the questions he seems asks throughout the book is this: Why do we often live an unexamined life? What is it that holds us back from truly living – from knowing ourselves intimately, growing, and extending ourselves to others? After reading his book, I think he would answer it in two ways: 1) We’re often too lazy for this kind of truly-alive living and 2) We’re often lazy because living a fully-alive life (that is, growing in knowledge and the extension of love) can be painful. It means that we address our growing pains. It means that we’re willing to enter the pains of another by extending ourselves in love.

In fact, I really like how he defines love. It involves an extension of ourselves. He defines love not as a feeling – and definitely not an oohey-gooey feeling that we hear about so often – but instead, he defines love as an action – a willful choice to extend ourselves for our spiritual growth and the spiritual growth of another. That’s an interesting definition, isn’t it?

It makes me think that in our lives, we have a choice about how to expand. As we’ve been saying over the course of weeks while we’ve studied the Sermon on the Mount, we’re often caught between two ways of living – Kingdom living and Gehenna Living (Gehenna being the ancient burning garbage heap that Jesus mentions earlier in the Sermon).

A Gehenna-type expansion of ourselves might look like this: We become full of hot air. We don’t look inward to live the ‘examined life.’ We don’t grow. Instead, we become full of things that can easily be deflated: Money. An abundance of money. Possessions. Prestige. Flattering praise. Reputation. Success. We let an image of ourselves grow. We expand. We inflate. We do all we can to lie to ourselves, to tell ourselves that this untouchable image is who we really are, that this is who we were made to be. But as all these things can be gained, they can also be taken away, and our balloon-like expansion of ourselves pops in a fleeting moment, and we’re reduced down to a person who has forgotten to truly grow. We often find ourselves in this boat, and honestly, thank God that our false images of ourselves do pop from time to time, because that pop is an entry point true growth, true expansion.

What might Kingdom expansion of ourselves look like? It’s almost hard to come up with an image for this, because when we think of expanding ourselves, we almost always associate it with pride – perhaps because we fall into it so often. But maybe there’s another way. Again, I will turn to M. Scott Peck and The Road Less Traveled. When we know ourselves and extend our truest selves toward others in love for the purpose of spiritual growth, we nurture others toward growth, and as a result, we grow ourselves. In acts of love, it’s as if we are gifted to internalize others – internalize their personalities, their voices, their gifts, what we learn from them. We don’t gobble them up. We don’t consume them. But we make room for them in our lives. We invite them in. We love them. We extend ourselves for their benefit. And in the process as we extend, we stretch. We learn from them, we internalize them. And though we are one individual, inside, we are somehow we’re a community of loving influences. This is Kingdom growth – Kingdom expansion of ourselves. A good, healthy, inward expansion of outward community that comes inward into our lives.

My self-awareness grows as I allow others into my life. I learn more about me by living in community. There are certain people I’ve internalized so deeply, that they really are a part of me. I’ll give you an example. Growing up in Southern Indiana, I was given a gift so beautiful that it is a part of me every day. That gift was St. John United Presbyterian Church in little New Albany, Indiana. In that community, I discovered what family truly means. All of the sudden, I was the collective daughter of a congregation, and I have never been the same since I experienced their love. It stretched me. It made me expand.

This little congregation really raised me. Chief among them was the pastor of that church, David Roth, who parented me, who fathered me. Many of you know that he died in January after a long battle with prostate cancer.

I am telling you, for years and years as he pastored that church and then later retired, David Roth lived to find teaching moments for me. He really did! He was my teacher. He loved me. He fought for me. He adopted me to himself. Now, like any parent, he drove me crazy from time to time, but always knew then, and I know now, that loving me was one of the chief joys of his life. And as a result, I know his voice deep within himself. I have internalized his life within me. You could say that David Roth and Renee Roederer extended themselves toward each other for the purpose of spiritual growth. And his life is now a part of mine – deeply and richly in a way that not even death can divide. And I could say this about others in my life too, others who dwell within me. I could say this about you. You are gifts that dwell within me. All of these people in my life interact within me, and they continue to influence others in and through my life. I often fall short, but when I’m at my best, I'm passing their love onto others.

And so it is with you too. You have a community within. You have the opportunity every day to live an examined life – to know yourselves, to extend yourselves, and to invite more in.

Self awareness, what a gift! Self-awareness that becomes ‘peopled’ in and through the lives of others who flow through your experience – perhaps that’s one of the most beautiful gifts we can receive.

And so, let’s bring that opportunity back to our scripture passage from tonight. Do you know yourselves? Who lives within you? How might you examine yourselves? What are the telephone poles in your lives that you need to remove? Will you let anyone help you with them? Who will you let in?

“Don’t throw your pearls to the pigs,” Jesus says. Don’t take what’s sacred to you and casually toss it aside anywhere. Do you know yourselves? Do you know what’s sacred to you? – Who is sacred to you? Will you let others help you find out?

“Ask, and it will be given to you.” Do you know yourselves? Do you know your deepest questions? “Search, and you will find.” Do you know yourselves? Do you know what you’re looking for? “Knock, and the door will be opened to you.” Do you know yourselves? Do you know Who waits on the other side of that door? Do you know the One who Created You in Love so that you might enter? Do you know Whose you are?

These are good questions. And thank God we are given the opportunity to know ourselves in community, to know ourselves together. There’s nothing absurd or ironic about that. We were made for this. So what are you waiting for? May God open our eyes that we may truly see, truly examine, and truly live. Amen.

-Renee Roederer, Campus Minister

Sermon: Outward? Inward? Upward.

Matthew 6:1-18

All right, Jesus. You got us again. . . As we’ve been studying the Sermon on the Mount this semester, we’ve been convicted again and again by what Jesus has to say to his disciples. Some of Jesus’ most difficult teachings are found in three simple chapters of the Gospel of Matthew – chapters 5-7. But we should also say that these chapters are hardly simple! We’ve discovered that for ourselves. And thank God they aren’t simple. They invite us to plunge into our lives differently – to plunge fully. And living fully is hardly simple. Living fully means that we are called to live upward toward God – knowing the One who has lovingly created us – and to live outward toward others– knowing our neighbors as the ones we were truly created to love.

So in this moment – this holy, sacred moment – let’s really plunge in.
Let’s really think in and through this text:

So yes . . Jesus has got us again. . . Jesus is often critiquing the religious people of his day, and if for a second, we find ourselves saying, “That’s right! You take that, Scribes and Pharisees!” we might just want to take a step back for a second. Have you ever noticed that when you point your finger at someone in accusation, you’re pointing three back and yourself? Tonight, we may need to look at those fingers pointing at us. After all, we’re some of the religious people of today, aren’t we? We fall under this scripture.

I’ll tell you something you already know. Sometimes, religious people are the worst! Have you ever known a religious person with a big ego? Have you ever fallen into that kind of thinking yourselves? Wow. Watch out. Sometimes religious people can have heads bigger than this room.

In a couple of different sermons, I’ve heard Ted Wardlaw tell a particular story about a real life colleague he knew in Atlanta, where he was a pastor for many years. Several times a year, the Presbytery of Greater Atlanta would meet – all the churches from the area would send elders and pastors as commissioners to talk about business and issues they needed to discuss. One particular pastor would always show up. His ego was bigger than the room. He was always working the crowd, going from one person to another, greeting each person with a pristine, crystalline smile. You know, kind of like Gilderoy Lockhart from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. He was always talking about himself – how he had done this thing, how he had done that thing. Who knows? In addition to his spectacular Christian ministry, he had probably defeated some boggarts and Cornish pixies and even won Witches Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile-Award! This pastor had done it all, it seemed. Or at least, he wanted everyone to know that. And at one of these Presbytery meetings, while this pastor was shaking hands and working the room, another colleague just leaned over and whispered something into Ted’s ear: “There but for the grace of God. . .goes God.” In his ministry, this man seemed to puff up his chest and try to be worshipped rather than pointing to the God who is worthy of all our worship.

Let’s contrast that with another image. I think it’s safe to say that Karl Barth was arguably the most influential Christian theologian of the 20th century. Maybe you’ve heard his name before. Or maybe not. But again, I bet it’s safe to say that you’ve all been influenced by his theological voice whether you’re aware of it or not. In the academy, in the pulpit, in the pews, the writings of Karl Barth have been influential. This German theologian wrote an average of eight publishable pages per day throughout his decades-long career. Think about that! That’s like writing 2,920 publishable pages a year! He’s best known for writing The Church Dogmatics, a 13 volume set of writings on Christian theology. They’re truly some of the most significant writings in Christian history. This man wrote a lot! This man accomplished a lot!

And so I find it humbling that in his study – which was a small and meager study, by the way – he had a portrait of John the Baptist in a prominent place. You may remember that in the Gospel of John, John the Baptist points to Jesus, identifying him as the Lamb of God, and John says this about of his own ministry: “He must increase, but I must decrease.” Karl Barth kept this portrait in his office for a reason. In the picture, John the Baptist is pointing a long finger away from himself toward Jesus. Barth was writing all these important works – page after page after page - but he wanted those works to point to the one they were giving witness toward. He wanted them to point to Jesus Christ rather than to ultimately point to Karl Barth himself. And he kept that portrait to remind him why he was doing all of that writing. He was giving witness to the One who gave him these gifts to write such meaningful words.

And so, there’s an incredible contrast between religious people who live like Gilderoy Lockhart and religious people who live like John the Baptist, pointing to the one who has gifted us for a life of abundant fullness and a ministry of faithful vitality.

So where do we find ourselves in this text from the Sermon on the Mount? Well, we probably find ourselves in the “inbetweens,” just like we have in the other parts of the sermon: We’re caught between Gehenna and the Kingdom. We’re caught between loving our neighbors and our enemies and wishing evil for them. We’re caught between the witness of Gilderoy Lockhart and the witness of John the Baptist. We’re often divided, but thank God, God’s love for us is not divided. God’s love is always calling us to fullness, to transformation. So let’s go down that road tonight.

This text seems to contrast the inward life and the outward life, doesn’t it? Jesus talks about those in his day who were outwardly giving alms. Maybe you remember the story of a widow who gave her meager two coins as alms in the temple, while others were giving their alms in an abundant, showy way. San preached on that text this morning. Did you know that in the temple treasury, there were metal receptacles – kind of shaped like trumpets - where people could deposit their alms? Those who were rich would bring their coins and fling them into the trumpet-like receptacles, making all kinds of noise and attention for themselves. Perhaps that’s what Jesus means when he says, “Do not sound a trumpet before you.” Can you imagine the contrast between the trumpet sound of wealth that is flung for sport and self-proclamation verses the simple tinkle, tinkle of two copper coins? One draws attention to the self as the chief object of worship. “Hey! Look at me!” The other points toward God as the true Subject of worship – the one who has created us, who has initiated this life, and the One is whose life we are found, right down to every tinkle, tinkle – every second, every need, every gift of our lives.

So we’re warned about turning ourselves outward, inviting the world to bow down and worship us. Jesus says to us, “But when you give alms, don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.” We’re called to keep our pride in check, and that’s never easy! Dietrich Bohoeffer, another influential 20th century theologian, speaks about this passage in an interesting way. He says that as we follow Jesus, we’re called to look to him without looking to our own virtue. He compares discipleship to the eye itself. The eye is always looking forward, and yet the eye never sees itself. That’s a good analogy. Right now, I can see this entire room, and I’m free to look in all the nooks and crannies to see what is present here. But the one thing I can’t see is my own eye. Perhaps our lives should be just like that. We’re called to look to Jesus and follow, really living in this world, following him into all the nooks and crannies where he sends us, but if we use those nooks and crannies to seek worship for ourselves, we’ve missed the point of the Christian life. And we all do it so often!

And Jesus says that we’ll have our reward. We’ll have what we’ve sought after. We’ll have all the attention we want. But we’ll miss out on something. We’ll miss out on the greater gift that God has given us – and that gift is God! – we won’t nullify God’s love or God’s presence in our lives. We couldn’t undo if we tried, but perhaps we will become blind to seeing and perceiving God’s presence in our midst.

So don’t turn outward for your own self-aggrandizement. It seems that Jesus might be calling us inward, doesn’t it? Don’t be like the hypocrites who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners so that they might be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”

Inward. I think there’s a lesson for us here. Have you ever prayed out loud, either anxious about what others are thinking of your words – or overly aware of those words, purposefully trying to impress others with what you have to say? I’m sure we’ve found ourselves on both ends of that spectrum. I know I have. When we do that, we often miss out. We turn outward and we forget who we are praying to! When we pray for the purpose of impressing others – or for being religious for the purpose of impressing others - we might receive the reward of their praise, what we’ve been hoping for, but we will have missed the true reward of prayer. “And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” Reward us with what? God’s very presence! Perhaps, that’s why Jesus calls us inward, to go to our most private place and to experience God’s real and vibrant presence. Again, when we turn the attention solely to ourselves, when we seek worship for ourselves, we miss the true gift of worshiping the One who has invited us into God’s very own life. That is where we are called. That is where we will truly live.

Outward and Inward. It’s easy to pit these two against one another. But some questions should follow: “Wait a minute. Aren’t we supposed to live outwardly? Aren’t we supposed to care about others?” “And if we just live inwardly, won’t we be putting our heads into the sand, living for a God-experience that turns its back on the world?” “And wait. If I’m supposed to be like an eye and never see myself, won’t I just lose myself?” Those are good questions.

We can’t exclude the outward from the inward, can we? Perhaps the question is how we go outward and how we go inward. . .How do we do that? Perhaps we shouldn’t pit the outward from the inward at all. Perhaps instead, we should seek the upward. Let’s turn our attention there. Who is God? And what does that mean for our questions?

It certainly means this: God comes to us – God loves us and seeks us – and God invites us into the divine life – God’s very life! We aren’t God, so there is no reason for our self-aggrandizement. But we are invited into the divine life – into God’s own presence, God’s own personhood. And if God is One and yet a community of three persons – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and if we are invited upward that life, we are going to live in community too. And that means that we will live outward, loving our brothers and our sisters, loving our neighbors and even our enemies. It means that we will live inward, living a love of self that is held secure in the peace and love of God – rather than the insecurity that needs to seek self-worship. When we stop looking out ourselves and look upward, we don’t lose ourselves. We gain ourselves. A life turned upward includes the outward and the inward. It includes us!

As we continue in this Sermon on the Mount –
As we continue in our lives in the upcoming weeks –
Let us turn our gaze upward –
That we may be found-
That we may be whole-
That we may serve –
That we may truly live.
Amen.

-Renee Roederer, Campus Minister

Sermon: The End Justifies the Means

Matthew 5:38-48

What a rich text. . . What a challenging text. . . Isn’t it a difficult one? There’s so much to think about here. . . Turn the other cheek. . .Give the cloak as well. . .Go the second mile. . . Love your enemies. These are some of Jesus’ most challenging teachings. But like the other parts of the Sermon on the Mount that we’ve studied this semester, this passage is life-giving too. And it’s life-transforming as well.

You know, this passage has had a big impact historically. This text has been foundational for a lot of Christian pacifist movements throughout the centuries. And certain Christian communities have been created out of these pacifist movements – movements that have taught that violence should never be used no matter the cost.

The Anabaptists were one group who operated this way. The Anabaptists lived during the time of the Reformation when cities, towns, and villages in Europe were being torn apart in conflict – not only verbal conflict or theological conflict, but in the physical conflict of religious war. These conflicts were happening as individuals and government leaders and larger communities were breaking away from some of the teachings and practices of the Roman Church. The Anabaptists were persecuted for their beliefs and practices and often killed for them. They believed that they should not resist the persecution that came their way – at least, not with physical violence in return. From the Anabaptists, we get the modern Hutterites, the Mennonites, and the Amish – all pacifist groups that live in various places in the world today.

We also have the Quakers, another Pacifist group. Maybe when you hear that name, the first thing that comes to your mind is the Quaker Oats guy. You know what? I found a picture of William Penn today, the Quaker who founded Pennsylvania after he was pushed out his home because of religious persecution. And you know what? William Penn really does look like the Quaker Oats guy! (At least in this picture).

But Quakers are known for much, much more than oatmeal! The official name of the Quakers today is the Society of Friends, and they’re strongly against using any force – personal violence or violence through war. And they’re a witness to all of us, reminding us that Christians are called to peace.

And then, we’re a bit more familiar with some of the non-violent movements that have happened in the last forty years. Not too long before we were born, the Civil Rights movement was pushing forward but not without resistance from others. It was meeting all kinds of violence and hatred. Many of the Civil Rights advocates were actually using that violence and hatred to advance the cause for freedom and equality. Black men and women – many of them very young – were doing sit-ins, protesting racial segregation and Jim Crow laws in the South by refusing to give up their seats in public restaurants that only served whites. They were beaten, spit upon, mocked, and dehumanized. But they didn’t return the violence. And in their non-violent resistance, they put the violence and hatred of others on public television sets. Many of these scenes – these real life brutalities – were responsible for a national conversation on race, and they led to legislation like the Civil Rights Act of 1964. More than 40 years later, we still have a long way to go when it comes to the issue of racism in America, but without these young people – many of them, the same age as you – we certainly wouldn’t be where we are today.

All of these groups have looked to Jesus’ teachings from our passage tonight, and their interpretations have reminded us that we are called to peace – to love our neighbor, and yes, to love our enemy even when it isn’t convenient, perhaps, when it’s incredibly inconvenient.

And so I wonder, what other interpretations of this text have impacted others? What have other people had to say? And what might we say tonight – not just in the words that I’m speaking right now, but in the ways we choose to live because we’ve heard Jesus speak to us this evening?

I wish I could say that Christian interpretation of this passage has always been goodness and light, but there have also been some dangerous interpretations of this text throughout history. I want you to imagine this scenario: You’re a pastor, and a woman walks into your office. She’s in her forties, and you’ve known her for about two months. She and her husband and their three kids are relatively new to the church that you serve, and you’ve really enjoyed getting to know them. In fact, you felt that you really hit it off with them. And so, maybe it’s no surprise that this woman feels she can trust you. She can come to you when things get difficult. But there is a surprise: When she comes in your office on a normal, run-of-the-mill afternoon, she’s bruised all over. You’re startled. And when you sit down, you learn something you would have never expected. Her husband beats her. Regularly. But as she tells you, this time was worse than it ever has been. She wants to know what you think. What should she do? Retaliate? Leave him? Well. . . she has the answer. She seems to want to impress you with her theological convictions. Or maybe. . she might be talking like this to convince herself that her convictions really are true – that they must be followed. Or maybe she’s testing you out to see what you have to say. After all, you’re a pastor and you’re supposed have authority on Jesus’ teachings, right?

She goes on to tell you what she plans to do. She tells you what other religious people have told her during her twenty years of marriage. “I made a commitment to my husband,” she says. “More importantly, I made a commitment to God. I know he shouldn’t hit me like this. But my job is to turn the other cheek. That’s what Jesus teaches me. My job is to continue loving him, and if loving him means that I have to take it, I will. But I do pray that he’ll stop this. Will you pray for that too?”

She goes on to tell you that her pastors and many of her Christian friends have sent her right back into this situation, quoting Jesus all along the way.

Difficult, isn’t it? But I think we all have a gut reaction that serves us well. This woman should not be abused, and we shouldn’t send her back in to take even more, additionally slapping some gospel label on it. So what is Jesus saying here? Just grin and bear it? Put on a smile and offer your other cheek for the hitting? Be a doormat?

I suppose if we just stayed on the surface level here, it might sound like Jesus is encouraging us to be doormats when we encounter all kinds of wrongs and persecution and abuse. “Just take it!” But if we dig deeper, we’ll be strengthened with deeper meaning as well.

Let’s think about these situations for a moment. . . turning the other cheek. . . giving the cloak as well. . . walking the second mile. They might sound ‘doormat’-like on the surface, but they don’t have to be that way at all! In fact, if you think a bit more deeply, they’re all pretty defiant! When an enemy strikes your cheek and you turn the other one calmly without hitting back, in a way, you are saying, “What can you do to me, really? You may think you’re powerful – that you can oppress me – but if I choose to respond to you rather than react to you in violence (there is a difference by the way) I can show you that you can’t destroy me. You’re no oppressor if I refuse to be oppressed!” Perhaps surprisingly, for the woman we’ve spoken about then, turning the other cheek would mean that she stops taking the abuse – that she refuses to be oppressed, removing herself and her children from that situation. And we need to do all we can to support her.

Or if someone sues you for your coat in an attempt to have something from you, and then a few days later, you wrap up your cloak and send it the mail as a gift, there’s something defiant about that. In a way, you’re saying, “What can you do to me really? You can’t oppress me! Here’s my cloak. It’s on me, pal! You haven’t taken a thing, have you?”

Or if someone forces you to walk one mile and then you respond by going two miles, again, you are saying, “Look! Watch me! You may try to oppress me, but you can’t. If I go two miles, you haven’t forced me to do a thing, have you?”

These teachings aren’t really ‘doormat’ at all. All of them call us to walk the higher road – to respond to our enemies in a way that highlights grace and love rather than revenge – love for the enemy and love for ourselves, love that respects our worth and theirs. Jesus isn’t teaching us to just sit around and take it. No, not at all! He is telling us to defy it! To resist it! But how do we do that? We overcome it with love!

And also, with little spunk. Let’s look at Jesus’ own context to see what he might be saying in this sermon. Think about this: If you were to strike someone on the right cheek, how would you do that exactly? Go ahead. Put out your hand like you’re going to slap someone. (Don’t really do it!) Unless you’re left handed – unless you’re San Williams, for instance – you would have to back-hand someone to hit the person on the right side of the face. Now in Jesus’ day, if a person backhanded you, he wasn’t only being violent. He was conveying that to you that you weren’t an equal. So when Jesus tells us to turn the other cheek, he’s not only teaching us to be non-violent in love (though that is true). He’s also teaching us to say, “Hey, wait a minute! I won’t stand for that. I am not going to be oppressed by you. I am your equal. And as your equal, I will walk the high road in all of this. I will refuse to be backhanded.”

And then, there’s this: In Jesus’ day, people wore a coat and a cloak – basically an undergarment and an over-garment. If someone were to sue you for that undergarment, and then you were to give them your cloak – your over-garment as well – you’d basically be standing there naked! Weird, right? And in Jesus’ day and culture, nakedness wasn’t ultimately shameful to the one who unclothed – it was profoundly shameful for the one who had to see it. And so again, Jesus is telling us to resist evil with love and with a little spunk. Now I’m not telling any of you to take a stand by getting naked! But I am trying to show you that if someone shames you, Jesus teaches us to lovely resist that shame with love and who knows? Maybe even with a sense of humor.

And then, there’s this too: In Jesus’ context, the Jewish people were living under the occupation of Rome. There was a custom – an unfortunate one – that a Roman soldier could coerce any person to carry his pack for mile no matter how inconvenient or oppressive it may have been. Can you imagine walking to one of your classes and having some soldier stop you to carry his stuff for a mile? Jesus is telling his disciples to walk the high road of love. If a soldier forces you to go one mile, go two. That way you teach yourself and the soldier that you can’t be oppressed. Don’t retaliate in violence. And don’t just sit around and take it either. Show kindness to that solider, that enemy. Show kindness to yourself. Value your humanity so much that you won’t allow yourself to be oppressed. Value the humanity of your enemy so much that he or she may be liberated from being an oppressor. Because when you are oppressed or abused, your true humanity is being maligned. And you know what? So is the enemy’s humanity. He wasn’t created to oppress. She wasn’t created to abuse.

Aren’t these teachings incredibly profound? In studying them this week, I feel that I’ve learned so much. In fact, I discovered a little detail that really energized me. In the translation we read tonight, verse 39 says, “But I say to you, do not resist an evildoer.” Wow. On the surface, that sounds pretty doormat to me. But then I fell upon something really interesting in the Greek text.

Okay, quick grammar lesson: Have any of you studied Latin or German? Both of those languages have cases. That means that words have certain endings to tell you what grammatical role they are playing in the sentence. Greek has cases too. And when a word is a direct object, it is in the accusative case. The word has a certain ending on it to tell you that it’s the direct object. And so, our sentence here is: Do not resist an evildoer – or it could even be, Do not resist evil. Again, pretty doormat sounding, right? In that sentence, ‘evil’ is the direct object. Do not resist – what? Evil. So we should find the word ‘evil’ in the accusative case with a direct-object type ending. Well, guess what? We don’t. ‘Evil’ is the direct object, but it has a dative ending! And if that’s a foreign word to you – or if all of this sounds like grammar gobbily-gook, that’s okay. But it’s incredibly significant as we think about the passage. In Greek, there is a thing called ‘A Dative of Means.’ When a direct object is in the dative, it tells you the means by which something is done. So actually, what this text may be saying is this: Do not resist with evil – or – Do not resist by evil. Well, that really changes things, doesn’t it?

So Jesus isn’t telling us to be doormats when it comes to evil! Jesus is telling us that we should resist it! That we should oppose it! That we should withstand it! But here’s the thing: We do it with love. And if the end is love – if the goal is love – in the Christian faith, as it is, then the end ought to justify the means by which we act. If the goal is love, we are called to fight evil, persecution, and abuse with love – love of self, love of neighbor, and yes, love of enemy. The end justifies the means. Love is the end. Love is the means.

How will you practice that this week?

-Renée Roederer, Campus Minister