Live Generously

 

Isaiah 11:1-10

Matthew 5: 38-48 (The Message)

For September and October we have prayerfully launched a sermon series called Hot Topics.  You might be wondering why we would want to stir things up or why we would talk about such difficult subjects in church and the answer is simply that we are doing this because this is the church God is calling us to be.  God is accompanying us into a new way of being a church, which includes open, honest and real conversation, knowing that we assume the best of each other even when we don’t agree.  We are being accompanied by God into a new way of being church, which includes the chance to bring our whole, real selves forward in all that we do.  We are being accompanied by God into a new way of being church, which includes the hope that if we are honest and patient, if we listen for God’s voice in each other, there is nothing we cannot do.  The sermons are not the end of the conversation; rather they are an invitation to begin the conversation.  Please pray with me.

If you never left this building, you might not know that we are a nation at war.  Those of us who read the newspaper and watch the news are forced to remember on occasion that there is a war, but often it is only when we read the names of those who have given their lives: Army Spc. Ross E. Vogel III, Army Spc. Kevin J. Graham, Marine Lance Cpl. Jordan L. Chrobot, Marine Lance Cpl. John J. Malone, Army Sgt. Titus R. Reynolds, Army Sgt. Edward B. Smith and these are just a few of the 5,176 lives that have been lost.

But even if we know that it is happening, why is it that there is perhaps no better place to forget that we are a nation at war, than in church?  I suspect that for most of us, church is literally a sanctuary from the real and raw stuff of life.  We need sanctuary from the realities of bills, illnesses, family issues and economic realities that weigh heavily on our hearts.  We need sanctuary from the hard truths that people are homeless, children go hungry and that there is a war happening, where real people die. We need sanctuary simply because life is fraught with pain and this is one place where we can, even if just for a short time, seek some kind of refuge.  But I imagine that there are other reasons that we rarely speak of war in church.  Perhaps it is in part because we are not of the same mind about war in general or these particular wars.  I assume that we are divided about what our faith might call us to do or say and perhaps we need a safe place, where we can curl up and forget the suffering and struggle that comes with war of any kind.

But this summer when the body of Marine Corporal Nicholas G. Xiarhos was returned to Cape Cod, few of us could forget that we are a nation at war.  Xiarhos was just 21 when a roadside bomb in the Garmsir district of Afghanistan killed him.  A military honor guard carried his flag draped casket off of an airplane and across the tarmac before loading it into the hearse.  When the procession left the airport, it passed businesses, hotels and restaurants with flags lowered, yellow ribbons hanging and hundreds of people holding signs, with hands over their hearts.  The thought of a young man with so much in front of him gone was enough to make us remember that we are at war. 

Like many children with parents who served in the military, I was thinking about war from a young age.  In 1986 the movie Platoon was released and my dad, having served in the army in Vietnam, wanted us to watch it in order to know something about his experience.  Because I was just 8 years old, I could hardly take in what I saw, but I catching my first glimpse of the unimaginable suffering that comes with war.  The movie clearly struck a chord and won four Oscars, including Best Picture of the year.  Even though it is a product of Hollywood and filled with what one would expect when combat of any kind is dramatized for the big screen, the tag line of the movie is so succinct that it cuts right to the throbbing naked truth, it reads, “The first casualty of war is innocence.”  And I suspect that since most of our men and women who serve on the front lines are just teenagers, innocence cannot only be lost, but war can take the spirit of a soul along with it.

I know that it is difficult to even speak about war from the pulpit.  I know that for those of you who served in the military, even broaching the subject can be painful.  Some of us have family members; neighbors and friends who are serving faithfully and asking what our faith has to say about war can sometimes feel like we are questioning the dedication and commitment of those who serve.  But this is not my intention.  I know that as much as we might feel uncomfortable, our Christian faith has something particular to say on the matter, something different than we are likely to hear any place other than our community of faith. One of my colleagues once said that if what is said from the pulpit could just have easily appeared in the Boston Globe, then we are not doing our job.  And so, as with all of our hot topics, we are engaging the wisdom of our Christian tradition prayerfully alongside the real issues of our time.

So what is a Christian response to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan or war in general?  What is our call as disciples of Jesus Christ?  Some might say that our response depends upon the kind of war, or who is involved or whether there was a preemptive action requiring a response.  While others might say that none of this matters and that war is never okay.  In our scriptures, we are told that Jesus is called the Prince of Peace and yet Christians throughout history have led the Crusades, the Inquisition, the Salem Witch trials, the genocide of Native Americans, centuries of anti-Semitism leading to the Holocaust, slavery and the ongoing battle between Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland.  We have been led to war as a nation many times by political leaders who have told us that God is on our side.  So what is a Christian response to war? 

When the end of Jesus’ life was near and he knew that if he kept doing what he was doing, the iron fist of Rome would soon smash down upon him, he could have easily rallied the thousands who had been changed by his words, but he didn’t.  He could have asked them to take up arms and follow him, but he didn’t.  He could have entered Jerusalem on a horse with a sword, chariots ready for battle, but he didn’t.  Instead he entered Jerusalem on a donkey, adorned in his simple robes, just as he was.  He chose another way, which was to show the world that God’s response to evil; God’s response to those who choose to violate the commandments is not to violate them in return, but to embark on a journey that is something else entirely.  Jesus said, “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… 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…” Jesus entered Jerusalem, not with a sword, but in a way that surprised even the Empire that would later put him up on a cross for all to see.

We might be quick to say that we are not Jesus, and that such a response to the presence of evil in the world is unrealistic.  It is impossible to do as he asks when it comes to matters of war.  To be sure, Christians throughout time have discounted Jesus’ words on this subject, saying that it is simply not possible in a world like ours.  And yet we have evidence that when Christianity was born and for nearly three hundred years after Jesus’ death, the early church was committed to his call to turn the other cheek.  Hear these words from one of our early church fathers, Justin the Martyr, who wrote in 160 CE:

“We ourselves were well conversant with war, murder, and everything evil, but all of us throughout the whole wide earth have traded in our weapons of war. We have exchanged our swords for ploughshares, our spears for farm tools. Now we cultivate the fear of God, justice, kindness to men, faith, and the expectation of the future given to us by the Father himself through the Crucified One.” (Dialogue with Trypho 110.3.4)

And from Athenagoras who lived in the years 133-190 CE, "What, then, are these teachings in which we are reared? ‘I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. . . Who [of the pagan philosophers] have so purified their own hearts as to love their enemies instead of hating them; instead of upbraiding those who first insult them (which is certainly more usual), to bless them; and to pray for those who plot against them?    . . .With us, on the contrary, you will find unlettered people, tradesmen and old women, who, though unable to express in words the advantages of our teaching, demonstrate by acts the value of their principles. For they do not rehearse speeches, but evidence good deeds. When struck, they do not strike back; when robbed, they do not sue; to those who ask, they give, and they love their neighbors as themselves . . . We . . . cannot endure to see a man being put to death even justly." (Legatio 11, 34-35 (Athens, 175))

But, while many of us struggle with Jesus’ words, most all of us want peace.  We want peace and the life to which God calls us; we want to know that our children are safe and that we can travel without fear.  We want peace for sure, but Jesus’ life tells us that peace comes with a cost.  Peace requires us to do that which, for most of us, can feel not just difficult, but impossible.  Peace requires us to let go of our need for revenge.  Peace requires us to leave behind our need to prove that we are right.  Peace requires us to give our allegiance first to God, not to our families or ourselves or our nation, but to God.  Perhaps we human beings are just as Thomas Kempis observed, "We desire peace, but not the things that make for peace."

So what is a Christian response to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan or war of any kind?  What is our call as disciples of Jesus Christ?  As with each part of our life as Christians the answer to this question is for each of us to decide.  But we do know that those who sought to follow Jesus before us believed that Christian churches do not exist exclusively for our comfort as members.  From the earliest times, Christian churches existed to stand with the poor, to feed the hungry, to visit those in prison and to care for the widows and orphans, while challenging the authority of those in power who are not using their power to do these things.”   Christian churches historically have called disciples to a life that is difficult, but grounded in Christ.

Many have said that even asking if there is an alternative to war is naïve- that suggesting non-violence as another way is a pie in the sky idea, but few nations throughout history have even tried.  While the United States is often called a Christian nation, we have not grounded our response to evil in the world in Jesus’ words.  Yet we still stay that a non-violent response is naïve.  “When we spend over a trillion dollars, which is what we have already spent on these wars, in attempting to bring about change through non-violent means, perhaps we can say that non-violent approaches are naïve.  When we have deployed hundreds of thousands of our citizens who are willing to do anything, including sacrifice their very lives, to resolve conflict in a non-violent matter to no avail, then perhaps we can say that such an approach is naïve.”

So even as we seek refuge from the pain in the world, even as we come to this place for sanctuary from suffering and violence and war, let us not forget what is unfolding in lands far beyond our own.  Let us not forget that even if Jesus’ words seem unrealistic and impossible, they led him to the ultimate act on the cross, proving to us that there is another way, there is another way to live in the world, a way that showed us that love and that generosity of spirit can conquer and triumph even over death.  Amen.

Barbara Brown Taylor National Catholic Reporter, July 28, 2006 Inside the churches, the war seems far away

The War and the Next War preached at Wellesley Village Church on September 16th, 2007 by Martin Copenhaver.