From family and friends to coworkers and classmates, from long-term commitments and contracts to momentary exchanges, relationships are the building blocks of our lives. They are some of the first things that we learn, and are something we spend a lifetime trying to figure out. How well or not we navigate them can impact everything from our psychological well-being and happiness to our success in both social and business worlds.
For many of us, the core of these relationships is marked by the “Golden Rule,” which as we heard a few moments ago, is nestled in the gospel itself: “do to others as you would have them do to you” (Luke 6:31). It’s a reasonable mantra to assume of course, calling us to respect and care for each other. We nod along with these phrases because they appeal to our most basic desire to have things go well for us so that we ourselves might prosper, and fall into our understanding of living in a quid pro quo world. When we invest and give, whether physically or emotionally, we expect something in return. It’s tremendously awkward, isn’t it, when someone brings you a gift say for Christmas or Valentine’s Day and you have nothing for them. Favors are even expected to be returned. This also applies to the negative. When bad things happen, retribution is the expectation. We want to seek revenger or at least “get even.” Much of our living is transactional, even in our relationships.
Jesus takes a look at the ways we relate to each other in his “Sermon on the Plain,” which we continued reading this morning. In it, he presents a vision for what it looks like to live in the kingdom of God. And, as we learned last week, life in God’s reign turns things upside down with radical reversals to our expected norms. Instead of repaying evil with evil, Jesus calls us to choose another path that is diametrically opposed to some of our instincts.Commentator Charles Bugg notes that:
The admonition of Luke to love even our enemies is not just a good idea where we try our best to make it happen. It is not a call to grit our teeth and make a resolution to be nicer even to those who are not nice to us. Rather, the call of Luke is to live in a way contrary to our human nature, a way that is possible only as we “live out” of a new power born from above[i].
What does this look like? Consider the image on the cover of our bulletin, created by Ukrainian sculptor Alexandr Milov for the Burning Man Festival in the Nevada desert in 2015. The sculpture reflects the realities that life often puts us in conflict with each other, perhaps even back-to-back, facing in opposite directions. And yet, we each seem to have something inside of us that longs to be connected to each other, which the artist equated to an inner child or innocence. As darkness falls, the sculpture shifted slightly, and the smaller figures began to shine and glow. The artist noted that:
this shining is a symbol of purity and sincerity that brings people together and gives a chance of making up when the dark time arrives[ii].
Put alongside our text from Luke, I wonder if this sculpture, appropriately titled “love” might also be a reflection of the kind of life Jesus was calling his disciples, and us, to live. Perhaps that something inside of us is the Holy Spirit, God’s nudging us into the kind of relationships that Jesus described.
To live in this way is to proclaim that the inbreaking of God into human history through Jesus Christ makes a difference. It proclaims that the reign of God, the coming of God’s kingdom as described by Jesus, is not just a promise for the future, but is something that can be realized, at least in part, even now in our own reality. And this new reality makes all the difference in the way we respond to other people. Loving and praying for our enemies, and going the extra mile even in the face of adversity, means living in hope – and acting toward the possibility – that even the hardest parts of our lives can be transformed by the goodness of God’s grace in this world. Jesus’ sermon invites us into a life where we let go of the things that trap us: judgment and condemnation, and instead embrace forgiveness and generosity as the markers of our relationships.
To see what this looks like, we might turn to the story of Joseph. Joseph, perhaps more than almost anyone else, has clear reasons to seek retribution and revenge against his brothers. Do you remember the beginning of the story? He is a son of Jesse, who has interpreted dreams and shared these visions with his father and brothers. He is the favored son, given a beautiful coat of many colors. And understandably so, his brothers are jealous. It’s also worth pointing out that Joseph is probably a bit bratty and self-absorbed. He might have even lorded that special coat and “favorite child” status over his siblings, as siblings tend to do. In response, his brothers taken him to the outskirts of town to do him harm, then in an act of “mercy,” leave him in a dried up well for dead. As they wait, a caravan comes along and they decide to make a profit and sell him into slavery in Egypt. His story spans more than a dozen chapters in Genesis, a mixture of winning favor with the king and poor decisions that land him in jail, but wind up with him in the royal court in a position instrumental for the very survival of the people in the midst of famine. It is here where his brothers return, pleading for their very right to existence. Oh how the tables have turned.
It would make sense if Joseph treated his brothers the way that he had been treated. Surely he had not forgotten. We would have understood if he had looked at them and said “I am Joseph, your brother. Remember me? Now you’re going to get what is coming to you.” But instead, we get a radical reversal. Joseph’s confrontational moment reveals his true identity but then, rather than focus on revenge, he offers forgiveness, grounded in an understanding of God’s grace and presence in his own life. He seeks reconciliation in this moment, which will lead to the sharing of a feast of peace with his family. It is a radical act made possible by the overwhelming grace of God.
This morning, we will celebrate another radical act marked by God’s grace as we celebrate the sacrament of baptism. Baptism reminds us that the love and mercy that comes from God, the promise of covenant and forgiveness and relationship, comes not because of anything we have done, can do, or will do, but because of the grace of God through Jesus Christ. This is why we can be so bold as to make the claim of it for infants, because God’s grace comes to us even before we can possibly do anything to deserve it. Baptism reminds us that the work of reconciliation has already been done through Christ, who welcomes us into a new way of living, marked not by transactions, but by grace.
That, I think, is the kind of living in God’s reign that Jesus had in mind with this sermon on the plain; a life marked by an awareness of God’s presence and God’s grace in a way that changes everything about how we view the world, especially our relationship with others. May we live together in aspiration of the way Jesus taught us, for when we do, we get a glimpse at what it looks like to be in the kingdom of God. May it be so. Amen.
~sermon by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, Heritage Presbyterian Church, February 24, 2019
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[i] Charles Bugg, “Pastoral Perspective: Luke 6:27-38,” Feasting on the Word, Year C Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).
[ii] https://aplus.com/a/alexandr-milov-love-burning-man-2015-sculpture?no_monetization=true
