Following Directions

(Based on Micah 6 and Matthew 5)



I shall never forget Diane’s earnest remark about her church and its beliefs. "Honestly", she said, "we don’t believe we’re better than anyone else, we’re just afraid of not getting the gospel right. We have to be so very strict, you see. What if we got it wrong? We’d spend all eternity in hell!"



Bless poor frightened Diane. She has company, doesn’t she? Tell us what to do and we’ll do it. How unfortunate, how sad. Didn’t we hear the prophet Micah?



He has told you, O man, what is good,

And what the LORD requires of you:

Only to do justice

And to love goodness,

And to walk modestly with your God.



The Christian life is quite simple, really. The rules, if you wish to call them that, are clear, succinct, and applicable for everyone in every walk of life. Be just, love goodness - or be kind, and be modest or humble. The hard part is discovering how to apply these very basic principles.



Take justice. Humanity has long recognized this is an appropriate rule. What’s right for A should be equally right for B. Anyone can grasp that concept. Children on the playground learn it quickly. “That’s not fair!” an anguished voice cries. We all have seen it, we’ve all felt it. Recognizing the universality of that truth, our Declaration of Independence states all men are created equal. Only we don’t act it. We don’t even believe it. By the time the United States Constitution was adopted, such equality applied only to white men, and as for voting, not only were slaves not counted, neither were women. Our physically challenged folk have long recognized the world belongs to the able-bodied. Left-handed folk know society designed our furniture and implements with right-handed people in mind.



All these examples are issues that emerge from that basic principle, be just. The principle is good. The prophet speaks well. The problem is figuring out how to act justly.



Love goodness - or be kind and merciful. Again, the words say easy. We have many sayings that help us achieve this goal. “Be nice” we say to children, “good little children share with others.” Their puzzled looks remind us that being nice is a weird concept that has nothing to do with their desire to have the whole ice cream cone rather than share a bite with another child. Why should I let someone have what is mine when I want to keep it for myself? Any fool can see that. You say a good man shares what he has. Then sociologists and economists and anthropologists and psychologists gather around and tell us it may not be such a good idea giving all these goods to others. They need to learn how to take care of themselves, don’t they? They even point to Darwin who taught us there’s another principle here called “The survival of the fittest”. If you can’t make it on your own, maybe you’re not supposed to.



So Micah adds one more rule - walk meekly or humbly or modestly with God. Ah, now that is where we stop preaching and start meddling. How do you do that? Do you testify every where you go, telling people about the mercy and love of God? That would be nice. Of course, there are people like Ralph who takes great pride in knowing there is no God, and for him such unasked for advice is merely a nuisance. Or there’s Sally who cringes when told God is her loving father, for she had such a loving father - one who entered her bed nightly and took away her personhood, her dignity, her innocence and any chance of her ever being able to trust and respect herself or any man again. So our good news may not always be enough. Then let us live out our good news with a positive attitude. Let a smile be your umbrella. Laugh and the world laughs with you. Jesus wants me for a sunbeam to shine for him each day. You can catch more flies with sugar than with vinegar. And then I remember Peggy of the sweet smile who told biting lies with those cheerful lips inflicting hurt wherever she went. She showed God, all right, a god of bitterness and hypocrisy.



What can our prophet tell us now? It’s not in the script, but it’s there between the lines: being human is a full time job and requires a fearful honesty that will keep us searching our souls, our motivations, our true impulses and needs for that which can best reflect the image of God placed in us by our creator. When I walk with God, I see the difference between my creature imperfection and the ideal that God represents. When I walk with God, I am better able to walk with my neighbor in true humility and kindness because I walk with God in you. (I may just discover that God is walking in you with me, and that you are God’s blessing for me when I am hurting!) When I walk with God, I hope I learn that you and I are of the same fabric, that humanity means I can feel and understand what you are like, what you need, what you fear, what you dream, and I can be attentive to another rule that sums up all Micah has said: Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.



Our passage from Matthew carries on the proclamation of Micah. But instead of giving us rules to follow, it pronounces blessings that come from God on those who strive to live by these principles. These are current, of this moment, present-tense blessings, and what’s more, they radiate their very blessedness out to others. If those who have been hurt will hurt others, those who are blessed will be blessings to others.



However, please notice that this “simple” rule is just as difficult to follow as those Micah puts before us.



For one thing: you are not me. What you need or want or long for or dream about, is unknown to me. And vice versa. Give me tickets to the Super bowl and you will be disappointed that I do not respond with instant joy and gratitude, any more than you will respond with equal elation when I give you season tickets to a box seat at the Opera. Take me to the ski slope and you can only wonder why I choose to sit by the fire in the lodge rather than break my neck on the mountainside. Or consider my dismay when I serve you my beef stroganoff only to watch you push it from one side of your plate to the other because, unfortunately, you happen to be a vegetarian.



Living Christ’s great commandment to love others as we love ourselves isn’t easy. It takes sensitivity. It takes open-mindedness. It takes being aware, awake, alert - to your own beliefs, tastes, and principles every bit as much as the beliefs, tastes, and principles of the other. Put together the teachings of Micah and Jesus and you will have guides for how to do as God would have you do. But you’re still not home free. We need something more.



Here is where we look to Jesus who lived these principles, embodied them, and treated those whom he met according to all these rules. He took on himself the nature of a servant, lived among us as a genuine human being and showed us what being human is finally all about. He showed us how to be the human being God created us to be. He lived our lives, dreamed our dreams, shared our hopes and fears, grieved as we grieve: in a word, he knew us through and through and could treat us as his very own best friends. This kind of knowing was not just behaving nicely. The goodness of Jesus went to the very core of his being.



Remember what he said about breaking the Ten Commandments? Don’t congratulate yourself because you have not committed adultery: you have entertained lustful thoughts. Don’t think refraining from killing your neighbor is noble: be honest, you killed him with your hatred or your biting words, or the evil look you gave him that murders the soul even more than a knife or a bullet would do. When you think about it, your offense may be even worse than murder. By hating rather than murdering your neighbor, you avoided the consequences of committing murder. You weren’t holy, you were simply a bitter coward.



I remember Herbie who spoke complacently about being insulted by someone to whom he was trying to witness for Jesus. “He was even a minister; a man of God! And he slammed the door in my face. But I prayed for him anyway.” Without thinking what I was saying, I remarked “That’s getting even with him, Herbie”. The look of shock on his face told all. “I’m not sure I like that.” he said. And rightly so. I had unwittingly shown him his true nature. He did not really pray for that man, he enjoyed feeling spiritually superior. Of course Herbie didn’t like what I said. My words were not likable. But I must add I too, was guilty. I hadn’t meant to be kind. I had just broken the Golden Rule myself, all in the name of Jesus.



All these rules, all these principles, all these wise and godly sayings are meant to help us live lives that reflect the nature of God and also reveal that nature that resides in us, for we are created in God’s image. But simple though they are, they are not easy. Live by them as best you can and you will be driven to your knees in remorse and frustration. How weary God must be hearing me cry out “Oh Lord, I did it again!” You may think our prayer of confession each Sunday morning is a bit excessive: I disagree. That prayer is essential, it is the way we prepare for a course correction in our lives.



God mercifully, graciously, lovingly did for us what all the rules and principles could not do. He sent Jesus to live the pattern and die for us. He showed us the consequences of not living as Micah urged us to do. But Jesus does more than show the love of God in action, he redeems us from our sinful nature. He brings us good news. He shows us that though we still suffer from our pride, our egotism, our self-centeredness, our natural bent for grabbing the whole ice cream cone for ourselves, though we still are blind to the devastating consequences of our prejudice, our hypocrisy, our self-righteousness, God does not hold a grudge against us or give up on us. God still has hope for us, God still has the last word and that word is “I love you, you are mine and I will not let you go.”



Trust God and allow him to instruct you and redeem what we could not redeem ourselves. Amen

Ouch! - January 8, 2011

I can usually take the world for whatever it offers. No doubt that’s from my training in philosophy and my long years of dealing with the human race as a minister, counselor, helper and friend. But there are moments when I receive a kick in the gut that winds me and I am left wordless and stunned. All I feel is stinging tears and a gulf of despair too awful to contemplate.

That’s happening this morning. The attempted assassination of a congressman in Arizona, for whatever the reason and by whomever the perpetrator, has assassinated me - momentarily. My usual confidence in the abiding care taking of God seem childish and futile. For the moment, the only thing that makes sense is retaliation and revenge. I assume the shooter(s) had some motive they thought reasonable. Now it’s our turn to wreck vengeance.

Hurt me and I’ll hurt you back, that’s the warning embedded in our DNA, isn’t it? I immediately recall the phenomenon I saw repeatedly in my counseling practice amongst survivors of drug and alcohol abuse, of family members in the wake of hellacious abuses, the scars that still ache for the despised, the disadvantaged, the exception to our society’s norms: it was a simple observation, "Hurt people hurt people".

The trouble with such observations is quite simply, it’s too pat, too obvious, it’s trying to soothe a bruise with a parental kiss and a reassuring hug. At moments like this, we do not want to be soothed, or comforted, we want blood. And for those like myself, who never was much good at inflicting physical pain on others, there is too often the other escape - despair. We find ourselves growling "I hate the human race", only to realize such a confession necessarily includes self-hatred, for we all belong to this despised race, whether we like it or not.

I do believe in God. I do believe in the possibilities of humanity. I cherish the progress I have seen, and in which I eagerly participate. I just can’t quite get past the hurt, the dismay, the horror that is exposed by an act like this. It is as if Satan himself had suddenly popped up in front of me grinning: "Go ahead, hate me" he gloats, "I want you to. Hate is my victory."

It is just such moments when I can completely understand the pathos of the cross and be humbled by the spirit of Jesus who simply prays "Father, forgive them, they know not what they do."

I have a new neighbor that is taking some getting used to. In all my years I have not had a boombox neighbor before. The resonance of his stereo is felt and heard and slamming doors, and scraps of dropped trash finding their way unto my lawn only add to my dissatisfaction with him. I feel helpless, not wanting to be an old grouch, yet unable to deny I am feeling intensely grouchy. I’ve spent much time contemplating this situation and wondering what I could do about it.

As I pondered the tragedy of this senseless killing in Tucson, it suddenly struck me that I am preparing myself for just such an insane act myself, right here on Phillips Ct. My anger and my urge to retaliate springs from the same fountain of perversity that fed the act of that gunman who killed so wantonly in Arizona. He is not alone. We’ve seen this at Ft. Hood, and in Maryland, in an Amish schoolhouse and in sky scrappers in New York City. Never mind the motive, a woman killed in Paonia or a fallen president in Dallas, all are victims of that same propensity for hatred and violence. And my pouting at a trashy neighbor next door is first cousin to these criminals.

I have no answer to this demon that resides in me, but I do have an unshakable belief. I believe that God weeps with us. This was not, and could never be, the will of God. I also believe that God is not and will never be defeated by this hatred. God may be the composer of a grand symphony that gets interrupted by these squeals of a misplayed clarinet, but even these wails can be the inspiration of a new loveliness so desperately needed by the human soul.

Anne Frank, in her diary, reflecting on the evil and madness of the holocaust that was going on around her, maintained her faith in the human race. She wrote, "I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart". And Jesus on his cross could affirm that God was good and his creation redeemable. Perhaps I am redeemable too.

I pray God that those deaths in Arizona will not be wasted. If no other good comes from them, at least I shall look at my neighbor differently than I did before.







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