In this morning’s Gospel lesson, Jesus speaks to His faithful and offers us a glimpse of both discipleship and how the Kingdom of God comes to earth in Christ Jesus.
They sound almost like proverbs, these
pithy statements of Jesus. A disciple is hated and responds with love. A
disciple is cursed and responds with blessing. A disciple is abused and
responds with prayer. At first glance, it seems this is to be a sermon on
forgiveness, refusing to hold a sin against those who have sinned against us.
But, then the narrative shifts slightly: when encountering a beggar, a disciple
gives. When having things stolen, a disciple does not seek repayment. That’s
not exactly speaking of forgiveness. And again, the narrative goes deeper:
“love your enemies and do good, and expect nothing in return.” What is Jesus
doing?
Again and again, in real-life situation
after situation, Jesus reveals one principle that rules over all. Mercy.
"Be merciful even as your Father is merciful" (6:36).
What delights me about this list is
that these are only moments. Moments of mercy. People sometimes accuse
Lutherans of having faith that is too much head or too much heart and not
enough hands. People want to see skin on your theology, so to speak. By listing
a series of situations in rapid succession, Jesus overwhelms us with how
practical, how real, how tangible, how concrete, how utterly achievable life as
a disciple of Jesus in the kingdom can be.
Here’s the beauty: we don't need
special skills to be a Christian. Having received mercy, we offer mercy. It’s a
gift given to all of God’s people of great and overflowing measure. Mercy in,
mercy out.
I read an article the other day – I’m
sorry, I forget the source – that said Americans are becoming more and more
polarized, not only politically but socially. More than ever, we are living in
places that mirror our own ideas, ideals, political beliefs, religious ideas,
and educational or professional standards. The danger of that is we aren’t
seeing others as flesh-and-blood people, but as things to either win to our side
or defeat. And, when confronted with people or ideas we don’t like, conventional
wisdom says overwhelm and overcome.
It's a sad commentary that even the Ad
Council is now running commercials encouraging people to practice compassion.
Jesus says we don't need to surround
ourselves with only certain kinds of people. When confronted with anger,
disparagement, and rejection, we suffer without vengeance. When coming across
those who are homeless, helpless, and hopeless, we love without distinction. We
continue to live in the world, but we do so fully invested in our daily lives
because we know that the kingdom of God is present here. Anytime and
everywhere, moments of mercy can break out in our world.
Look no further than the cross of
Jesus. The Innocent one prayed for forgiveness of those who murdered Him. The
beguiled one spoke words of eternal power to the man who, only moments earlier,
mocked Him for being powerless. The dying Son commended His own mother into the
loving hands of St. John. The King of the Jews, thirsty for righteousness,
denied himself even a sip of water to slake His thirst, suffering in our place
to the end. The Son of God, who sacrificed Himself for all of the world, pleaded
for the Father’s mercy, only to be met with the silence of separation that we
deserved. The Lamb of God, with His dying breath, delivered mercy to a world of
sinners with His cry, “It is finished.”
The beauty of this is that moments of
mercy can be quite powerful. God can use a moment of mercy to change a person's
life.
We are soon approaching the season of
Lent and we will again hear the Passion of Jesus, His crucifixion and death.
When Jesus died, St. Matthew records that a centurion stood at the foot of the
cross and confessed, “Truly, this Man was the Son of God.” According to
tradition, the centurion’s name was Longinus and his confession was soon put to
the test as Jewish and Roman leaders worked in concert to spread rumors that Jesus’
body was stolen by the disciples, not resurrected. Not only did Longinus refuse
to be part of the scheme, he openly and publicly spoke of Jesus’ bodily
resurrection. Later baptized, Longinus went to Cappadocia where he became a
powerful evangelist even in the face of persecution by Jews and prosecution by
the Roman government as a traitor. When he was finally trapped, he prepared a
meal for his captors-to-be. Following in the footsteps of His Savior, Longinus
said, “I am the man whom you seek,” and surrendered himself. He was taken to
Jerusalem and, tradition says, he was martyred not far from where he made his
first confession.
In the hand of God, one small act of
mercy can be the beginning of new life for the lost.
To those fully schooled in the ways of
the world, this way of the kingdom seems wrong. Unjust. Backwards. You should
defend yourself, claim your rights, guard your possessions, and repay evil with
evil. Fight dirty. Get even plus one. Do unto others before they do unto you. But
in the kingdom of God, moments of mercy are the wrong that makes things right.
Consider how Christ made us children
of the kingdom. He came to us in our sinfulness and bought our lives with his
innocent suffering and death. As Luther reminds us, "he has redeemed me .
. . not with gold or silver but with his holy, precious blood and with his
innocent suffering and death." The death of Jesus is the wrong that makes
things right.
God, the Father, sent his Son into our
world to be the spring of his bountiful mercy. By his death and resurrection,
Jesus opens a fountain of mercy that has a never-ending stream. You saw this
again this morning – mercy flowing through baptismal water to claim Brittany
and Adalyn as His own dear children. Just as water can awaken life in soil that
has been dry and dead for years, so too God brings life in the wilderness of
our world through moments of mercy.
This is important because we live in a
world that has lost sight of mercy. Our culture is changing – not always for
the better. We are becoming a cancel culture. If you’ve not heard this term, in
a cancel culture, if a moment of sin or error is uncovered, then the one who
committed that sin is canceled. They are declared irrelevant, unimportant, not
worthy of time and effort. Like a stamp that is cancelled, a cancelled person
is seen as worthless. A text message from twenty years ago containing a racial
slur is enough to cancel someone’s career. A poorly chosen social media post
cancels someone from the cheer squad. It doesn't matter that a teenage boy can
grow and change and even repent of his earlier actions. Society’s answer to sin
is cancelation. Not forgiveness. And certainly not restoration.
In a cancel culture, the supposed cure
actually kills. Cancellation purifies by exclusion. It sanctifies by silencing.
And soon our streets will be filled with people who don't matter.
Into such a world, Jesus speaks these words to
his people. He awakens in our lives an echo of his grace. Repentance,
forgiveness, new life are foreign concepts in a culture obsessed with
canceling. But in the kingdom of God, these are the ways of God's working. So,
it is a blessing not only for us but for our world that Jesus comes and speaks
these words today.
He reminds us that the kingdom we live
in is a kingdom of grace, filled with moments of life-changing mercy breaking
out in our world. Having received mercy, we share mercy with those who need it
most.
In Jesus’ name. Amen.
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