SECOND SCRIPTURE READING
“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;
and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give
your cloak as well;
and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second
mile.
Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse
anyone who wants to borrow from you.
“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,
so that you may be children of your Father in heaven;
for the Father makes his sun rise on the evil and on the
good,
and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.
For if you love those who love you, what reward do you
have?
Do not even the tax collectors do the same?
And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more
are you doing than others?
Do not even the Gentiles do the same?
Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
***
There was a Super Bowl
commercial from Lumber 84, a mother and her young daughter wake early in the
dark of morning, kiss a tanned and wrinkled grandfather goodbye, and are
stuffed into the back of an open truck, they walk through downpours, through
deserts and dilapidated impoverished communities, dancing together one moment
and high stepping through tall brush the other. At night they stop warming by a
fire in the silhouette of Joshua Trees, then running and hiking in the heat of
the dry day, they ask for water. Meanwhile, along the boarder, chainsaws and
staple guns are noisily constructing a giant wall, to which the mother and
daughter at last come, staring up at the border’s
fortress wall. The daughter pulls out an American Flag she has woven from trash
along the way and from the other side of the wall the construction work drives
home, the contrast of have and haves not. Then, tearful, they suddenly see sunbeams
breaking through a crack just beyond the distance. That crack is a door through
which they enter bathed in light. Then on screen flashes the phrase, “The will
to succeed is always welcome here.”
As pro immigration as I
tend to be, I didn’t like it. It felt to me like
condoning illegal immigration, which doesn’t seem fair when there are those who
have sought asylum here for years and must wait in line. It didn't seem fair
when we aren't letting millions of refugees from war torn lands in our country,
for those from our Southern boarder to be able to simply cross. And while many
of the countries at our Southern boarder are ravaged by gang violence, of a
drug war fueled by American addiction, it didn’t seem fair for this mother and
child to avoid a legal process. This was my American thinking, proudly with
grandparents who came through Ellis Island, and congregants whose families
traversed the Oregon Trail. It didn’t seem
fair.
But I don’t think Jesus works in that type of fair. Unlike the
commercial, Jesus doesn’t measure us by our will to succeed. Jesus measures us
by our will to help others succeed. Likewise, isn't about what we produce;
Jesus measures us by our generosity. And this because Jesus isn’t working in an
ideology of scaristy. Jesus works in abundance. He says,“If anyone wants to
take your coat, give you cloak as well, give to everyone who begs of you and do
not refuse anyone who wants to borrow.” For Jesus, there is faith that the
Father will provide, that grace will win, that giving trumps getting, or in our
case hoarding. Jesus would more identify with our American roots by looking at
the Native Americans care to the first Pilgrims, sharing meals and resources
and trying to get these refugees through the harshest winter of their lives. Whether
it is in Plymouth then or welcoming those from Syria and
elsewhere now. Jesus is more about hospitality than keeping others out, and I
have to practice this sometimes.
I belong to a website
called Couchsurfing. You sign up to host or be hosted by people in other places
when you or they are traveling. I love meeting new people from all walks of
life, but I can’t say I get excited to host people I
don’t know. It means I have to clean the house beforehand, and the guest room
sheets afterward. It means they could possibly steal something from me, or
smell bad. It means I will spend time and energy with them, sitting in the
evening, offering them tea or wine, chatting so they feel comfortable and
welcome, telling them where the coffee is for the morning, but making sure I
wake up to help and see them off (making sure they don’t go with anything of
mine - because what is mine is mine right? I’m so American). I don’t always
sleep well with others in my house, though no one has ever made me feel a
modicum uncomfortable. My uncomfort has always been more about me than it has
them. I have more to loose, and that’s why I do it. I do it because I need to
be reminded of this Biblical mandate to welcome and share even to the point it
makes me uncomfortable. I recognize that we Americans need to feel
uncomfortable. We should feel uncomfortable because that’s Jesus’ intent here.
I don’t imagine he comes down from peaching this on the mountain to smiling
faces, and nodding heads. Its as subversive now as it was then.
Jesus is looking way
bigger than our country and its borders.
He’s reminding me, ‘What isn’t fair is that I was born in this country. It
isn’t fair that I grew up with access to education, and shelter, and food, and
in a time and place of peace and economic stability. Likewise, Katy, it isn't
fair that there are so many others who lack these basic, fundamental needs, and
I would say even fundamental rights.’ But thing about Jesus, and thing about
the kingdom, is that it isn’t about haves and haves nots, in a way where we are
just switching who has what and who doesn’t. That isn’t Jesus’ intent because
Jesus doesn't work from a place of scaristy, he works from abundance. There is
a meme going around that says, “Equal rights for others does not mean less rights
for you. It’s not pie.”
We have cut our country
up as if it were a pie, the Rio Grande to our
South, already with a giant wall, and the 49th Parallel and St.
Lawrence River above with check points at coastguard offices and
boarder patrol. But Jesus isn’t working in
borders. He is actually working against them. And he is not working in mine and
yours, he is that light that shines through the crack the fortress boarder
wall, and opens the door as the mother and child walk through. He tells the
people, “The Father makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and
sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous,” whether you are coming
here legally or illegally, I don't think Jesus really cares. I think the Father
is so much bigger than that. God’s will is to bring blessing on all, whether
you born here, or elsewhere, whether you have or have not. So why are we not
seeking the same? Has our fear stopped our faith? Perhaps its time to practice,
perhaps its time to open our doors, to couchsurfers and boarder crossers,
however they may come. Perhaps its time to hang a little sign in the window of
our businesses that says, ‘Immigrants are welcome here.’ Perhaps its time we
learned Spanish? Perhaps its time we learned Arabic and wrote those welcome
signs in it. Perhaps its time we worry less about building a wall and more
about expanding our dinner table, such as those Native American First Peoples
taught to the first immigrants. So why are asking how do we better keep people
out, when our faith would have us ask, how do we better welcome people in? Why
are we peddling in scaristy, when have a God of abundance.
