Healing Hostility

Healing Hostility

Matthew 18:21-35[1]

It seems that everywhere you look these days you can find hostility. Some of it is very open, even “in your face.” Some of it is more subtle but no less real. It’s not hard to find someone who’s angry about something. And the sad truth is that the hostility is within us as well. All of us have people in our world who “push our buttons.” Sometimes we “go off” in the privacy of our homes, talking to the TV. Or listening to the radio in the car. I think that’s a truth we’d rather not have to face: that we may be part of the problem, not part of the solution. When hostility seems so prevalent, what can one person do?

I’ve seen one man stop a whole line of tanks simply by standing in their way. I’ve seen public officials kneeling in front of angry protesters in a move that seemed to diffuse the tension instantly, at least for the moment. Perhaps the ancient wisdom that “a gentle answer deflects anger” (Prov 15:1, NLT) still holds true. Sometimes, at least. There are times when it seems like hostility and the violence it breeds is like a flood that nothing can stop. But there are times when simple, honest, friendliness can win over even the most stubborn enemy.

In order to be able to take that kind of friendly approach even toward those who are openly hostile to us, we have to find a way to heal the hostility in our own hearts first. I think that’s where our Gospel lesson for today comes in. Jesus teaches Peter to go beyond forgiveness that only goes so far. Rather, Jesus says to practice unlimited forgiveness.[2] That’s quite a tall order for most of us. There are some people who have done us wrong in such a hurtful way that we simply find it impossible to let go our hard feelings. And yet, Jesus doesn’t let us off the hook—he makes it clear that those of us who look to God for unlimited forgiveness must put it into practice in our lives as well.

And to reinforce the point, Jesus tells a parable. A king demands of his servant the settlement of an unimaginable fortune—10,000 “talents,” which would have been several billion dollars in our world. When the servant begs for more time to pay, the king relents and forgives the entire debt. That’s hard for me to fathom! Who forgives that kind of debt? And yet, as the story goes on, the first servant goes out and demands settlement of a much smaller debt: about $10,000. When the second debtor begs for more time, using the exact same words he used, he refuses to even grant him more time to pay. When the King hears about it, he brings the first servant back in and states the obvious: “Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?” (Matt. 18:33). And the point of the story is that we who have known God’s unlimited forgiveness are to extend that to others “from the heart” (Matt. 18:35).

Unfortunately, Jesus doesn’t teach us how to do this. It’s much easier said than done, I find. I’ve learned that I have to get to the place where I can truly understand and even empathize with someone who I feel has done me wrong in order to offer them this kind of unconditional forgiveness. That doesn’t always come easily. In fact, sometimes I have to have an experience where I wind up being in their shoes myself to be able to reach that level of awareness and empathy. Sometimes it has taken me years. Sometimes, it has taken me decades.

There’s a film called The Interpreter that I think illustrates the choice we face. The film is about an interpreter at the United Nations named Sylvia. She tells the story of a rite of forgiveness in Africa called the “Drowning Man Trial.” When someone is murdered, after a year of mourning, the killer is tied up and thrown into a river to drown. The family of the victim then have to choose—if they let the killer drown, they will have justice, but they will spend the rest of their lives grieving. If they save the killer from drowning, their act of saving a life can heal their own grief. I wonder what I would do if faced with that choice!

Whether there is or ever was such a thing as a “drowning man trial,” I think it serves at least like a parable for us: do we forgive as we have been forgiven, and in so doing find healing for ourselves? Or do we nurse our hurt feelings, our hostility, and our anger, and so find ourselves trapped in bitterness? I think most of us would agree that it’s better to come to the place where we can acknowledge that we share a common humanity with those who have done us harm. When we forgive them, we not only take a step towards healing the hostility we may feel. More than that, by changing our own hearts, we put a little more kindness, a little more friendliness, a little more understanding out into the world. And I do believe that the more we do that, the more we can heal the hostility that plagues us all.

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[1] © 2020 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 9/13/2020 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman NE.

[2] Cf. M. Eugene Boring, “The Gospel According to Matthew,” New Interpreters Bible 8: 380, where he observes, “Whoever counts has not forgiven at all, but is only biding his or her time (1 Cor 13:5). The kind of forgiveness called for is beyond all calculation.” 

Eliminating Hostility

Eliminating Hostility

Ephesians 2:11-18[1]

I’ve spoken before about the concerns I have about the hostility that divides our culture. We’ve seen a little of that over the last few weeks as our nation debates the legacy of oppression and the continued use of a particular flag as a symbol. We’ve seen it in the disagreements over sexual ethics and the morality and legality of marriage. We’ve seen it in the continuing dispute about immigration policy. But these are just the latest expressions of our polarization as a people.[2] When we cannot even discuss the issues that face us without resorting to insults, rage, and even sometimes physical violence, the level of hostility in our society is out of control in my opinion.

As I’ve said before, the really sad part of this is that people who profess to follow Jesus Christ participate in this public brawl. In fact, there are some who claim that God is on their side and feel entirely justified in using hateful words and actions against those with whom they disagree—or worse! I realize that we are all human and our feelings on a matter can get the best of us at times, but I must say I continue to be stunned by the way in which otherwise good and kind Christian people can get riled up at each other. In my opinion, when we let that happen, we are choosing our need to be right over our commitment to Christ and to one another in the Body of Christ.

But the truth is that the community of faith has always faced issues that have been divisive and have even provoke volatile reactions. The world that St. Paul inhabited was just as torn by disunity, strife, and hostility as ours—perhaps more so.  Most if not all the churches of his day were living with the tension between Jewish and Greek and Roman members. If those terms don’t mean much to us today, let me say that they didn’t mix well.[3] From the Jewish perspective, everyone fell into one of two categories.  Either you were one of the Jewish people, who were God’s chosen ones, or you were a Gentile.  Many Jewish people hated and despised Gentiles as “dogs.”  Nor was that kind of thinking limited to the Jewish people.  From the Greek perspective, everyone was either a cultured Greek or a crude barbarian.  And the Romans seemed to think that everyone who wasn’t a Roman was savage and uncivilized. It’s the kind of either/or, all or nothing mindset that says that you’re either one of us, or you’re our enemy.

Into that world, the Apostle Paul proclaimed a message that must have seemed like wishful thinking. He proclaimed the good news that in Christ God has eliminated all the hostilities that divide the human family. In our lesson for today, he approaches the issue from a Jewish perspective.[4] He alludes to the fact that, while Gentiles were permitted to enter the outer courts of the Temple, they were forbidden to go into the inner courts where the Jewish people worshipped.[5] There was literally a “wall” that divided the two groups at the Temple in Jerusalem. But Paul says that through his death and resurrection, Christ “has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us” (Eph. 2:14). Despite all the differences and divisions, all the hatreds and hostilities that existed in his world, St. Paul believed that Christ had torn down all the walls that separate the human family.

He went further than that. In his mind, Christ not only “put to death” the hostility that exists between different groups of humanity (Eph. 2:16). He went beyond that and created “one new humanity” by reconciling us all to God. And so the Apostle says that in his death and resurrection, Jesus the Christ has “made peace” for the human family. Indeed, Paul can say, “he is our peace” (Eph. 2:14). Again, in a world that knew precious little peace, St. Paul had the boldness to envision the peace that Christ made for us all, transforming all humanity into one family, united in faith and hope and love. He viewed Jesus’ death as an act of peace overcoming the hostility that infects the human race.  He believed that the peace inaugurated by Jesus Christ could heal the divisions of his world.[6]

I guess the question that faces us in our divided world is whether we believe that Jesus is our peace. We must decide whether we are willing to follow the example of the Apostle Paul in viewing Christ’s death and resurrection as an event that eliminates any reason for continuing to cherish hostility toward other human beings. We have to figure out for ourselves whether we believe that Christ has indeed torn down all the walls that separate the human family. We have to make up our minds as to whether we think that the peace inaugurated by Jesus Christ can heal the divisions of our world.[7]

It’s not an easy question. The hostility that divides our world is deeply entrenched in some cases.[8] Some parts of this human family that St. Paul says Christ has reconciled into one have been at war with each other for centuries. Can we really muster the faith in this day and age to believe that what Jesus Christ did so very long ago can actually make a difference in the hostility that infects us all? I think that’s for each of us to decide. But what is undeniable is that the Scriptures declare that what Christ has done is powerful enough and far-reaching enough to make peace for the whole human family. And we in the church have been entrusted with a special role as God’s agents of peace. We’re called to demonstrate that the peace Christ has made is more powerful than all the hatreds that divide us.[9] We’re called to serve in community with one another in a way that shows what that peace looks like in everyday life. As we do so, bear witness to the day when all hostility will finally be eliminated by our Savior and Lord.

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[1] ©2015 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 7/19/2015 at Hickman Presbyterian Church in Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. PBS Newshour, “Pew study finds more polarized Americans increasingly resistant to political compromise,” 12 June 2014; accessed at http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/pew-study-finds-polarized-americans-increasingly-resistant-political-compromise/ . One surprising finding is that technology has actually contributed toward our tendency to related only to “people like us.”

[3] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 120, where he contrasts the Greek concept of friendship, which was based on “the equality of the partners” and was therefore exclusive in nature with Jesus’ friendship which included even the unrighteous and the despised. He says, “Jesus breaks through this closed circle of friendship.” Therefore (p. 121), “Christians must show the friendship of Jesus in openness for others.”

[4] Although I speak of “Paul” as the author of Ephesians, the actual composition of Ephesians was likely more complicated. For example, A. T. Lincoln, Ephesians, 128–129, points out that many believe an original hymn lies behind the affirmations of reconciliation here and in Colossians 1:15-20. In fact they think that the hymn original spoke of Christ’s death reconciling “the two” referring to the two parts of the cosmos: heaven and earth. This might make some sense in light of an observation Jürgen Moltmann makes in The Way of Jesus Christ: Christology in Messianic Dimensions, 282–284 regarding evidence that “cosmic forces” were worshipped in that part of Asia Minor. He says, “Because the worship of cosmic forces was a part of their environment, the Christian congregations in Ephesus and Colossae had apparently found themselves faced with the question about the scope of Christ’s lordship. The Christian answer was that since Christ is the mediator in the creation of these powers, he is also their redeemer, and therefore their true Lord (Eph. 1:21; Col. 2:10).”

^[5] J. R. Wagner, “Piety, Jewish” Dictionary of New Testament Background (C. A. Evans & S. E. Porter, Ed.), 799: Gentiles could and did bring gifts and sacrifices to the temple (Josephus Against Apion 2.5 §48; Jewish War 2.17.3 §§412–14; 5.13.6 §§562–63), though they were prevented from moving beyond the outer court by a barrier carrying a strict warning that to proceed further would result in a death sentence (Josephus Antiquities 15.11.5 §417; Philo Legatio ad Gaium 31 §212; cf. Acts 21:27–29).

[6] Cf. Ralph P. Martin, Ephesians, Colossians, and Philemon, 32: “The apostle’s teaching holds out the hope and prospect of a reconciled, unified, and amicable society, whose microcosm is seen in the church’s worldwide, transnational, and reconciling family.” Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, Ethics of Hope, 238-39: “In the depths of the paralysing and often deadly conflicts between the peoples, this divine peace already reigns. In the divine depths of the universe, everything is already reconciled. The person who perceives this views his enemies as ‘already reconciled’ and will try to turn the conflict into just community with them.”

[7] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, On Human Dignity: Political Theology and Ethics, 128, where he quotes the 1981 Declaration of Peace by the Society of Protestant Theology: “There are no dimensions of our life in which we cannot be certain of the peace of God. There are no conflicts of our life, neither personal nor political, which are not embraced by God’s will for peace with human beings and his whole creation. There are no enemies, neither personal nor political, for whom God’s will for peace does not apply.”

[8] Cf. Moltmann, Church in the Power, 186-87, where he suggests that in part the inability to be open and vulnerable to other stems from the compulsion to justify one’s being out of a fundamental insecurity. He contrasts that with the Christian faith in justification by God, which frees us from the burden of self-justification, and grants us the freedom (p. 188) “to recognize the other person in his human dignity and his human rights” and (p. 189) to recognize “the other in his otherness. In this way, the church is to be (p. 188) “a fellowship of the justified who no longer have to justify themselves” and are therefore free from all that divides us from each other.

[9] Cf. Confession of 1967, 9.21-26: “To be reconciled to God is to be sent into the world as his reconciling community. We are entrusted with God’s message of reconciliation and share his labor of healing the enmities which separate us from God and from each other.” Cf. also Henri Nouwen, Here and Now, 109, where he says that a “truly compassionate heart” is “as heart that remains open to all people at all times.”

Visualizing Peace

Visualizing Peace

Eph. 2:11-22[1]

Last week, we talked about St. Paul’s vision of God’s plan to restore all things by gathering them together in Jesus Christ (Eph. 1:10).  It’s a vision of unity, wholeness, and peace, for the whole human family.  But when you look at the human family in our day, I wonder if we can even begin to conceive what that kind of peace might look like.  We are divided by politics, divided by religion, divided by race, and divided by the violence that runs rampant through this family of ours.  Can we really imagine unity, wholeness and peace—between Republicans and Democrats, between Christians and Muslims, between Jewish settlers and Palestinian activists, between tribal warlords who wreak havoc all over the globe?  I think in fact that in the current state of things, with all these different groups of people who are so at odds with each other—who even hate one another enough to kill—it’s difficult if not impossible for us to visualize the kind of peace St. Paul hoped for.

It’s not as if the world St. Paul lived in was any less divided.  He was facing his own set of prejudices in the churches he served.  Most if not all the churches of his day were living with the tension between Jewish and Greek and Roman members .  From a Jewish perspective, all non-Jews were Gentile heathen.  From a Greek and Roman perspective, all others were uncultured and uncivilized barbarians.  As you can imagine, this created some problems among the churches.  In fact, that’s probably an understatement.  A careful reading of his letters suggests that St. Paul was always dealing with one conflict or another relating to the divisions in his world that were troubling the churches. 

Nevertheless, he could still envision all those divided people coming together in Christ in a world of unity, wholeness, and peace.  The reason is that he believed that Jesus’ death on the cross effected reconciliation between the divided parts of the human family.  He framed this from a Jewish perspective—in his mind it was the rules and regulations of the Law that separated the Jewish people and the Gentiles of his day and therefore built a dividing wall of hostility between them.[2]  At least part of the outcome of Jesus’ death was to cancel out the validity of the rules that divided people. 

But I think there was more to it that made St. Paul believe that the future of the human family was one of unity.  He says that through Jesus’ death, he “made peace” for us all.  In part, it would seem that Paul is referring to the idea that Jesus’ death reconciled us all to God.  The implication is that if we can be reconciled to God, then we should be open to reconciliation with each another.[3]  But I think more importantly, one aspect of this line of thinking has to do with the idea that the only way to overcome hatred is to absorb it by responding with love.  It’s an ancient concept:  you cannot overcome hatred with hatred.  You can only overcome hatred with love.  You cannot overcome violence with violence.   You can only overcome violence with peace. [4] And so it is that St. Paul viewed Jesus’ death as an act of peace overcoming the hatreds and divisions of the human family.  He believed that the peace inaugurated by Jesus Christ could heal the divisions of his world. 

I guess the question facing us is whether we believe that peace can heal the divisions in our world.  Despite St. Paul’s proclamation of a “new humanity” united in Christ, it seems that, if anything, the conflicts of our world have proliferated.  I wonder whether part of the problem is that we have not taken our role as the “Body of Christ” seriously enough.  As the Body of Christ, it is our task to demonstrate what that unity looks like in our life together as communities of faith.[5] It is our job to extend the grace and mercy and love and peace of Christ to the people of our world. 

That may seem a daunting task.  There is so much division, we may wonder what one person can do to change all that.  What can our peaceful acts accomplish in the face of so much hatred and anger and violence?  In spite of the size of the problem, I do believe that one peaceful act can transform the whole world.[6] One act of patience, one act of kindness, one act of understanding, one peaceful act can have a ripple effect in our world, the end of which we may never know.  Our peaceful actions in our everyday lives can contribute toward the vision of a human family living together in unity, wholeness, and peace. 

Jesus of Nazareth believed this, and he gave his life for it.  St. Paul believed it, and he called the churches of his day and ours to demonstrate that unity.  Saints and sages throughout history have believed it, and have taught those who were willing to listen for generations that it is possible for us to live a different way.  When we believe that what we do can make this kind of difference, then maybe we can visualize the peace St. Paul envisioned—because we will see its effect on ourselves and on the people around us.[7]

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[1] © 2012 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 7/22/12 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2] Cf. Ralph P. Martin, Ephesians, Colossians, and Philemon, 35-36; cf. also Perkins, “The Letter to the Ephesians,” New Interpreters Bible XI:399.

[3] Cf. Perkins, “Ephesians,” New Interpreters Bible XI:398.

[4] Cf. Dhammapada 5: “Hatred is never appeased by hatred in this world. By non-hatred alone is hatred appeased. This is a law eternal.”

[5] Cf. the Book of Order 2011-2013 G-1.0304: Faithful church membership includes “demonstrating a new quality of life within and through the church.”  Cf. also Confession of 1967, 9.21-26: “To be reconciled to God is to be sent into the world as his reconciling community. We are entrusted with God’s message of reconciliation and share his labor of healing the enmities which separate us from God and from each other.”

[6] Cf. Thich Nhat Hanh, The Sun My Heart, 39-41: “Our entire society can be changed by one person’s peaceful presence”; Thich Nhat Hanh, You Are Here, 6-7: “Peace is contagious.”

[7] Cf. Martin, Ephesians, Colossians, and Philemon, 32: “The apostle’s teaching holds out the hope and prospect of a reconciled, unified, and amicable society, whose microcosm is seen in the church’s worldwide, transnational, and reconciling family.”

A Terrible Love of Hatred

Jon. 3:1-5, 10[1]

Some of you may know that I’m a “bachelor” this weekend. What you may not know is that I’m not a very good bachelor! I usually spend a lot of time watching mindless movies. This weekend, I’m going through the Star Wars series—in Blu-Ray! I haven’t always been a fan of what are now known as Episodes 1 through 3—they aren’t the original Star Wars! I’ve always much preferred the original films—even though the acting is pretty bad, and the effects are primitive by today’s standards.

But I decided to watch them anyway. And this time I noticed something. When you only watch the original movies, Darth Vader is this evil, cruel, brutal villain. He’s somebody just about anybody could love to hate, because he’s the right hand of the emperor, the instrument of oppression, injustice, and cruelty in the galactic empire. But something different happens when you watch the new movies. You meet Darth Vader as cute, sweet, wounded little Anakim Skywalker! It’s pretty hard to hate Anakim. Even when he whines like a spoiled teenage about not getting the recognition he believes he deserves. Even when he turns to the dark side of the force and becomes Darth Vader. You still have the image of that cute, sweet little boy!

In the days of Jonah, city of Nineveh represented the center of evil and brutality and cruelty. It was the capitol of the Assyrian kingdom, and they were known throughout the Ancient Near Eastern world as ruthless conquerors. Nineveh was to Jonah what Babylon and Rome would be to later generations.[2] It was a city that any Israelite would love to hate. You would think that Jonah, as an Israelite, would be happy that God was planning on destroying Nineveh. Of course, being happy about it, and obeying the call to go into the heart of the devil’s den to announce it are two completely different things![3]

Despite his best efforts to the contrary, Jonah winds up in Nineveh, walking the streets and declaring God’s impending judgment. And, lo and behold, the people of the Nineveh repent! Even such a brutal and hated city—called a “city of bloodshed” by the prophet Nahum (Nah. 3:1)—isn’t beyond the power of God’s Spirit to soften their hearts to repentance. No less than the “King of Nineveh” proclaims a fast on the odd chance that they might avert disaster.

And it would seem that not only is Nineveh not beyond the power of God’s Spirit, it is also not beyond the scope of God’s love and grace and mercy! In response to their repentance, God relents. Instead of rejoicing over the success of his preaching, Jonah goes off on a hillside to pout. Turns out he wanted the people of Nineveh destroyed—men, women, children, and even the animals![4] In fact, he admits that’s why he ran the other way in the first place—he was afraid that God would have mercy on them (cf. Jon. 4:2). Seems Jonah had a terrible love of hating the people of Nineveh.

What is it that makes us so fond of this terrible love of hating certain people? For some of us, I think it is fear. There are many of us who are afraid that someone will take away what is ours, or violate our sense of safety and security by a crime or an act of terror. We are so afraid that we can only respond to certain people whom we have “decided” are criminals and terrorist with fear and hatred. For some, it is religious arrogance. They are so certain that they are on God’s side and God is on theirs, that anyone who differs or disagrees with them in any way become not only their enemies but also God’s enemies. And if they’re God’s enemies, then we’re perfectly right to hate them. Or lock them up in prison camps as long as we please. Or summarily strip them of all human rights.[5]

I think that was Jonah’s problem.[6] He bought into a version of the Jewish faith that basically said that they were God’s chosen people and everybody else was not. All of the grace and goodness that God showered on the Jewish people made those who bought into this idea think that somehow they were immune from the possibility of displeasing God in any way. They believed, regardless of what they did, they were automatically on God’s side. And as a result, everybody else was excluded. But it would seem from the story of Jonah that God had a lesson for all those who think they have an exclusive claim on God’s love. Even godless, ruthless Nineveh is not so far gone as to put them beyond the reach of God’s Spirit softening their hearts to repentance. Even the people that Jonah and others who shared his inflated sense of self-importance loved to hate are not beyond the scope of God’s mercy and love!

Of course, it’s all too easy for us to sit back from our comfortable vantage point and shake our heads at such religious egotism. But the fact of the matter is that we too have people we love to hate. During the era of the Second World War, for many people it was Adolf Hitler or Emperor Hirohito. That hatred shifts as one enemy after another falls by the wayside. During the “Cold War,” the people we loved to hate had names like Khrushchev and Brezhnev. Then it was the Ayatollah Khomeini. Then it was Saddam Hussein. Then it was Osama Bin Laden. But no matter what, we always seem to have this terrible love of hatred. It seems we’re not capable of seeing them as little children who were once as innocent and sweet as Anakim Skywalker.

The hard truth is that we share the terrible love of hatred that kept Jonah from rejoicing in the miracle of repentance and restoration wherever it happened. In fact, in the Christian faith, we have a place for the people we love to hate—we call it hell. And there are certain people we love to hate so much that we’re all too happy for them to literally go to hell! And yet, the joyful lesson of this season, the good news of Epiphany—that wherever we are, God is there, loving us, nurturing us, drawing us into the joy of God’s life and love—that wonderful good news isn’t just ours to hoard; it is a message that applies to all people, everywhere. Even those we love to hate. Especially those for whom we cherish a terrible love of hatred. No one is so far gone that God’s Spirit cannot bring them to repentance. No one is beyond the scope of God’s mercy and love.

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[1] © 2012 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 1/22/12 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2] Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, s.v., “Jonah, Book of,” by W. Neil; James Limburg, Hosea-Micah, 139-140.

[3] Cf. Phyllis Trible, “The Book of Jonah,” VII:515 on the disjunction of an Israelite prophet preaching to the people of Nineveh.

[4] Cf. Limburg, Hosea-Micah, 152-57.

[5] Cf. Desmond Tutu and Mpho Tutu, Made for Goodness, 89, for a similar perspective based on the Rwandan genocide.

[6] On this view, see Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, s.v., “Jonah, Book of,” by W. Neil, p. 967; for a range of different interpretations, see Trible, “The Book of Jonah,” NIB VII:488-90.