3 before Lent
The passage from Ecclesiasticus makes it sound so very easy – God hasn’t given us permission to sin, so we just shouldn’t – sin. Perhaps I should just stop here. Don’t sin. We can all go home.
But we do sin, don’t we. All the time and in all sorts of ways. Sometimes it because we find ourselves in situations where we have a choice. But no matter which alternative we choose, it will involve hurting someone or doing something we’re not comfortable with. The lesser of two evils.
Sometimes we don’t see till afterwards that what we said or did was wrong – at the time we thought we were doing the right thing but – with hindsight – it just wasn’t.
Sometimes we are wronged, and everything we do or say makes things worse. I know two Roman Catholic women whose husbands have deserted them, who are now unable to receive communion because they are divorced. Things will get worse if they marry divorcees, which, I think, shows that rules sometimes need to be bent a little for the sake of compassion. Churches including our own Church of England, have, I think, been sinful in their dealings with those whose marriages have fallen apart, or whose love for someone of the same sex is deemed unacceptable. The application of the law with a lack of love and compassion is the key here. The law can, and often is, be used to wound, limit and exclude others. The righteous feel more righteous as the wounded are labeled and cast out as sinners.
I think this is what Jesus is saying in today’s gospel passage. Rules are essential for the proper ordering of organisations and societies. But rules have their limits. Some people are very adept at keeping to the letter or the law whilst using that law to grind others into the dirt or whop them around the head. And of course, laws can be unjust. Somewhere in my ancestry is a man who was hanged for stealing sheep – he was probably trying to feed a starving family.
In order for any rule or law to work properly, we have to look at the effect it will have on the person on its receiving end.
As Jesus pointed out, most of us can avoid murdering people quite easily, but our anger has the possibility of making someone’s life a misery. I was once on the management committee of a women’s refuge. During my time there two women were indeed murdered by a partner – they had returned home to collect their possessions and never made it back to the safety of the refuge. But much. Much more common were women bearing terrible wounds inflicted by angry men which were often purposefully inflicted so as to be invisible to others in normal circumstances, but which were very real and very paininful to those who suffered. And that was just the physical wounds – psychological scars are even harder to see.
Laws and rules, then, need to be applied with compassion and humanity. If this is not the case, then the laws and rules themselves lead us into sin. There are always some who develop an inflated sense of their own righteousness (I’m an upright, law abiding citizen) whilst leaving a trail of hurt and destruction in their wake. Unjustly, I think Christians have often waved this accusation at the Jews, who have always been great upholders of the law. What we don’t see as Christians is the huge volume of commentary on the law – midrash, as it is called, which gives the law its context and discusses its application in everyday life. Judaism isn’t as black and white as we have often perceived it. But, in truth, anyone from any religion or political persuasion, is capable of uncompassionate application of the law. And atheists/humanists are not exempt either – how often have I heard it said by this group of people that the church is full of hypocrites, as if they, themselves, are exempt from hypocrisy. We all need to be
very self-critical in our application of laws and rules. We need to ask ourselves a very difficult question – Am I standing up for righteousness and truth, or am I doing this to make myself feel good and someone else feel bad? Let us ponder this as we go about our daily lives this week.
In today’s passage, which is part of the Sermon on the Mount Jesus is calling us to compassion for others. This turns religious law on its head – changes its application, but doesn’t dispense with it altogether. Religious and secular laws are there for the correct ordering of society – without them it would be chaotic anarchy. We should respect and uphold the law to this end. But what we tend to do is to use it to exclude, to vilify, to trample on others, and to boost our own sense of righteousness and self esteem.
The good news is that, when we bring our failings to God, we are forgiven. It’s like getting a brand new page or exercise book with no crossings out or splodges of ink. This amazing forgiveness itself changes our attitude to the law, and its keepers and breakers – all of these are objects of GOd’s love, as are we ourselves. In knowing this we begin to lose our need to make ourselves feel better by making others feel worse. We are all loved, completely, absolutely and unquestioningly loved – and this by the one who gave us the law in the first place. The God who is love.
