Here is a link to our Gospel reading for today from Matthew:
http://bit.ly/1g14Xxp
Our Gospel passage for this week is tough. It seems to be verse after verse of raising the bar. Don’t just keep yourself from killing other people, don’t even get angry with them. Don’t just keep yourself from committing adultery, don’t even allow yourself to look at another person with lust. Don’t divorce. Don’t lie or swear at all. It seems like a prescription for perfection. Be perfect or else. This passage could leave you feeling pretty darn depressed. After all, who reading this reflection has ever achieved this kind of perfection? Who reading this reflection has ever had this kind of control over their thoughts and feelings? I know that I sure don’t have this kind of control over myself.
Sometimes I feel angry with other people, though I don’t think I have ever contemplated killing another person. I have never committed adultery, but I can’t say that I have never felt an attraction to someone who was not really available to me. I am not divorced, but I have great empathy for many people who are divorced, and understand how a couple might arrive at a place where they feel they need to end their marriage. I try to be as honest as I can, but if I am truly honest I have to confess that on occasion in my life I have lied. So what then does this passage mean for me, a far from perfect human being, and perhaps for you, who also may be far from perfect?
Sometimes I feel angry with other people, though I don’t think I have ever contemplated killing another person. I have never committed adultery, but I can’t say that I have never felt an attraction to someone who was not really available to me. I am not divorced, but I have great empathy for many people who are divorced, and understand how a couple might arrive at a place where they feel they need to end their marriage. I try to be as honest as I can, but if I am truly honest I have to confess that on occasion in my life I have lied. So what then does this passage mean for me, a far from perfect human being, and perhaps for you, who also may be far from perfect?
I think if this passage is read literally it is very problematic and not at all helpful for you and me. If we read it literally it will actually harm us. For me this is not a passage about adding more rules to our lives. It is not a passage designed to burden us with shame and self-hate. It is a passage that is trying to get us to look inward. The language is incendiary to be sure, but if you set the language aside and simply look inside yourself, you can start to get to know and understand some inner parts of yourself that you might have kept yourself from getting acquainted with before.
It is easy when we stay at the level of the law to avoid looking at parts of ourselves that make us less comfortable. When we stay at the level of the law we can say to ourselves: “I didn’t murder anyone today. I didn’t commit adultery. I didn’t tell a lie. Check, check, check. I am a good person.” But what if we sought to know, get comfortable with and have compassion for those parts of ourselves that we often try to hide? What if we were to befriend our anger, try to understand it, and hear what it has to say to us? Might it lose some of its power? Might we become less angry? What about that lust we feel for someone who is not available to us? What does that lust want us to know? Or that part of us that felt the need to lie? What does it need from us? When we pretend that these inner uncomfortable parts of us don’t exist in an effort to convince ourselves that we are good people, we give these parts more power. These parts begin to run our lives in ways that lead us to behaviors that might cause us and others harm.
It is easy when we stay at the level of the law to avoid looking at parts of ourselves that make us less comfortable. When we stay at the level of the law we can say to ourselves: “I didn’t murder anyone today. I didn’t commit adultery. I didn’t tell a lie. Check, check, check. I am a good person.” But what if we sought to know, get comfortable with and have compassion for those parts of ourselves that we often try to hide? What if we were to befriend our anger, try to understand it, and hear what it has to say to us? Might it lose some of its power? Might we become less angry? What about that lust we feel for someone who is not available to us? What does that lust want us to know? Or that part of us that felt the need to lie? What does it need from us? When we pretend that these inner uncomfortable parts of us don’t exist in an effort to convince ourselves that we are good people, we give these parts more power. These parts begin to run our lives in ways that lead us to behaviors that might cause us and others harm.
Certainly Jesus is using strong language here. It does get our attention. Sometimes we have to be shocked a little in order to consider a new way of thinking and being. Personally I sometimes need to be hit upside the head. For me that is what the language of this passage is about. It is a wake up slap. It is not meant to be a beating. I hope that it can be the same for you. Not a call to despair and self-loathing, but a call to become curious about those parts of yourself that you might have chosen to hide from yourself and the world. God cares about all of you, the whole you. God cares about the parts you show to the world and the parts that you hide away. Healing comes when can understand that God loves all of you and when you yourself can love all of your parts too.