Eyerolls and rebukes

June 26, 2016

Luke 9:51-62

Early on in my parenting ventures, I discovered that kids tend to see things as white or black, yes or no, good or evil.  And so I would often find myself trying to soften their play.  When games involved killing bad guys, I suggested that instead of execution we find ways to redeem the offenders. When sticks became weapons, I suggested that instead of shooting out fatal bullets or lasers we could send out bubbles of love that would surround the intended recipient.  

As you might guess, there is a fair amount of eye-rolling that results from such parental suggestions.

But when I look at the news  - the mass shooting in Orlando, wars and refugee crises, the Brexit vote, vitriol and inaction in American politics - I can’t help but wish I could employ my imaginary love-producing weapons pretty much everywhere. 

But recently, I was reminded of my own tendency to assign labels of good and bad, right and wrong, when I was brought to a screeching halt by my own failure to employ bubbles of love rather than bullets.

It all started in the course of defending my kid.  I heard that one of my children was mistreated by another student at school. 

That’s usually how these things start.  With some instance of wrong done against us or someone we love, either real or perceived.  And that’s where it begins for Jesus and his disciples in our story this morning too.  Jesus has sent messengers to go ahead of the rest of the crowd to a Samaritan village and the Samaritans do not receive Jesus.  We aren’t told exactly what happened.  Maybe the Samaritans slammed the door in the faces of Jesus’ representatives.  Maybe they insulted them or denigrated Jesus.  Maybe they even forcefully repelled them from the village.  All we know is that, at least from James and John’s perspectives, it was uncalled for and unjust.

And so, James and John, like little children sword fighting with sticks, react with fervor and righteousness.  “Let’s command fire to come down from heaven and consume them!”  

Wow!  They’ve turned in their sticks for nuclear weapons!

Even Jesus’ closest friends don’t seem to be buying what Jesus is selling.  James and John have been right next to Jesus hearing him talk about love and forgiveness.   They’ve been sent out by Jesus to preach the kingdom of God — to heal the sick and provide hope for the hopeless.  And the first thing they think of when their leader is slighted is payback.

But they aren’t alone in that very human instinct.  

When my kid was mistreated, I was broken-hearted.  I couldn’t stand seeing my child so sad — afraid that this would happen again, not wanting to go back to school.  But I was also angry.  This could not be allowed to happen!  This could not happen again!  It didn’t help that it had been one of those stressful, schlepping days that wear me out and that Holden was out of town so I had no one to vent to.  And so my mama bear instincts came out in full force and I jumped into our Gospel story this morning, and not in a positive way.  I sent an email (which definitely has potential to be a destructive weapon) to the parents of the other student.  It was not, I am sorry to say, an email asking for their help with the situation or seeking understanding.  It was righteous and accusatory.  Maybe not quite consuming fire, but awfully close.

And so, unsurprisingly, I got an email back that was equally righteous and accusatory.  Because that is how these things tend to go.  But this email also accused me of being unchristian and mean-spirited.

This email rebuked me, just like Jesus did with James and John.  

This word “rebuke” means to express sharp disapproval or criticism of someone because of their behavior or actions.  The Greek word also includes a sense of the authority of the rebuker to bring to light something that has, or is about to, go terribly wrong. 

I wish we knew more about how Jesus rebuked James and John.  I’d love to know what Jesus said to them, and I think even more I’d love to know what they were thinking and feeling afterwards. Whatever the exchange, it made James and John go silent.  That was the end of their stick waving, at least on that front.

When I got my rebuke from the other parents, my first instinct was to react again.  To continue escalating.  But that “unchristian” part of the email had really landed on my heart.  And so for several days, I was a little bit paralyzed.  I kept going back over what had happened, justifying myself.  But I finally realized that while maybe I had been “justified” or even “right”, I had not been kind or loving.  And so I finally couldn’t stand it anymore.  I got out a note card and wrote to the parents, in longhand this time — no more email for me.  

It went something like this: “… Please forgive my rash email.  I was reacting as a parent to the hurt of my child, and it sounds like you can relate to that as well.  Please accept my apologies….”  As soon as I stuck a stamp on the letter and put it in the mailbox, the weight lifted from my heart.  I had no idea if my letter would be read or appreciated on the other end, I had no idea if my kid would be free from another bad experience, but at least I had recovered from my own slide into ugliness.  And a few days later, I got an email from the other parents, thanking me for my letter and offering their own apology for their harsh response.  We were all just parents, loving and protecting our kids, in pursuit of what we thought was “right” and “just”, but going too far out of fear and pain.

And who knows what was going on in the minds of the Samaritans that wouldn’t receive Jesus.  Maybe they distrusted people like Jesus because of the way they’d been mistreated in the past.  Maybe they were afraid of opening their hearts to something new.  Maybe they had lost their generous spirit because of scarcity and fear. 

It reminds me of a wise quote that has been attributed to several people, among them an ancient bishop, Philo of Alexandria: “Be kind, for everyone we meet is fighting a hard battle.”

We are all capable of acting and reacting out of fear and anger and despair.  We are all fighting our own battles — big and small, known and unknown.  Which is exactly why understanding matters.  Open hearts matter.  Listening matters.  Forgiveness matters.  About small things, like issues with our kids.  And about bigger things, like how we treat people that are different from us, how we help people in crisis, how we share resources, how we listen to others, and even how we vote.

Jesus exemplifies understanding, open-hearted, forgiving love in the midst of his own pain and struggle.  

Here he is: marching headlong toward the betrayal and torture and death that he knows await him.  And yet, Jesus continues encouraging the people who gather around him to love even those who hate them, to turn the other cheek, to forgive not just 7 times but 70 times 7.  Soon enough, even on the cross Jesus will call on God to forgive everyone involved in his execution.  Jesus consistently makes clear that judgment and wrath are not in our human purview and that the Kingdom of God has no room for revenge.  Like James and John, our purpose as Jesus’ disciples is to bring life and healing, not death and judgment.  

After this episode, Jesus and his disciples went on to another village.  The pain of what had happened in Samaria subsided.  The instinct for vengeance was gone.  James and John were able to put down their sticks and continue in the life-long venture of learning to follow Jesus, step by step.

This is a long haul, being disciples of Jesus.  With more opportunities that we’d probably like to learn how to act, and react, out of love in the midst of heartbreak and wrongdoing.  May we all find the courage and strength of mind to put down our sticks and learn instead how to employ the ultimately undefeatable weapon of love.  Amen.