This sermon was preached at Glenwood and Canoe Ridge Lutheran Churches, Decorah, Iowa on February 16, 2020. It’s based on Matthew 5:21-37, which is incorporated into the body of the sermon. I’m grateful to Melissa Bills for sharing Debie Thomas’ terrific essay on this difficult text. I recommend you read the entire essay. You can find the link at the bottom of this post. If you’d prefer to listen to the sermon, find it at https://soundcloud.com/stacey-nalean-carlson/.
We’ve stood to honor the gospel, but now I invite you to be seated as we prepare to receive it.
Actually, perhaps it would have been more effective to have you remain standing and then invite you to sit at whatever point in the reading these words from Jesus punch you in the gut. By the end of the reading, I’m pretty sure we’d all be sitting, struck by the force of Jesus’ words.
It would be easy to choose not to read them in worship—but they’re here and they’re not going away. They’ve been used in ways that have caused irreparable damage. So, we’re going to wrestle with them and wonder about them together.
Let’s set the scene first. Jesus has just begun his ministry–calling the first disciples, proclaiming the good news of God’s kingdom, and curing every disease and sickness among the people. Great crowds are now following him. At the start of this chapter, Jesus—seeing the crowds—goes up on a mountain, sits down and begins to teach his disciples. You, he tells his disciples, are the light of the world…Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven (Matthew 5:14, 16).
Then, still teaching his disciples, Jesus tells them that he has come not to abolish [the law] but to fulfill [it] (Matthew 5:17). And it’s here that our gospel reading for today begins.
The holy gospel according to Matthew, the 5th chapter.
Glory to you, O Lord.
[Jesus said to the disciples:] 21“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ 22But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire.
Have you all been punched in the gut already? We can’t even be angry without going to hell? Really, Jesus?
23So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, 24leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.
25Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. 26Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.
27“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ 28But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. 29If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. 30And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell.
I think about the number of congregations that have been scarred by clergy sexual abuse. The damage is staggering. Generations later these wounded churches struggle to trust, to love wholeheartedly, to know themselves as beloved. God knows the damage inflicted on the gospel when disciples—leaders in the church—sin against God’s people in this way. Maybe Jesus is using extreme language here to jar his disciples into realizing the power they wield and the potential they have both to bless and to wound. They need to know, going into this life of discipleship, that how they live their lives matters.
31“It was also said, ‘Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.’ 32But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.
During seminary I was serving as a student chaplain when one of my peers shared how he had responded to a patient’s desire to be married to her boyfriend. They had both been divorced previously, and because their previous marriages had not been annulled, they could not be married in his church.
I understood that my peer was bound to the teachings of his church. But I could not accept his stern, black and white response to this patient who so desperately needed empathy and grace.
So what do we do with words, spoken by Jesus himself, that seem so harsh?
Debie Thomas writes: Remember that in Jesus’ day, women whose husbands divorced them were often left to starve in the streets. They had no financial recourse, they would not be welcomed back into their childhood homes, and the social stigma attached to divorce was severe. What if Jesus is saying, “It’s not enough to follow the letter of the law, hand your wife a certificate of divorce, and send her packing—as if you have no further obligation to a fellow human being. What about her vulnerability? Her shame? Her future?” In other words, in the beloved community Jesus is shaping, we have a responsibility to uphold each other’s dignity as brothers and sisters in Christ—even when our relationships as spouses or partners come to an end. That deeper responsibility cannot be signed away with a piece of paper. It endures no matter what.1
33“Again, you have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.’ 34But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, 35or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. 36And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. 37Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No’; anything more than this comes from the evil one.”
Jesus is on a roll. This isn’t even the end of his lecture to his disciples that day. He goes on: 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…Do not judge, so that you may not be judged…In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the prophets (Matthew 5:43, 7:1, 12).
I’m weary just reading it. How in the world do we live it?
David Lose, writing about Martin Luther’s understanding of the law, says: the law functions remarkably like a mirror whose reflection pierces through all of our pretense and rationalizations to portray unflinchingly persons in desperate need of God’s forgiveness, acceptance, and love.2
Maybe that’s the weariness I’m feeling. It comes hand-in-hand with the recognition that I, that we, cannot fulfill the law of God. We are beloved and broken, saints and sinners, capable of incredible love and self-sacrifice and capable of incredible hatred and self-centeredness.
Jesus holds up a mirror to his disciples, to the gathered crowd, and to us. We are people in desperate need of God’s forgiveness, acceptance and love.
If Jesus hadn’t reframed the commandments, perhaps we could consider ourselves safe. We didn’t murder anyone. We’re good. We’re fine. But we’re not.
As Debie Thomas writes so powerfully in her reflections on this text: [God] wants us to treat each other—not with a bare minimum of civility and morality—but with the deepest respect, integrity, and love...Christianity is not a rulebook for my private morality; it is a deeply incarnational, relational way of life that affects every single human encounter I engage in.3
We are part of a community—called and claimed by God—in which the way we live together matters. This is the point Thomas drives home at the end of her essay: Jesus says in every way he can think to articulate it: you matter. How you live with each other matters. What you say and do, what you focus on, what you prioritize as my disciples—these things matter! … Reconcile with each other. Honor each other. Speak truthfully to each other. Protect each other. Do these things—not to earn God’s blessings, but because you are already so richly blessed.4
Jesus embodied this way of life to which we are called. He wasn’t about keeping the bare minimums of the law. He was about fulfilling the law—living life as God intends to the absolute fullest. He knew himself to be God’s beloved. He loved perfectly–not to earn God’s blessings but because he was already so richly blessed.
Jesus fulfills the law for us. We fail one another in countless ways. Jesus never fails. When awareness of our sin punches us in the gut, God’s grace and mercy heals our hurt and frees us to try again.
Blessed ones, beloved ones, nothing—nothing—can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.
Amen.
1, 3, 4 https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2525-but-i-say-to-you
2 https://wordandworld.luthersem.edu/content/pdfs/21-3_The_Law/21-3_Lose.pdf