If you live much of your life online, like I do, you
have probably noticed that Texas Tech has made worldwide news these past few
days. More precisely, one of our cheerleaders. She’s an avid hunter, and she
has posted pictures on Facebook that show her with her quarry. Not bucks and
deer, but lions, elephants, and even a rhinoceros. She has made many a trip to
Africa to hunt those down.
These photos have caused worldwide outrage, and an
immense outpouring of hatred. People all over the internet proclaim that she is
heinous, that they are disgusted with her, and I have even seen a call to kill
her. And I can’t help thinking, there is something wrong with this.
Not with the fact that there is an immense interest
and compassion for these large animals. That is wonderful. We’ve come a long
way from the times where animals were seen as objects. But if that compassion
is turned into blind and misinformed hatred, something has gone awry.
For here is the thing: you could make the case that she has done nothing wrong. Yes, some of
the animals she hunted are endangered. However, all her hunts were legal,
organized by local agencies. She paid all due fees, she paid the people who
worked for her. She gave the meat to villagers in the area, and she even gave toys
and goodies to local children.
I’m not saying I’m condoning her actions. I do think
there is something morally wrong with hunting animals just for the sake of
hunting. Especially endangered or rare species.
But then, I am not exactly standing on moral high
ground myself. I eat meat, I wear leather shoes, I consume products made from
animals, and all those animals I consume probably had worse lives than the ones
the cheerleader shot. And I am pretty sure the same is true for over 90% of the
people who say they hate her.
And yet, everybody claims moral superiority over
her, explicitly or implicitly. So what is going on here?
It’s precisely what Paul describes in today’s verses
from Romans. We are following the law of sin and death. We live in the world of
condemnation. We are dead in the flesh—not our bodies, mind you, but our inborn
tendency to curve in to sin.
Usually, those words are taken to describe our
relationship with God. But I have come to believe that they describe our
relationship with life and one another. Here is what happens. We receive the
law: a set of rules that tell us how to live. We try to follow the law, for it
is good and makes sense. But then we realize we cannot live up to it. We will
always fall short of perfection.
Take the Sixth of the Ten Commandments. “Thou shalt not kill”, so it is said. Many take this to mean murder,
but I believe it actually talks about all killing. If all life is sacred, as I
believe, then it would make sense to have a prohibition against taking life.
And we would love to live in a world without
killing, wouldn’t we? Except when we try, we realize how difficult it is. Let’s
not even talk about human life right now. Let’s just talk about animal life.
Sure, we can go vegetarian or even vegan. We can avoid any products that use
animals or are tested on them.
But inevitably, we bump into the limits of our
efforts. We are part of an industrial society that destroys the environment and
kills life in the process. We pay taxes that are used, among other things, to
subsidize farmers who practice factory farming. We don’t want roaches in our
kitchen. And so on. Bottom line, we cannot claim innocence.
And we know that, deep down in our hearts. So deep
down in our hearts, we condemn ourselves for being less than perfect. And this
self-condemnation hurts: a burden of pain we carry around every day. And from
this place of pain we lash out whenever we find someone who seems to be even
more reprehensible morally than we find ourselves. That’s what Paul means when
he says we are dead in the law. The law is made powerless by our pain.
This is why the law doesn’t work. All it does is
invite sin. In fact, it creates two types of sinners: those who break it, and
those who use it to put themselves above others. We know those two archetypes
as sinners and Pharisees. But it is safe to say that both live within each of
us.
The only thing that can free us from this suffering
is grace. The forgiveness that tells us, “you are accepted, exactly the way you
are, despite all you could have done better, despite the fact that you will
never be perfect. You are accepted.”
This is the message that Christ brought
us: in the healing of the sick, in the embrace of the outcast. On the cross, he
took our all our wrath, our self-loathing and our judgmental anger on himself
to make us understand that we are redeemed to life. That in all our
imperfection we have never been anything but forgiven.
If we realize that, then the word has accomplished
its purpose. As the prophet puts it: The mountains and the hills burst into
song, the brier turns into myrtle, and the pastures of the wilderness overflow.
As Pastor Kate told us last week, we don’t have to
do anything to earn this grace. In fact, we can’t
do anything. But of course, that’s not the way we roll. Inevitably, once we
have experienced this renewal of our spirits, we ask ourselves, what is next?
What am I going to do with this tremendous freedom? How can I share it with
others?
Today’s Gospel passage tells us how. Spiritual progress,
says Jesus, is akin to sowing seeds on rocky soil. We sow our seeds of love
wherever we can, but some will be taken away or choked by those with ill will.
Others will fail to take root. But the good news is, we don’t have to judge
anyone for that. Not ourselves, not others.
For we have been liberated from the
demands of perfection. We are free to keep on sowing, quietly, confidently. And
eventually, some of our efforts will take root. And we are promised that they
will yield a hundredfold crop.
Unfortunately, no one seems to be paying attention
to Jesus’ words these days. The cheerleader incident is just one example. Even
true compassion can turn very ugly when we add judgment to it. The same is true
on all levels, from our personal lives all the way up to politics and theology.
The left and the right, progressives and conservatives are interlocked in a
deadly battle of petty legalism and mutual condemnation.
The days where
political divisions created energy and progress are over. The nation is tearing
itself apart. Christianity is tearing itself apart. We are going down in a
spiraling dynamic of mistrust and judgment, and this dynamic has to stop. And
the only place where we can put some brakes on is right here. We have to start
with ourselves.
I have a dream for our little congregation. I would
like us to be visible in our community, not as a stronghold of progressive
opinion, but as sowers of love and of mutual respect. I would like us to work
for understanding between the left and the right, Democrats and Republicans,
conservative Christians and progressive Christians.
I would like this
beautiful, simple little church to be a sanctuary for people who are asking
questions. Who don’t know where they’re going, who may be suspicious of any
ready-made directions—including ours!—and who need a space where they can
discover a path to call their own. I would like this to be a safe space where
people can explore and disagree, in matters of ethics, of religion, of
politics.
I believe this is the
only way we can share the bounty we have been gifted.
