Sunday, June 22, 2008

Not Peace, But a Sword

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Some of the most disturbing words in the Bible are in this passage from Jesus, saying "I have not come to bring peace, but a sword." Setting family members against each other, and saying those who put family members before God are not worthy of God seem cruel and even more confusing as it appears to be against the commandment to honor one's mother and father.

The answer to this difficult passage, I believe, lay in the paradox which follows it: Those who find their life will lose it and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.

The easiest approach to this passage is the explanation that the Gospel of Matthew was written during the time of persecution. It was politically subversive to be a Christian since Christians would not recognize the authority or especially the divinity of the emperor. Being caught in Christian company or at worship was an offense punishable by at least prison and more likely by death in any one of many gruesome and agonizing ways.

On the religious level, Jewish synagogues also considered Christianity a threat to their law and established way of life. Traditional Jewish teaching did not recognize Jesus as the Messiah, as Christians insisted, and steadfastly upheld the law of Moses which Christians no longer felt bound to obey. The inclusion of Gentiles into the membership of Christianity only aggravated the animosity the Jews felt toward Christians. Punishment from the synagogues regardless of those handed out by the Roman government were severe ostracism and expulsion from the temple membership. Moreover, if someone was discovered to be a Christian, their whole family could be under suspicion and face similar punishments on both religious and governmental levels.

Families were indeed torn apart by matters of faith. Relatives did turn each other in to avoid suspicion. Horrible choices were made and grisly consequences followed. There were Christians who denied their faith in Jesus to avoid punishment and were then excluded from the Christian church on the grounds of betraying Jesus and also for fear that no one knew where this person's loyalty lay. They might just be a spy to turn in the fugitive Christian community.

It's against this backdrop that the Gospel of Matthew was written and those hearing the Gospel read would have listened very somberly and knowingly of the truth in these words. The convictions of one's faith have far reaching impact. As I said earlier, that would be the easy approach. To put it in the context of history and therefore safely out of the way.

But taking that approach wouldn't do us much good. We need to be able to bring these scriptures into our lives and wrestle with them especially when they make us uncomfortable. One question that echoes down through the centuries from this passage is, "What do you believe so fervently that you would risk your family, your life and everything you've ever known, rather than deny it?" Agonizing stories and situations that try to answer this question make up a good deal of literature. One of my favorite stories, A Man for All Seasons, has Sir Thomas Moore prepared to go to his death burning at the stake rather than approve King Henry VIII's divorce. His wife and family beg him to reconsider, the pressures of politics hound him, yet he stays steadfast in his ideals and it causes his death and he dies with the knowledge that his choice will bring immense hardship on his family after he dies. The bitter cost of integrity. It is a sword, and yet it is true to life.

Our truth, what we know of ourselves, what we value, who we are all get wrapped up in our integrity. Whether in dramatic instances or less, we all have faced or will face times when voices will want us to concede a point of our integrity. These scriptures address such times. Jesus said in another part of scripture that he is truth. If that God-part of him is truth, just as the God part in each of us is truth, we cannot deny it and live. If Thomas Moore had recanted his truth, something more important in him would have died, even if his body lived. Earlier in our Gospel Jesus told his disciples not to fear those who can kill the body but not the soul, rather, fear those who can kill both body and soul.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu was often asked during the Apartheid era if he was afraid of being killed. His consistent response was that no one could kill him. They might kill his body, but his soul belonged to God and no one could kill that.

Our truths are a very real part of us and need to be embraced, no matter the cost. Since this is Gay Pride Month I'll tell a personal story of how I relate to this scripture. When I was in my mid twenties I had already come to terms with the fact that I was gay. It was the secret I held close all through my childhood, high school, and college years. I lived in fear that others would find out and that I would become the focus of the kind of torment I'd seen other boys go through. My deepest fear was that my family would disown me and want nothing to do with me. Such things were common stories at the time, they still are tragically for that matter. Even today Christopher Street in Manhattan is one destination of teens thrown out of their homes for revealing their sexuality or as the result of others cruelly outing them. Homeless and afraid, they enter lives that are cruel and from which they can't even begin to lift themselves.

It boggles my mind how families can turn out children they claimed to love just a day before this information came to light. And just as it is true today, it was true thirty years ago when I lived with my secret. I didn't know how my family would react and I didn't dare take the chance.

As I graduated Seminary and entered into a relationship I knew the truth had to come out, and me with it. It was a difficult time with my parents, to give you a taste of New England understatement. But at the end I knew they still loved me and wanted me to be happy. Years of secrecy, fear and shame opened up to healing and truth. I consider this story to be a large part of why I find the healing ministry to be so important. Many of our injuries are not to the body, but the soul and while doctors can tend the sickness of the body, spiritual healing addresses the injuries that lay deep and festering in our souls.

It was in claiming my truth and as the years unfold, living my truth that have given me life. I had reached a point where I was willing to die to my family because the truth in me could not be remain hidden. It was a risk, that turned out happily for me regarding my family.

We all have our truths that we might be living or that might be deep within us yearning to be free. These truths could be our identity in so many ways that can be understood. Our truths may be the intellect or creativity we are afraid to use. Our truths may be our beliefs or doubts. Our truths may be in our business practices. Whatever they are, they are worth risking for.

We might be afraid of negative consequences, perhaps even to death. But unless we grasp our truths, we die anyway in our souls. The whole point of resurrection is trusting that new life will come from whatever death we might imagine or actually face as we grasp our truth. Even if we lose everything and gain the truth that is in us, new life will grow in a far better way. If we lose our lives for Jesus, that is the Jesus who says "I am the truth…" we will indeed gain it.

The scripture that causes us so much trouble as we read it simply brings to light a deep spiritual truth. It does so in the gritty language of a culture two thousand years ago. But it's clear that the truth still applies. Ultimately the sword that Jesus brings cuts through the slavery of fear, or shame, or anger or whatever else might prevent us from living the life God made us to live. Ultimately the words are of liberation and life. Tell your truth to some one, tell it to God, though I suspect, the One who is Truth already knows it. We surely must tell it, live it, embrace it and know that God loves us in the secrets we keep and in the truths that we shout. And that love brings us life.
Amen.

© 2008 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ