The Congregational Church in Campbell has a big sign advertising their current sermon series. The title of the series is Things I Wish Jesus Hadn’t Said. I haven’t seen the plan for all seven weeks, but I’m willing to bet good money that today’s gospel reading is on the list. Of all Jesus’ teachings, this one is perhaps the hardest to hear and the most difficult for us to obey.
Jesus said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven, for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” There it is. There’s no way around those words. I know, because I’ve tried to find one. I looked at the Greek, hoping to find a loophole. There isn’t one. Unless there’s been a serious transcription error, Jesus said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
Loving our enemies— the practical application of the great commandment to love our neighbor as we love ourselves—is perhaps the most difficult part of living our faith. It’s not the way we work. It’s not the way people are. But there it is. We are bound by our baptismal covenant to seek and serve Christ in all persons. All persons, not just the ones we like. To seek and serve Christ in them, not just to tolerate them. And we try. Some days—and some years—are better than others. On those other days, we just keep trying, because we are called to pay attention, to notice, to care for the bit of God that each of us carries with us, that little bit of God that makes each of us holy.
All of our lections on this Sunday when we celebrate Independence Day are focused on God’s loving kindness to each of us and on our responsibility to show God’s love to the world. As I considered that responsibility, it occurred to me that maybe we should start with some baby steps. Perhaps the action of loving our enemies is so far beyond our capacity that we tend to dismiss it out of hand. We believe it can never happen, so we put it aside as one of those things that sound good on paper but could never really work. If that’s true—and I think there’s a pretty good chance it is—perhaps we should begin by loving those who aren’t our sworn enemies but are just a little bit different than we are. Perhaps we could begin by respecting rather than tolerating those differences. Perhaps we could begin by rooting out the prejudice that still stands in the way of justice in our land.
Selma Hirsch, a mid-century sociologist, tells us that respect—not tolerance—must be our goal if we hope to diminish prejudice in our time. She points out that tolerance is simply a gentle disguise for prejudice. Our toleration leads us to behave as self-appointed connoisseurs of weaknesses in others or as self-appointed protectors of those whom we deem to be our inferiors. Both the stridently “tolerant” and the proudly prejudiced look very alike: both attack and defense are equally indiscriminate and neither has concern for the individual. Our frequently used metaphor of the United States as a melting pot implies that we will all somehow be transformed into a homogeneous group with shared values, customs and beliefs. Perhaps we need to place more emphasis on the emerging metaphor of the United States as a tossed salad—a place where differences are identifiable, appreciated and savored.
Two hundred and thirty-two years ago, fifty-six men signed the document that is the birth certificate for this nation—the Declaration of Independence. It was not simply the beginning of our country. It was also the beginning of a new way of life—a radical departure from the way life had always been, led by a group of revolutionaries and certainly doomed to failure. Everyone knew it wouldn’t work, that it couldn’t work, that it was against the laws of God and nature. In the face of this impossibility, fifty-six men signed the document which includes the words that can be best understood as the creed of our country, the words that describe the dream—the belief—that guides us: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” These are impossible words to live into. The men who signed the declaration didn’t believe that all men were equal. They only thought that they were equal, and women and people of color were certainly not even part of the equation, but for two hundred and thirty-two years, we have worked to make these words ring true.
Every year brings us closer to making the dream a reality. The going is slow, and we sometimes despair that we will ever reach the day when justice walks every street and peace lives in every home. Sometimes we despair, but we continue to try, just as we try to live into our covenant, just as we try to be the people God calls us to be.
The good news is that God’s blessing is with us in our struggle.
We are blessed by the God who makes the sun to rise on the evil as well as on the good. We are blessed by the God who sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. We are blessed by the God who knows the secrets of our hearts. We are blessed by the God who knows the evil and the good and the righteous and the unrighteous—in each of our hearts and in the world. We are blessed by the God who loves us—who yearns and longs for us. We are blessed by the God whose deepest desire is that we show that love to all the world. We are blessed by the God who makes the impossible happen in every day of our lives.
Thanks be to God.