This
past week as I was reading, rereading, and thinking about the scriptures for
this Sunday, I said, “Note to self: Next time you agree to start a new ministry
somewhere, remember to start some other time of year.” It really has nothing to
do with moving in the middle of winter (well, not much anyway), or avoiding icy
roads to get places, or trying to figure our just how many layers I can wear
without looking like a stuffed rabbit. Or even how many times I have to unpack
and pack. It has much more to do with what the scriptures tell us in these weeks
leading up to Lent.
The Gospel readings for this
time of year make me wonder why anyone would want to be a Christian. If I were
going to design an advertising campaign for the church it certainly wouldn’t
include anything like this:
· If anyone smacks you on the right cheek, don’t
let him have it, let him have the other cheek.
· If anyone sues you for your coat, give ‘em your
cloak too.
· If anyone forces you to go one mile, keep going
for another mile.
· Love your enemies.
· And those who persecute you? Pray for ‘em.
As if that’s not enough,
“Don’t expect special treatment, God is going to send rain on you and your
enemies, not just your enemies. God is going to send sunshine on you and your
enemies, not just you.” Did I leave anything out? Oh yes, the final
discouraging words are, “Be as perfect as God.” Frankly, I wouldn’t blame you
if you knew what you were going to hear and decided to roll over in bed and
sleep in!
Most
of us, when we do show up and hear this stuff either hear it and say, “Yeah,
yeah, sure Jesus. But you do know
that’ll never work in the real world,
don’t you?” Or, if we’re perfectionists already, today’s Gospel gives us a nice
long list of things to agonize about, including the idea that we will never be
perfect.
But,
you know, agonizing over being perfect can end up being both self-absorbed and
self-centered. There is a time when we have to give up the agony and go do
something. Go do something, even if we fail miserably, spectacularly,
unbelievably. It means being brave because the things Jesus asks us to do, to
greet violence with non-violence, to give more than someone asks, to accompany
someone on not just the first mile but the second, to love people we consider
unlovable, and to pray for someone we consider undeserving of prayer, are all
risky business. They are risky because doing them means we will change. And
most of us have a lot of trouble imaging change as a blessing.
When
we do live out these hard things though, we are sharing with Jesus in what he
wants us to have and how he wants us to live. And we end up being blessed even
in our difficulty.
The
other good news I know about this perfection thing is this. God knows us well.
So well, in fact, that God knows that while we probably never will be perfect, God
sees and loves us for our struggles to get there. So here’s something even
better about this whole perfection thing, a different way of thinking about it.
The
Greek word here translated to perfection is a lot closer in meaning to
something that has become what it is intended to be; something that has reached
its goal, end, or purpose. How about this? Suppose this next week we think of
ourselves as becoming more fully what God intends us to be. And we imagine how
that might be a blessing to us even if it’s challenging to do.
Become who God intends you to
be. AMEN.
The Rev.
Nicolette Papanek
©February
2017
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