Bradley Fielding

Bradley Fielding 1st Corinthians 3:1-9 Matthew 5: 21-37 February 12, 2017

In the past several years, I’ve had to learn many linguistic rules as part of my training as a classical singer. It’s often my job to know the textbook right way to pronounce any given word. My friend David has discovered this, that I know a lot about American pronunciation rules, and he often comes to me with questions. He becomes self-conscious and worried about the way he says something, and he asks “Bradley, am I doing this right?” I always laugh because he sounds fine. I have to remind him of a lesson I’ve learned along the way, that there’s a bigger picture in the way we use our language. It can be so pedantic to worry about every single grammatical rule, when the whole purpose of language is to enable us to communicate effectively with one another. There’s a larger goal, a bigger picture, and all of the rules merely exist in service to that larger goal.

When we look at today’s gospel reading, it’s so easy to focus on those specifics, the laws, the rules, the textbook, what is right and what is wrong. And it’s easy to read just the surface because it’s simple, it’s quotable, and we like to think in black and white. “If you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment” “Whoever divorces his wife, except on grounds of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery” “Do not swear at all” “If your right hand causes you to sin, tear it off and throw it away” These are oddly specific and extreme, and I hope that by looking at this passage in context, we can reframe these seemingly unrelated rules and find some deeper meaning in them. What’s the bigger picture? What’s the endgame here?

These past few weeks, we’ve been reading straight through the fifth chapter of Matthew, the beginning of Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount. Two weeks ago, you heard the Beatitudes. Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, Blessed are those who mourn, Blessed are the meek, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers” And last week you heard Bethany preaching on the next passage in chapter 5, in which Jesus says “You are the salt of the Earth,” “You are the light of the world.” And, very importantly, he says “I have not come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it.

In each section of today’s passage, Jesus quotes a Hebrew law — You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not swear falsely — And he becomes very critical. He challenges our understanding of the law and gives us even deeper commandments that are more difficult to follow, as if the original rules are not enough.

Why would he do this? Why these laws, and why this law-focus at all? Is this not the same Jesus who comes to Earth as a helpless baby, who dies for our sins, who is the God of mercy and wisdom, who eats with sinners and tax collectors, prostitutes, and lepers? Is this not the God of grace and forgiveness, the God of boundless love? Today’s text is admittedly difficult and 2 controversial because of its apparent extremism. It’s also difficult because we don’t like to see Jesus reprimanding us so harshly. How can Jesus be so rigid, so unyielding, so unmerciful?

I think some of his harshness stems from very human frustration that people are turning away from important Hebrew laws. But Jesus also reprimands the people because they fundamentally miss the point. Like my friend David (and often like me), they do not see the larger calling behind those basic Hebrew laws.

In our reading today from the third chapter of First Corinthians, Paul is admonishing the people of Corinth because they, too, squabble over details and minutiae. In fact, they’re bickering about who’s in charge, who’s the most important, from whom do we derive our identity. “I belong to Paul,” they say. “I belong to Apollos.” “I go to Northwestern, I’m in the best program, the best internship, the best position.”

And Paul says, “Are you not merely human beings?” These other institutions may have planted a seed, maybe even watered, but God gave the growth. Paul reminds us that we are infants in Christ, God’s little children who owe our entire lives to his love and support and sustenance. Paul reminds us of a God who says, “I raised you, I nurtured you, nursed you, fed you, gave you milk before you were even ready for solid food. And you’re still not ready.”

This is not a harsh or condescending God. This is God the father, God the parent. This is Jesus, our brother who speaks out of love and concern. “Why?” he says, “Why do you turn away from God and treat each other so badly?” When Jesus speaks about the law and berates us for our actions, his anger comes from a place of deep compassion and understanding and caring. He speaks out of concern for his people. Just as Paul does in his letter to the Corinthians, Jesus reminds us who we are and whose we are. We are God’s children, and he loves us, and he expects us to love each other. There’s a parental expectation there, and it is as a parent that Jesus says “I have come to uphold rather than abolish the law.”

God’s law, at its simplest, says to love the Lord your God with all your heart, and all your soul, and all your strength, and all your mind. And love your neighbor as yourself. That love command is first. This is your bigger picture, your endgame. And we’re so wrapped up in the specifics of the rules that we cannot see the bigger picture, we can’t see why the rules exist in the first place. This goes beyond murder, beyond adultery, beyond divorce, beyond oaths and swearing.

Now, these laws are important. They are powerful and ancient laws that teach us to mend our broken relationship with God. But in every instance, Jesus deepens the law, pushes us further in it and in our understanding of it. He contextualizes and focuses it.

Of course we shouldn’t murder people. But the murder commandment is fundamentally about doing harm to your neighbor. Jesus extends the commandment further and says it would be wrong to worship together without first making peace over even our simplest squabbles. This is not to discourage worship, but to encourage healthy relationships with our brothers and sisters in Christ. 3

Of course we should treat our spouses faithfully, and of course our marriages should not end in divorce. But Jesus, in a time when men can divorce their wives for any old thing, Jesus knows that men will abuse their power to divorce, and Jesus extends these laws on adultery and divorce by stressing that our relationships with our spouses are sacred. And he reminds us that we are to treat women as people, as sisters in Christ, not as seductresses to be avoided objects to be disposed of.

Of course we shouldn't make oaths and promises we can't keep. But again, Jesus pushes the law further. Any earthly promise, because it puts our own intentions above God's intentions, jeopardizes our relationship with God. Jesus reminds us that our promises are vain because God has all the power. Isn't it remarkable that for Jesus, the law runs so deep that he is concerned even with our linguistic habits (the things we say and the promises we make)?

All of these laws promote love of God and neighbor in our everyday lives.

In her book *Outlaw Christian*, Author Jacqueline Bussie has this to say about the laws we choose to follow: (read from *Outlaw Christian,* p. 129-130, quote about the laws we consider unimportant)

The people are self-obsessed; they follow the easy rules and think themselves so great ("I didn't murder anyone; therefore I'm a good person"). Jesus is telling us in today's Gospel passage that we are not as righteous as we think we are. These laws should fundamentally influence our everyday actions and our everyday relationships, and this is where we struggle and fail. There's more to being a Christian than following the rules for the sake of being right. Jesus calls us to a deeper, more intentional way of living in our most basic thoughts and actions.

This is a huge commitment. Of course it is. And God's people prove again and again that we always fail in our commitments to God and each other. But these same people who need the law, who fall short again and again, and who are never enough, are to be salt and light in the world. We are baptized children of God, and in our baptism comes a vocation that is a call to a new way of life. Not because those are the rules, not because following them makes us right, not even because it is right, but because we are baptized children of God.

To whom do you really belong? Paul? Apollos? Northwestern? Deanna? As Paul reminds, we may plant seeds, but God makes everything grow. And that same God calls us to treat each other better. If we don’t follow that call, if we pretend that we can just wallow in our own self-righteousness, we’re left with nothing but a meaningless promise of cheap grace.

In a climate of hatred and exclusion, our relationships with God and neighbor still matter. Our call today is just as deep as it was two thousand years ago. God's people may not be the rule- followers we think we are, and we may not even understand the laws as they're given to us. But we can take a good look at our lives and reprioritize our relationships. We can listen to God, who gives color to the very hairs on our heads, and with his help and guidance we may learn to heal our broken relationships with each other and with the world.