Tag: love your enemies

When Empire Meets Love

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year C1 Comment

Luke 19:1-10

I will forever be grateful for the way Shirley Paxton and Linda Burger graciously welcomed me into their homes. Even when they were not feeling their best, they opened their doors wide.  And instead of talking about their ailments, as I expected, Shirley and Linda only wanted to talk about me, how I was doing, how my family was doing. They were interested in the church and my role as the senior minister, but they seemed more interested in who I was as a human being, as a father, a husband, a son, and a brother.

 After my first visit with Linda, I will never forget her walking me outside with Ken to my Honda Civic, asking me how in the world I was able to fit into such a little car. It reminded me of my first visit with Shirley. During a barrage of personal questions about me and my family, how my wife and I were liking Lynchburg, she suddenly came out with: “Just how tall are you?”

“6-foot-four,” I replied.

“That’s funny,” she said, “I’m four-foot-six! Stand up and let me stand beside you.”

We stood up next to each other there in her living room and laughed and laughed.

Shirley Paxton and Linda Burger may not have been very tall, but they both had very large spirits, something Zacchaeus had to grow into. And that’s where we meet him today, small in stature, and smaller still in spirit.

Zacchaeus worked for Rome, the empire that taxed the poor to feed the rich, ruled by fear, and crucified anyone who dared to resist. And sometimes, it feels like that same spirit still stalks our streets today.

 Zacchaeus was a chief tax collector, which meant he didn’t just collect money for Rome, he personally profited off the suffering of his neighbors. Thus, when the people saw him, they didn’t see a neighbor. They saw a traitor. And maybe that’s exactly what he was.

However, the good news is, or should I say the challenging news for us living a country that seems full of traitors these days is: Jesus saw him differently, teaching us what can happen when empire meets love.

Luke tells us that Jesus was passing through Jericho, a city built on exploitation and one of Rome’s outposts of control. Jericho was a city where the wealthy lived behind high walls and widows begged outside the gates. And there, in a crowd of people, standing on his tiptoes, was Zacchaeus, who then climbed a tree to catch a glimpse of grace.

Have you ever wondered what made Zacchaeus climb that tree? Why he wanted to see this radical rabbi named Jesus, the one stirring up good trouble for the sake of love. Maybe he was just curious, wondering who this troublemaker was who was proclaiming good news to the ones he was oppressing, while at the same time proclaiming love for tax collectors like himself.

Maybe Zacchaeus was desperate. Maybe, deep down, Zacchaeus didn’t like working for the empire. Maybe he was tired of living off the backs of others, tired of being part of a system where he was asked to trade his soul for a paycheck.

When empire meets love, sometimes it begins with a just a glance, for someone to catch just a glimpse of truth.

And then comes the surprise! Jesus stops beneath that tree, looks up and calls Zacchaeus by name: “Zacchaeus, come down. For I must stay at your house today.”

Luke says, “he came down at once.” I don’t know if that means he climbed down in a hurry, or was so startled when he heard Jesus call his name and heard the urgency in his voice, that he fell out of that tree!

The scene is shocking in more ways than one. For Jesus looks up at the one everyone else looks down on. Jesus humanizes the one everyone else demonizes. And it is because of that, love is able to enter the house of empire.

And something happens when love enters your house and sits at your table. Something happens when you stop hiding behind the systems of the world and start listening to the Savior of the world. Something happens when grace moves in and refuses to leave you where it found you.

It’s too bad Luke doesn’t tell us what Jesus said to Zacchaeus. But we can be certain Jesus didn’t sit there in silence, not the way many of us will be tempted to do this Thanksgiving, when empire shows up at our tables dressed like politics or prejudice. Whatever Jesus said, it was enough for Zacchaeus to realize he had missed the whole point of living. That life is not about accumulation but restoration. That love, grace, mercy, and justice are not accessories to faith. They are the very heart of it.

At the table with Jesus, Zacchaeus doesn’t just say, “I’m sorry.” Zacchaeus flips the whole system on its head: “Half of my possessions I will give to the poor, and if I’ve cheated anyone, I’ll pay them back fourfold!”

On this stewardship commitment Sunday, it is important for us to understand that this is what faithful stewardship looks like. Now, I’m not talking about giving 400% instead of 10%. I am talking about stewardship being about more than keeping the lights on in the church. It’s about the church shining a light into the world. It’s about giving others an opportunity to catch a glimpse of grace and truth. It is the empire coming face to face with love.

Zacchaeus teaches us that it’s not just about giving from what we have. It’s about giving back what the empire has stolen. It’s not about charity. It’s about equity. It’s about making reparations. It is about doing justice in an unjust world.

Before meeting love, Zacchaeus was the face of injustice. He worked for a system designed to keep the poor in their place. The tax collector’s job was to remind people that Rome owns you, Rome rules you, and Rome can take from you whatever it wants.

And today, that same spirit still walks among us. It criminalizes poverty. It takes food from the hungry. It turns brown skin into suspicion. It raids restaurants and convenience stores. It tears children from their parents’ arms. It’s the spirit behind every deportation, every detention center, and any system that profits off fear.

The challenge of Zacchaeus’ story for us is that when Jesus met the face of this spirit in Zacchaeus, Jesus didn’t demonize him. He humanized him. Jesus didn’t shame him or scold him. He didn’t see a villain. He saw a child of God buried beneath the mask of empire.

Jesus then invited himself to Zacchaeus’ home, to meet Zacchaeus where he was, where he lives, to learn more about him as a human being, as a father, a husband, a son, and a brother. Jesus invited Zacchaeus to sit down with him at a table, to break bread, which allowed a revolutionary love to touch his soul and transform him.

If Jesus were walking our streets today, I wonder if he’d stop beneath the watchtower of a detention center and call out to an ICE officer: “Hey John, why don’t you come down from there. Come down and let’s sit together at a table where no one is illegal, and every child is safe.”

For that’s what radical welcome looks like. It’s not a polite kindness that leaves injustice unchallenged. It’s the fierce, unrelenting love that says even to the enemy: “You will not make me hate you. You are God’s beloved child, and I believe you were made for much more than this.”

The good news is I believe that invitation still echoes in our world today. Jesus is still calling: “Come down. Leave the systems of empire. Come sit at the table where the walls come down and the children are safe, where love doesn’t get deported and where grace has no borders.”

This is what we mean when we say, “Radical Welcome, Revolutionary Love.” Radical welcome isn’t polite hospitality behind closed doors. It’s repentance made visible in public. It’s empire being converted— one heart, one invitation, one table at a time.

When Zacchaeus welcomed Jesus, he didn’t just open his front door. He opened his wallet, his conscience, his life. He said, “Half my possessions I will give to the poor. And if I have defrauded anyone, I will pay back 400%.” That’s crazy!

When Zacchaeus changed, Jericho changed. When one house opens its doors to grace, the whole neighborhood begins to glow!

This is what happens when love gets inside a house built by empire. Everything gets rearranged. When love moves in, greed moves out. When grace shows up, fear packs its bags. When Jesus crosses your threshold, the entire house starts to look like heaven.

And church, this is what stewardship is all about. It’s not about fundraising. It’s not maintaining our building. It’s opening our house to the holy. It’s saying, “Lord, this table, this budget we are pledging to fund, this ministry, this community, it’s all yours. And we want you to do something crazy here, something world-changing here!”

Because that’s what happens when empire meets love.

When greed meets grace, chains start breaking.

When fear meets faith, walls start falling.

When apathy meets compassion, hearts start healing.

When a church decides to truly live like Jesus— salvation lights up the city.

Zacchaeus’ story isn’t just about one man’s salvation. It’s about us. It’s about what happens when we let Jesus interrupt our comfort, when we climb down from the systems that keep us safe, separate, and silent and we say, “Come on in, Lord. Our house, our hearts, are wide open.”

And when empire meets love, tables get longer.

When empire meets love, budgets start looking like moral documents.

When empire meets love, the hungry are fed, the unhoused are sheltered, and the sick receive healthcare.

When empire meets love, equity is practiced, kindness is extended, mercy is offered, and justice is done.

When empire meets love, saints like Shirley and Linda smile down from glory, because they see that the welcome they practiced still lives in us.

So today, as we dedicate our pledges, as we name our saints,
as we remember those who opened their homes and hearts, let’s promise to keep doing the same: to open our doors wide; to welcome without condition; to love while refusing to hate; and to give until it changes someone’s life.

Because love like that is still revolutionary.
Love like that still topples empires.
Love like that is still how salvation comes to this house—
to our house
to this church,

to this city,
to this world that God so loves.

So, church, let’s come down from our trees.
Let’s come down from the tree of fear and scarcity.
Let’s come down from the branches of comfort and silence.
Let’s come down and open the door, set a table and make room for love.

Because Jesus is calling our name, saying: “First Christian Church in Lynchburg, Virginia, I must stay at your house today!”

Amen.

We Need a Slap in the Face

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year CLeave a comment

Luke 6:27-38 NRSV

These words from Jesus are some of the most difficult words to preach in the entire Bible. They are so counter-cultural, so offensive, that we would rather ignore them.

But these are the words of Jesus, and these are some of his very first words. So, if we want to call ourselves Christian, we cannot ignore them.

So, to avoid offending too many people, losing too many congregants, and, frankly, to avoid getting fired, preachers have this special knack of using a little hermeneutical smoke and mirrors. We pull this off by talking less about what the passages are saying, and more about what they are not saying. It’s a technique that preachers employ to keep their congregants happy.

And sadly, and tragically, this is one of the main reasons that many churches today, and many so-called Christian people, act nothing like Jesus.

Here’s an example of how it is done:

“But if anyone strikes you on one cheek, turn the other also.”

Now, Jesus is not saying here that should be pushovers.

“Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you!”

Now, Jesus is not saying here that we should help those who are perfectly capable of helping themselves.

“Love your enemies.”

Now Jesus is not saying we have to like them!

See how that is done? Preachers get away with this all the time, and their congregations let them, because the preacher is saying the things they only wished Jesus said.

And then, to put the finishing touch on this chicanery, preachers quickly skip to the end of the passage and point out verse 36: “Be merciful, as your heavenly Father is merciful.”

It is then they say: “You see. None of us can be like God. Therefore, Jesus really does not expect us to do any of these things. He is just laying out some very high ideals—ideals that we can never live up to. Jesus is trying to reveal just how sinful and unworthy we are.

That’s when preachers leave these words of Jesus and go off on a tangent about grace and the need to accept Christ as our personal savior because none of us are like God, and we all fall short of the glory of God.

Now, I believe in grace. I need grace. I am by no means close to being a merciful as God, so grace is my friend. Grace is my hope. Grace is amazing. But here’s the problem with using grace as an excuse to not obey these counter-cultural commands of Jesus, and it is a huge problem— At the end of the sermon, Jesus (as if he knows we will try to use grace as some get-out-of-doing-what-I-say card) says, beginning with verse 46:

 Why do you call me “Lord, Lord”, and do not do what I tell you? I will show you what someone is like who comes to me, hears my words, and acts on them. That one is like a man building a house, who dug deeply and laid the foundation on rock; when a flood arose, the river burst against that house but could not shake it, because it had been well built. But the one who hears and does not act is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. When the river burst against it, immediately it fell, and great was the ruin of that house.’

So, what are we to do with these passages? When someone slaps us in the face, does Jesus really want us to turn and give them the other cheek to slap? And are we really supposed to give people the very shirts off our backs? Give to everyone who begs of us? Really?

No, this just can’t be. For it is directly opposed to almost every instinct we possess.

We read these words of Jesus, and many of us have a problem. Let’s face it. We have a big problem.

Now, are you ready for some good news?

Well, you are going to have to wait, because the bad news is still coming.

The truth is: these very difficult and offensive words of Jesus expose an even bigger problem for most of us. Think about it…

When was the last time that you have taken a stand against an evil, an injustice, stood up for someone who was being marginalized and scapegoated, and because of that stand, because you stood up and spoke out, the supporters of that evil, not only sent you a nasty email, defriended you on Facebook, personally confronted you, but became so offended they physically attacked you by slapping you in the face?

What I am asking is: when was the last time that we’ve even had an opportunity to turn the other cheek?

When was the last time someone who was very cold approached you, and knew you well enough to ask you to give them the very coat that you were wearing? When is the last time anyone has asked you to sacrifice warmth so they could be warm? When was the last time that you even had the opportunity to offer someone in need the shirt off your back?

When was the last time that someone in great need came to you and begged for you to help them? I am not talking about the person you see holding a sign at an intersection, “Help. Homeless Vet.”  I am talking about someone whose name you knew, someone who knew your name, someone who felt like they could trust you, someone coming to you personally, swallowing their pride, and asking you for help?

Jesus says we are to love our enemies, but when was the last time that we’ve made an enemy? After all, isn’t confrontation something we all like to avoid? Isn’t it better, especially in this day and time, to mind our own business, keep our thoughts to ourselves, especially when it is about religion or politics?

Our problem is not that we are unwilling to turn the other cheek. Our problem is that we are so private, so unconcerned about anyone other than ourselves, that we never get off our blessed assurances to cause any confrontations.

Our problem is not that we are unwilling to give someone the shirt off our back. Our problem is that we are never around anyone who needs our coat.

Our problem is not that we are unwilling to give to the needy who personally approach us and beg of us. Our problem is that we do not personally know anyone in need.

Our problem is not that we are unwilling to love our enemies. Our problem is that most of us have never created any. We are so afraid of anything that might cause us a little discomfort, we never put ourselves out there to make any enemies.

And if we ever become bold enough to speak out, to take up for another or some gospel principle, if we know we have offended another, we usually go out of our way to always avoid that other. If we turn to go down an aisle at Kroger and see them, we will quickly turn and go to the opposite end of the store. Or we might leave and finish our shopping at Food Lion.

And because we stay away from those we have offended, because we keep our enemies at such a safe distance, we are simply nowhere close enough to them to even think about loving them.

You’ve heard the wisdom of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.

The late Presbyterian author and preacher Frederick Buechner spoke of this wisdom:

If your enemies are close—

You see the lines in their faces and the way they walk when they’re tired. You see who their husbands and wives are, maybe.

You see where they’re vulnerable. You see where they’re scared.

 Seeing what is hateful about them, you may catch a glimpse also of where the hatefulness comes from.

Seeing the hurt they cause you, you may see also the hurt they cause themselves.

You’re still light-years away from loving them, to be sure, but at least you see how they are human even as you are human, and that is at least a step in the right direction.

It’s possible that you may even get to where you can pray for them a little, if only that God forgive them because you yourself can’t, but any prayer for them at all is a major breakthrough.

I believe Jesus is urging us to come close enough to others that we will truly be able to see them as beloved children of God, that tere is no “us” and “them.” There is only “us” as the Most High is kind to the ungrateful and to the wicked.

Now, here is the good news:

The good news is: You are here! You have put yourself out there! You are not so self-absorbed and selfish that you stayed home this morning. Your self-concern has not crowded out your moral concern.

The good news is: You are here, and together, as a church, we are going to go places where we will encounter people who are in such need that they may ask for our coats. And we will have opportunities to sacrificially offer them our shirts. We will get to know people who are so desperate that they may beg of us. And we will have opportunities to selflessly give.

Together, we will speak up, speak out, and stand firm for the gospel of Jesus Christ, for the prophetic justice he taught, and for the unconditional love for all people he modeled.

And yes, because this way of Jesus is socially unacceptable today in our country and in our city, we are certain to make some enemies. Like churches all over this country who are boldly standing up and speaking out, our property may be vandalized. Our flag will continue to be stolen. We are apt to stir up so much anger in some people that they will not only de-friend us on Facebook, send us ugly emails, but they may want to slap us in the face!

But together, because it is impossible to do it alone, together, as part of the household of God, we will not ignore them. Nor will we run and hide from them. We are having a discussion in our fellowship hall this Wednesday night to learn to have conversations with them. And we are having a workshop next month with Father John Dear to learn how to resist them nonviolently. We will learn together how to turn other cheek. We will learn together how to pray for them and how to love them. We will learn what actions we can take to make this world more peaceful, just, and equitable.

And no, we will never be as merciful as God, far from it. But we are going to do all we can do to stand up for mercy and to plead for mercy whenever poor people are called parasites, immigrants are scapegoated and transgendered and non-binary people are erased. We will stand together and stand up to the wicked in power who, full of lies, greed and hate, enrich themselves while trampling the poor, and then, we will at least be on our way, prayerfully, lovingly doing what we can, where we can, to become like the wise one who built a house on rock. And when the rains fall, the floods come, and the winds blow and beat on our house, it will not fall. Amen.