Love and forgiveness is the only choice.

You may have noticed a frequent petitionary prayer in our liturgies these last few weeks.  It’s a prayer related to our election year conversations. Last week we prayed: Dear Jesus, in these days of division, help us to be unifiers in your love. Give us grace to control our anger, that we may never be insulting or rude to one another, and that we never write one another off.  The week before it was: Dear Jesus, help us to be the light of unity in our divided nation. Remind us that we are meant to look upon one another as sisters and brothers, and to fight against the forces that separate us into political camps and ideologies. There were similar prayers going back to January, the beginning of 2020. 

In the last few months, and probably for a lot longer than that, I suspect that everyone here has been involved in conversations about the president and his opponents, whether it be with people of like mind, or people who disagree with your opinions. On both sides, the words and feelings can be very strong and angry and uncompromising.  We all know people who have written off friends and even family members, and we may have even done the same ourselves. And sometimes all we wind up with is being alone.

Let me just say that I am not immune.  I studied political science and philosophy as a major in college, and for a number of years I considered a career as a lawyer working in the public arena.  I believe that one of the foremost goals of education in a democracy is to groom women and men to be responsible, participatory citizens. We should care about how our nation is governed, and we should exercise our voice in the process.

But besides being a citizen, I am first and foremost a follower of Jesus, the Christ.  My identity as a Christian trumps everything else, as it must.  I am also aware that our faith in Jesus can and has at times been coopted and used as ammunition to support our ideologies—political or religious.  I do not believe this is of Jesus, or of God.  I think it is important to deeply consider the four ringing commands in today’s Gospel that Jesus issues at the end of the Sermon on the Mount: Love your enemies; Do good to those who hate you; Bless those who curse you; Pray for those who mistreat you. He also says “Be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

Whenever I hear this Gospel, I think of Dylan Roof.  Remember him?  Three years ago this 22 year old walked into a bible class of an historic African-American church, listened for a few minutes to the conversation about the love of Jesus and then pulled a gun from his fanny pack and murdered 9 parishoners. He shouted, "I have to do it. You rape our women and you're taking over our country. And you have to go." Remarkably, the day after the shooting, a mother and daughter, a sister and grandson ---relatives of his victims-- spoke out and publicly forgave the murderer. And a year and a half later at his trial, others did the same. “I forgive you, and pray that God have mercy on you,” said one of them. And despite those words of forgiveness and mercy, Dylan Roof said at his sentencing: "I would like to make it crystal clear, I do not regret what I did. I am not sorry. I have not shed a tear for the innocent people I killed." I can’t forget the image of that young man as he said those words. I have never seen an image of a human being more alone than him, which is for me the ultimate expression of hell.

To be honest, if my mother or brother or sister or friend had been one of those victims and I was sitting in that courtroom, I’m sure I would have wanted to leap over the aisle and taken that kid down, mercy and forgiveness be damned. Revenge is what I would seek. And that’s precisely why after three years I have not been able to shake away my thoughts about this case.

I’ve never had to face such a terrible loss from such a hate-filled person. But I know what the feeling of revenge feels like because I’ve been hurt a bunch of times by complete strangers, by so-called friends, collaborators, co-workers, even fellow priests.  I know, I know how it feels to want to strike back, let them feel what they have done to me.  At times I’ve allowed myself to consider ways that I could hurt them back---in words or deeds.  An eye for an eye, right?  And these days it is so easy to strike back without physical weapons: why there’s facebook, snapchat, tumbler, instagram, twitter---so many ways to get social media revenge on the internet. You can spread the damage pretty quickly and deeply with a few choice stories or damning words. 

 But of course, there is this: "But I say to you, offer no resistance to one who is evil. When someone strikes you on your right cheek, turn the other one as well. If anyone wants to go to law with you over your tunic, hand over your cloak as well. Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go for two miles. Give to the one who asks of you, and do not turn your back on one who wants to borrow.” 

In Jesus’ day, if you were wronged by someone, you had to right to seek revenge by slapping them back-handed on the face.  Jesus says, let him slap both sides of the face.  In Jesus’s day, if you were wronged by someone, you were allowed to seek revenge by taking the cloak that served as their coat and their sleeping bag. Jesus says, go naked and give him the shirt off your back as well. In Jesus’ day, it was legal for a soldier of the occupying army to seek revenge by forcing a civilian to carry his heavy baggage for a mile. Jesus says, carry it for two miles.

Because for Jesus, it was never about revenge. It was always about forgiveness because it was always about love. You love the one who brutalizes you, who tortures you, who defames you, who has no mercy for you---because love and only love can truly transform a human heart. And if you want to follow Jesus, if you want to call yourself a Christian—one of Christ’s---then, my friend, you actually have no choice. Your life is always about love—real love for every human being that God has created. 

But isn’t that ridiculous? Love that…that… thing, Dylan Roof? Love the girl who dumped me?  Love my unfaithful husband or wife? 

Love my daughter/son/brother/sister/parent/friend who hasn’t spoken to me in months, who has chosen money over family, who has betrayed me so many times?  Love my co-worker who stabbed me in the back, love my neighbor who has been so nasty for years, love the thieves who stole my wallet or my pension, love those hateful Democrats, those hateful Republicans, love the rapist, the pedophile, the torturer, love the terrorists who murder innocent victims at Ground Zero, in Boston, in Paris, in Baghdad?  I mean, come on, really, Jesus?    Are we really meant to be doormats for evil people, should we just rollover and let them have their way?  That’s just stupid.

Well yes, it is.  But love is that important, and love is that powerful.  And that’s why following Jesus is dangerous and totally foolish.  Listen to St Paul: “If anyone among you considers himself wise in this age, let him become a fool, so as to become wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in the eyes of God”. 

There are so many great examples of people who followed Jesus’ words:  Mahatma Gandhi, who had stirred up the passions of his Indian brothers and sisters at the injustice of the British, realized that an eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind, and he stopped eating to prevent the revenge he had started.  Nelson Mandela recognized that the only way his nation would ever become one after the horror of apartheid was to embrace the enemy—even those who imprisoned him for 30 years.  Pope John Paul went to the cell of his assassin and forgave him for shooting him on the square of St Peter’s. 

Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you; bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat you. Do not go on Twitter, or Facebook or Instagram with rude, insulting, hate-filled condemnations, do not write off your family members or your friends with whom you disagree. How do you love as foolishly as that, like God, how do you love like God, and not like us? Well it goes back to this question:  Are you first and foremost a follower of Jesus, the Christ?  Does your identity as a Christian trump everything else? 

"Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect," says Jesus. The lesson is hanging up there on the cross. To love like Jesus loved, with your arms wide open to everyone who comes your way, even the bullies—especially the bullies. But the problem is, it’s not cost-free, it’s a sure thing you'll get hurt. It comes with the territory. So why do it? Why be so foolish? Who wants to get hurt? And the answer is… who wants to be alone?

The survivors of Dylan Roof’s massacre explained that “love and forgiveness is a choice.” It is the choice that Jesus commands. Lover and forgiveness is the only choice. Love is a powerful thing, and perfect love is universe shattering, earsplitting, eye blinding, mindblowing, heart-making, and like the love of Jesus, it always brings us together, and that, in the end, is what we all really want.

To be together, and not alone.