Israelites in Jesus’ day took the law
very seriously, and by law I mean the Torah, God’s law. In a commentary on the Torah known as the
Mishna, Rabban Gamaliel II, who led the Sanhedrin after the fall of the Temple
in 70 AD, is quoted as saying:
“The more flesh, the more worms;
the more wealth, the more worry;
the more women, the more witchcraft;
the more maids, the more lust;
the more servants, the more larceny.
But the more Torah, the more life;
the more sessions, the more wisdom;
the more counsel, the more understanding;
the more righteousness, the more peace.”
the more wealth, the more worry;
the more women, the more witchcraft;
the more maids, the more lust;
the more servants, the more larceny.
But the more Torah, the more life;
the more sessions, the more wisdom;
the more counsel, the more understanding;
the more righteousness, the more peace.”
We read the great 19th Psalm
on the first Sunday in October:
The law of the Lord is perfect
and revives the soul; *
the testimony of the Lord is sure
and gives wisdom to the innocent.
The statutes of the Lord are just
and rejoice the heart; *
the commandment of the Lord is clear
and gives light to the eyes.
The fear of the Lord is clean
and endures for ever; *
the judgments of the Lord are true
and righteous altogether.
More to be desired are they than gold,
more than much fine gold, *
sweeter far than honey,
than honey in the comb.
By them also is your servant enlightened, *
and in keeping them there is great reward.
Some in the
Christian tradition revere studying the bible with affection similar to the
Jews’ passion for Torah, but we Episcopalians don’t have anything in our practice
that comes close to their devotion. If
you have ever known a baseball fanatic who has memorized all the statistics and
records of every player living, retired, and dead and heard that person get
into a discussion - neigh argument – with other people of similar knowledge then
you have an image of the centrality of Torah in the life of the Jews. It was everything, life itself. And just like baseball stats, the Torah has a
lot of minutia. For every homerun
record, Torah is riddled with the equivalent of what left-handed, red-headed pitchers
are likely to throw in a day game on a Tuesday when the count is 3-2 in the
first inning.
Throughout his
public ministry, people came to Jesus and asked him to comment on different
aspects of the Torah. On two separate
occasions Jesus was asked to identify the single most important commandment in all
Torah. A young seeker poses the question
in the 12th chapter of Mark’s gospel. Jesus answers him by saying,
“You shall love
the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. And you shall love your neighbor as
yourself.”
The seeker,
hoping for more elaboration, then asks Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus responds by telling the parable of the
Good Samaritan; one of the greatest teachings in the history of civilization.
Today’s assigned
reading from Matthew recounts the other time Jesus is asked this question. This time, it is not a seeker who queries him,
but rather a person hoping to trap him in some form or fashion so that charges
might be pressed. Jesus’ answer is the
same, but rather than follow it up with a parable, he asks a Torah question of
his own. It is obscure and technical and
impossible to answer and as a result the verbal challenges come to an end.
Out of this tense encounter we have confirmed for us the
core of the Christian faith: Love God and love your neighbor. The problem for us no longer is finding the
right answer. The problem is living it. Frederick Buechner sums it up pretty
effectively:
The difficulty is increased when you realize that by loving
God and your neighbors, Jesus doesn’t mean loving as primarily a feeling. Instead, he seems to mean that whether or not
any feeling is involved, loving God means honoring and obeying and staying in
constant touch with God, and loving your neighbors means acting in their best
interests no matter what, even if personally you can’t stand them.
Love
is not primarily a feeling. It is a
disposition of the will that results in actions either directed upward toward
God or outward toward others. Think
about Paul’s great treatise on love written to the Christian church in Corinth:
Love
is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not
irritable or resentful; it
does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all
things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Note two things about this passage. First, it never once hints that love is a
feeling. And second, remember that this was
not written to a couple getting married in a romantic setting, rather it was
written to a church caught up in the throes of personality conflicts. To believers who are at each other’s throats,
Paul says you must be patient, kind, not rude or boastful or irritable, nor are
you to insist on getting your way. You
must endure and believe and hope and bear all things. This is to be the way love is manifested in
your conflicted community.
In reflecting on today’s reading, the theologian Marcus Borg
says that being a Christian is about loving God and loving what God loves. And what does God love, he asks? Well, the best-known verse in the bible, John
3:16, says, “God so loved the world that he sent his only son.” God loves the whole world and wants it to be
a better place. The problem, Borg says,
is that our human inclination is to love ourselves first and foremost. Therefore, he says, we need to be transformed
from who we are naturally into who God calls us to be.
For Episcopalians, the sign of our desire for transformation is
baptism. In it, we turn from Satan, the
evils of this world, and a focus on self alone in order to embrace Jesus as our
savior, our Lord, and our guide. Through
it we pray to be open to God’s grace and truth, filled with the holy and
life-giving Spirit, and taught to love others through the Spirit’s power. Our old selves symbolically drown in the
baptismal waters and we rise reborn in the image of Christ. It is not a one-time experience that fixes us
once and for all, but rather a sign of our on-going desire to be transformed
into a person who loves God and who loves others.
It is a rigorous process, but we are sustained in it by regular
participation in Eucharist. The weekly
pattern of praise and thanksgiving, of confession, pardon, and renewal, and of
participating in the life of Christ through receiving his body and blood feeds
and fuels our heart, soul, and mind in this transformation process.
It has been said of the Anglican way that we are about majoring in the
majors and minoring in the minors. By
this we mean that we will focus on what is absolutely essential to the practice
of the faith while being quite open and tolerant regarding the manifestation
(or lack there of) of the non-essentials.
This morning we hear again what is most central to the Christian faith:
love God and love your neighbor. Major
in this and the rest will take of itself.