February 23, 2014 | 8:00, 9:30, and 11:00 a.m.

Going the Second Mile

Calum I. MacLeod
Executive Associate Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Psalm 119:33–40
Leviticus 19:9–18
Matthew 5:38–48

“Go also the second mile.”
Matthew 5:41 (NRSV)

Goodness is stronger than evil;
love is stronger than hate;
light is stronger than darkness;
life is stronger than death;
victory is ours through him who loves us.

Desmond Tutu

As I’m sure you can imagine, I spent part of this week clearing out my office. I’m sure many of you have done that in the past, moving off to new pastures. It’s kind of scary the clutter that sixteen-and-a-half years of accumulation means in your files and in the office. It’s also kind of fun and a bit of a walk down memory lane finding old photo albums of mission trips to Honduras and Guatemala and Ghana, even an envelope with photos of my arrival here in Chicago.

It was actually a photo of me walking into the arrival hall at Terminal 5 at O’Hare with two bags and $500 in my pocket. That was it. That’s what I arrived with. It’s scary to think I actually did that. I was welcomed by Nancy Enderle, who was then head of staff. John Buchanan was just completing his service as Moderator at that time, so Nancy was there as was my colleague Carol Allerton, who is still on staff, along with Melinda, who was to be my assistant, and I remember that day just like it was yesterday when I got here to Fourth Church.

I was to be living in the Manse for that first part of my time here. So I went to the Manse, had a shower, and then put on my suit. There was a stewardship dinner that evening for the congregation, and so there were—I don’t know—250–300 people in Anderson Hall for dinner, and John Buchanan introduced me as the newest member of staff, the youth ministry intern or whatever my title was (we kept making things up, I think).

I was introduced and asked to speak to the congregation who were gathered, so I did. I celebrated what had just happened that week, which was that Europe beat the U.S. in the Ryder Cup for the first time in years and years, but I don’t think pointing that out really harmed me, because I think that probably no one in that group understood a word that I said that night! It was compounded that Sunday when I was introduced to the children of the church. I have a heart for children and youth and ministry—I had done that at St. Columba’s in London—and so I was invited to give the children’s address at Children’s Chapel. As I like to, I wanted to engage the children, so I asked a question, after which there was this deadly hush until one young boy sitting in the front row turned to his Sunday school teacher and said, in a loud voice, “Is he speaking Spanish?” That’s a true story.

So what’s a preacher to do on the last Sunday when I’m among you, dear friends in Christ? Well, what you do is you go to your lectionary and you look up the passage that is chosen for this Sunday in the year and you share that with the community. And what’s the word from Jesus for our community on this day? “If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other cheek. If someone asks for your inner garment, your coat, give them your outer garment, your cloak, as well. If someone who is in authority over you—a soldier of the empire—forces you to carry a pack and go for a mile, you go the second mile. Don’t refuse anyone. Love your enemies. Be perfect.”

These are not easy words, easy commands, for us to hear. Remember that Jesus is speaking here in the context of the Sermon on the Mount. He has gone up onto the mountain in order to teach. Scholars remind us that in doing this, Jesus is mirroring Moses’ receiving the law on Mount Sinai. Since we’re in the realm here of commandment and the laws, we heard the law from the Book of Leviticus, the laws surrounding the care of those most marginal in the society, those most hurt by economic injustice. And yet we know from Jesus’ teaching that there is danger when we think of law. There is a danger that we simply believe that our role is to follow a set of commandments and laws.

There’s a warning to us that comes from a story from the Muslim tradition about a man called Nasrudden. Nasrudden found a diamond by the roadside, but according to the law, finders became keepers only if they first announced their find in the center of the marketplace on three separate occasions. Now Nasrudden was too religious-minded to disregard the law but too greedy to run the risk of parting with his valuable find. So on three consecutive nights, when he was sure that everyone was fast asleep, he went to the center of the marketplace and there announced, in a soft voice, “I have found a diamond on the road that leads to the town. Anyone knowing who the owner is should contact me at once.” No one, of course, was the wiser for his words, except for one man who happened to be standing at his window on the third night and heard Nasrudden mumble some words. When he attempted to find out what it was, Nasrudden replied, “I’m in no way obliged to tell you, but this much I shall say, being a religious man, I went out there at night to pronounce certain words in fulfillment of the law.” He had fulfilled what the law had required.

Sister Joan Chittister, contemporary writer and nun, writes that she understood one day that to be properly wicked you do not have to break the law, just observe it to the letter. And this is where Jesus is taking us in the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus is saying, you have heard, you know, what the law is, but I say to you—and then stretches the disciples, stretches us, in our understanding of how we should live and who we should be. And while Jesus’ words seem hard, maybe seem impossible, we know of situations in which these words have inspired people to live their lives out of love and justice.

One of the books that has had most influence on my life is a slim volume of Martin Luther King Jr.’s sermons called Strength to Love. I got that book when I was probably fourteen, and it opened up to me a new way of understanding Christianity and Christian faith. In 1958 Martin Luther King Jr. wrote about the emergence of the civil rights movement in the South, civil rights for African Americans, or as King wrote in 1958, for Negroes: “From the beginning, a basic philosophy guided the civil rights movement. This guiding principle has since been referred to variously as nonviolent resistance, non-cooperation, and passive resistance. But in the first days of the protest, none of these expressions was mentioned. The phrase most often heard was Christian love. It was the Sermon on the Mount,” writes King, “that initially inspired the Negroes of Montgomery to dignified social action. It was Jesus of Nazareth that stirred the Negroes to protest with the creative weapon of love.” Isn’t that a beautiful, eloquent phrase, the creative weapon of love? And that’s at the heart of these commands in the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus is not calling us to some silly understanding of meekness or being someone who’s trampled all over. Rather it is a challenge not to engage in a downward spiral of violence against one who perpetrates violence. It’s about love.

Henri Nouwen was a Dutch priest, a major twentieth-century writer of spirituality. He spent some of his time living in a Christian community in which able-bodied people lived together with disabled people, a place called L’Arche Community in Europe, founded by a Frenchman, Jean Vanier. Nouwen speaks about his initial discomfort in this context. He himself was paired up with a young man by the name of Adam. Adam was unable to speak, suffered from cerebral palsy, couldn’t clean himself or dress, and so Henri Nouwen’s role was to feed and dress and care for Adam. He writes about how in time, as he says, “I learned to realize that this poor broken man was the place where God was speaking to me in a whole new way. Gradually I discovered real affection in myself, and I thought that Adam and I belonged together. Adam taught me a lot about God’s love in a very concrete way.”

God is calling us into places that may not be comfortable, that may stretch us spiritually, but is always calling us to love, to challenge the systems that cause brokenness and death.

A great teacher of the church and friend of Fourth Church, Walter Brueggemann writes about what it is to be the beloved community, the children of God called by Christ and equipped through the Holy Spirit. Brueggemann says that “what has been entrusted to us—to you and me—is the news that the death systems of the world lack staying power and authority and do not merit our loyalty.” He says they disappear after two days; death on Friday, resurrection on Sunday. They disappear after two days, driven by the power of new life invested in the body of the risen Christ. Friday is when the death system thinks it has victory, when the way of the world, the downward spiral, thinks it’s in charge, but always, always, Sunday is coming.

Leith Fisher was a Church of Scotland minister. I knew him somewhat. He was a great hymn writer, liturgist, and thinker. He wrote a commentary on Matthew’s Gospel, and when it comes to these words that we shared in this text, Leith writes, “Let’s hear these words as an invitation to sit and learn at a strange, wonderful, and inspiring new school of love.”

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ at Fourth Church, that is my charge to you, as I leave, as you begin a new adventure next Sunday with the calling of a new pastor. As you begin that relationship with that person—listening them, loving them into their ministry here—live into that role of the strange, wonderful, and inspiring school of love. Because in that we know the truth of Desmond Tutu’s great proclamation that,

Goodness is stronger than evil;
love is stronger than hate;
light is stronger than darkness;
life is stronger than death;
victory is ours through him who loves us.

Thanks be to God. Amen.