Angry?

²¹“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ ²²But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire. ²³So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, ²⁴leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. ²⁵Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. ²⁶Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny. ²⁷“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ ²⁸But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. ²⁹If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. ³⁰And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell. ³¹“It was also said, ‘Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.’ ³²But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.³³“Again, you have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.’ ³⁴But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, ³⁵or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. ³⁶And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. ³⁷Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No’; anything more than this comes from the evil one.

Matthew 5:21-37

“Angry?”

It seems odd to me, that after our lectionary passage from last week, ours this week is about grievance and anger, about sin, about the ways we hurt each other, about the brokenness of humanity in the world. If you weren’t with us in worship last week, or even if you were and need a little reminder, we heard these lovely words of challenge, words of hope, words from Jesus in his sermon on the mount: “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to God in heaven.”

I’m not sure about you, but these words from Christ sound so much more like they’re meant for the end of a sermon, like they’re meant as a charge for the benediction. They’re beautiful and challenging words, hopeful words that prompt us to act in the world—the “go from this place and love and serve in the world” words. But Jesus, wise as he is, doesn’t end his great sermon there—instead he talks about the humanity of the world, the brokenness and sin of the world—anger, divorce, adultery, vengeance. Kind of makes your head spin to go from being the salt of the earth and keeping our lamps out for everyone to see to hearing about the ways we hurt each other and keep each other from being whole. But Jesus knows so much about us, before we can ever know it for ourselves. He challenges us to be salt and light in the world, but he knows the reality—that he is sending us into a world where people are hurtful to each other, where relationships are imperfect, where brokenness is evident everywhere we turn. And even as he charges us, he knows that we ourselves are participants in that world.

Jesus helps us with reality here. There is a lot to deal with in our lectionary passage from Matthew today, almost too much to think about and process at once. For a couple of reasons, I really want to focus on the first part of the passage today—1. While I think adultery and divorce are very serious and real problems in our world today, very much part of our brokenness, very much the result of our anger, I think we could take time on each of these topics in its own sermon. 2. I think we need to think about the brokenness that comes with anger—about its pervasiveness in our world today, about how much worse anger seems to have gotten in our world, about how angry we get and our seeming inability to be able to deal with it.

What is the deal with our anger? Why is it that we are so angry these days? We live in a world where two men, both wanting to take some Sabbath time to watch a movie, get angry at each other because one is texting during the previews. The other man gets angry at him for texting, begins to yell at him, and the one who has been texting throws popcorn at him. While it’s not the most mature response, the other man takes out a gun and shoots him. Kills him. Takes him away from his wife and family, from the world. All of this over a stupid text message. We live in a world where people anonymously attack others on social media or in the comments section of articles online, using their words as weapons and never giving a second thought to it. Don’t know if you’ve ever stopped to read the sections comments of an article, but don’t do it. Just don’t. We live in a world where our very own elected representatives insult each other, some even cussing each other out instead of reaching across the aisle to compromise, either forgetting or worse, not caring that our children are watching them and learning from their modeling. We live in a world where fans of football teams belittle 18-year-old kids when they choose to go and play for their hated rival. We live in a world where young adults, instead of seeking help for their depression and anger, take out assault weapons and mow down classrooms of innocent 5 and 6 year olds, as well as the teachers protecting them. We live in a world where anger is pervasive and compassion and empathy have been lost. We live in a world where so many folks cannot find productive, helpful ways to turn their anger into compassion for others, into reconciliation, into solutions that are peaceful. We live in a world where we have either forgotten how to see others as children of God—just as we are—and love them as such.

Why are we so angry? I googled that very question this week, and there were thousands of responses, which itself says a great deal. Most had deep psychological reasons and responses, but an article from Psychology Today sums it up pretty simply and pretty well: “We are a nation where many of our citizens are overworked, exhausted, financially strapped, alienated, and disconnected. We clock in day in and day out, and very often are left feeling unappreciated and uninspired. Of course we would be upset, agitated, and angry.” Makes sense to me—overworked and underpaid, worried about how to pay our bills, disconnected from each other even when we think there is so much that connects us. It’s so amazing how disconnected we are, especially in our technological world, especially when we think we are more connected than ever. There is so, so much that disconnects us that we have lost the inability to talk with each other and find constructive ways to get rid of our anger. The article goes on to ask: “Does this justify hatred, threats, and malice? Of course not.”

We do live in a world filled with anger, fueled by anger, and Jesus helps us to find constructive ways to deal with it:

You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, “You shall not murder” and “whoever murders shall be liable to judgment. But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, “You fool,” you will be liable to the hell of fire. So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.”

Jesus has called us, as his followers, to be the light of the world, but he knows that we aren’t perfect. Jesus knows we are sinful people, that we often tear down instead of build up, that we do so much through our anger to harm our relationships. He knows, although we are created for mutual support, we are so prone to the break our relationships with each other and the world. He knows we are people in constant need of reconciliation.

I think it’s vital to point something out here: Jesus doesn’t tell us not to be angry; he knows we get angry, and he knows anger is a valid and important human emotion. Anger is part of the reality of our sinfulness, and because of that, Jesus doesn’t tell us not to be angry. Instead, he gives us constructive, healthy ways to deal with our anger. When we are angry, Jesus tells us to seek reconciliation with that person, to seek forgiveness and love. And then he calls us to come and give at the altar, and to leave our anger there with everything else that we have to offer. Jesus calls us to give everything back to God, to offer our highs and our lows, our gifts and our grievances, our celebrations and concerns—to ask for forgiveness at the altar, and to be forgiven.

Because we have been called as followers and charged to carry our light into the world, Jesus calls us constantly to be in reconciliation with each other. In our loss of empathy and compassion, in our world that seems to be so fueled with anger, Jesus tell us we must be reconciled, to be reconciled before we are ever able to bring our offerings. But how do we do that—how do we seek to be reconciled? For we who call ourselves Christians, we are called to recognize and celebrate that anger and forgiveness go hand in hand. One of my favorite books is called Practicing our Faith, a book of essays about the Christian practices of hospitality, keeping Sabbath, saying yes and no, testimony, discernment—and forgiveness—among them. In his essay on forgiveness, Gregory Jones recognizes that anger is part of life, but tells us that anger and forgiveness must go hand in hand. While anger is a natural emotion, if we don’t deal with it in positive ways, it will keep us down and stew in our soles. In the face of anger, forgiveness is what brings us back to wholeness.

He tells how to practice the art of forgiveness: 1. We become willing to speak truthfully and patiently about the conflicts that have arisen, even if there isn’t agreement about what happened; 2. We acknowledge both the existence of anger and bitterness and a desire to overcome them; 3. We summon up a concern for the well-being of the other as a child of God; 4. We recognize our own complicity in conflict, remember that we have been forgiven in the past, and take steps of repentance; 5. We make a commitment to struggle to change whatever caused and continues to perpetuate our conflicts; 6. We confess our yearning for the possibility of reconciliation.

Sounds pretty easy, right? This is hard stuff, especially when we are stubborn and hurt and embarrassed and sad. But we have to do this, even if it takes repeating the steps over and over again just to get them right. When there is anger, we must bring it to the altar of forgiveness. We must forgive, forgive ourselves to get rid of what weighs us down, forgive to bring about reconciliation with others and wholeness in our own lives, and forgive—most importantly—because we have so often been forgiven by our Lord. Jesus reminds us we truly can’t offer ourselves to our loving God, the God who created us, without first offering, practicing, and asking for reconciliation. Then, and only then, can we come to the altar and truly offer ourselves.

You know, when I first read this passage, I got a little sad it was our lectionary text for this beautiful baptism day. Seriously—who wants to hear a sermon about the reality of anger in our world at the same time we celebrate this beloved child of God? But the more I thought about it, the more lovely and challenging it became for me. In the sacrament today, we have celebrated together as we have thanked God for the waters that wash us clean and welcome us into community. We have given praise for this beautiful child whom God has called beloved. And, yes, we have promised—every single one of us—to help raise him in the faith, to tell him stories about Christ, to pick him up when he falls, to surround him with the love of God. We have made a covenant with God, but can we truly keep our end of the covenant as long as we are angry? As long as we hold grudges? As long as we refuse to ask for forgiveness or offer it ourselves? Can we keep this covenant if we are angry and not shining our lights of Christ for everyone to see? God has made promises to us and is constantly faithful to the covenant—can we say the same? The waters have washed Robert clean, and have done the same for every single one of us. God has made promises, has claimed Robert as beloved and done the same for every single one of us. Perhaps it’s time for us to keep up our end of the deal and live as children of light, as the salt of the earth, as people of reconciliation. Thanks be to God.