20 Feb Sunday, February 20, 2022
Before he spoke, Jesus said, “I say to you that listen.” That’s one thing I’ll say about you all. Every Sunday, you give me the impression that you’re listening. I hope you are. You’ve got me convinced that you are. If you’re not, perhaps you’ll tell me why. Maybe I don’t want to know. Let’s think about that some other time, shall we?
If you were listening moments ago, you heard a gospel reading that sounded like a long “To-Do-List” followed by some “Don’ts.” Before Jesus handed out pencils to those listening, he first listed a bunch of disqualifiers for those ready to check off boxes. Loving, check. Giving, check. Lending, not always, but sometimes. Is that an option?
Jesus’ audience was ready to identify themselves as good. We know the drill, hand us the test. Jesus says, “Not so fast. Listen to my instructions. You will receive no credit if you answer quickly, going only so far as giving when it comes naturally, or at minimum cost to you, or by expecting anything in return.
Like the International Olympic Committee, the guardian and leader of the Jesus movement expresses virtues and ideals which inspire its organization. Jesus, like the IOC, hopes to build a better world through shared activity.
Parallel activity which causes the world to collaborate with public and private authorities, brings nations together and demonstrates the best results that practice, discipline, sacrifice and resources can produce. Such activities require inspiration, coaching, and accountability.
The difference between the IOC and Jesus is the idea that a better world is not built through sport which encourages direct competition, but through what sounds exactly like the opposite: letting the other person win.
At the heart of the gospel message is changing the way participants identify themselves, changing the dynamics from I vs. my competitor to I-Thou. Thou is a person known by name in their own right. Thou is a person equally deserving of anything I might be.
I-Thou relationships create unity of being and recognition of mutuality. What happens between I and Thou becomes personal. If you’ve watched any Olympic coverage in the past twenty years, you’ve seen it become a showcase for stories about athletes and their families.
Through this medium, connections are made between viewers of all ages, watching from different states and nations. In an interesting way, competition works differently than it usually does. Otherwise divided hearts cross boundaries of language, culture, religion, and politics willingly.
Jesus says, bless those who do not appreciate your place of upbringing or citizenship. Do something good, perform a deliberate act beyond praying for those who have no interest in learning your language or adopting your culture. For those who hate or curse what you value or worse still, would steal from you, let them take. Do not withhold, go above and beyond. Do as you wish they would, were you the one in need.
Loving or cheering on those who represent us, who love what we love, what credit is that? For even sinners, people guilty of breaking the rules do the same. Unworthy participants who neither contribute nor pay back, do the same. Expect nothing and your reward will be great.
The closing ceremony of the Olympics will take place today. The games will be over, but the competition will go on. The dynamics of our relationships will change. We’ll stop seeing faces, arms and legs of people we relate to, and return to speaking of them by affiliation, geographical location, and members of certain groups.
The world will revert to impersonal references, talk of residents, troops or civilians, forgetting that all nations represent one family as children of the Most High. There can be no unity of being, no mutuality of shared dreams, no setting of like minded goals or hoping for success unless we acknowledge God’s hard work and sacrifice to create one family.
Jesus rebels against Olympic standards by saying no one is to observe the performance of others from a vantage point of expertise, then act like a panel of judges. Regardless of one’s ability to evaluate how well things are done, we’re not able to perform perfectly ourselves, so don’t condemn.
Unlike what Jesus offers, there’s no place for mercy at the Olympics. One either qualifies or does not, is compliant or not, is documented, tested and worthy or not. Commentators often say, “Aww, too bad. That mistake is going to cost them.”
As I watched some of the trial and sentencing of officer Kim Potter, it seemed to me that the principle of I-Thou was at play. After the tragic killing of Daunte Wright, people involved and those who followed the events seemed to open themselves.
They allowed the circumstances to change the dynamics of their relationships. Officer Potter confessed to her wrongdoing. Many people who knew her and Daunte Wright came forward to testify about the person they knew. I-Thou, known by a particular name in their own right. I-Thou, equally deserving and full of potential. I-Thou whose families each wanted their child to offer their best that day.
Persons involved in a horrible event began to relate to each other with unity of being and mutuality. Grief and sadness was experienced very differently, but effort was made to share it. Lawyers described what happened from various perspectives. The presiding judge acknowledged it as the saddest case she’d ever been part of.
Jesus and the IOC imply that I-Thou is about togetherness. Together we relate to the need for more than just a shirt or to lash out sometimes. Together, we relate to having dreams, setting goals and hoping for success. Together we relate to hard work and sacrifice paying off. Once we love our enemies we’ll no longer refer to them as the enemy.
Olympic commentary doesn’t fit Jesus’ model of speculating on performance or identifying contestants. Jesus says, “No individual can live up to a reputation placed upon them by outsiders. You don’t realize that every individual within any collective group is a child of the Most High, the only one possessing perfect knowledge and the appropriate vantage point to say so.”
The relationship dynamic Jesus sets forth is this: I-Thou. Yes, he does condemn entire groups sometimes, switching from I-Thou to I-Them. But he always comes back to I-Thou. “My Father is also your Father.” It’s not me and my team against Samaritans or Gentiles. Love the competitor, that person or group that causes in you the greatest fear of Win or Lose.
Using language besides I-Thou only creates endless trials. Such language will never culminate in something for all to celebrate. Gaining possessions without mutually sharing deprives others the chance of qualifying. Naked they cannot be in attendance, much less competing or standing onstage.
A number of Olympians over the years bravely stood up for what was denied fellow athletes. They helped the oversight committee see human need, expose abuse, and integrate well being beyond a singular goal. Religious fitness, too, is a sign of comprehensive health. Mutuality and unity can contribute to both individual and collective strength and capability.
These are the values and signs of integrity in what Jesus says. Each participant has value regardless of their ability to perform or execute according to expected standards. Tragedy is caused by a cycle of hurt. Those who hate, curse, abuse or make mistakes feel stuck and are suffering. Being forced to beg is a sign of need, nothing else.
But why Jesus; why? What do you really hope to accomplish by telling us what to do and not do? Perhaps he’d say this. “To start with, open your ears, your eyes, your heart and soul everyday. Learn something and love those who cause in you the greatest fear of Win or Lose. Strive for mutuality and unity of being because you are children of the Most High.”
That’s not easy and doesn’t come naturally. I keep this little prayer handy to help me. “Teach us, good Lord, to serve you as you deserve: to give and not count the cost, to fight and not heed the wounds, to toil and not seek for rest, to labor and not ask for any reward save that of knowing we do your will.” Attributed to St. Ignatius Loyola (1491-1556).
Ignatius understood that we can’t easily love people or a God that disappoints or angers us. Nor do we often do good, lend without expectation, or wait for rewards. We can’t judge or condemn either, so what can we do?
Perhaps we can rethink our judgments and refrain from condemnation. Stop defending our actions and own our part. It seems to me, I witnessed that transformation during Kim Potter’s trial for the killing of Daunte Wright. It’s a lesson God promises to love each one of us through. Let us pray.
Lord, by the power of your Holy Spirit, through your grace, steadfast love and forgiveness, may every victim, as well as persons accused of crimes awaiting trial, those convicted and sentenced, those following orders or lacking control, may they along with their families make the best of unfortunate circumstances.
May each be empowered by you to prevent further violence or damage, breaking the cycle of hurt. Deescalate the fear of Winning or Losing all over the world. Open everyone to learn and listen. Help us not only to see or pray, but act upon opportunity: to do good, to strengthen mutuality and unity of being. Gather us into one family, so all have reason to celebrate. In your holy name we pray. Amen.