October 6, 2024

Another Thing I Wish He Hadn’t Said

In last week’s sermon I dealt with some words of Jesus that I told you I wished he hadn’t said.  The truth is, there are a number of things that I stumble upon emanating from the lips of Jesus that I can hardly believe are coming out of his mouth.  I landed on another one these “things I wish he hadn’t said” in today’s reading from the gospel of Mark.

I have read these verses before — the ones about anyone who divorces and remarries being an adulterer — and usually I have just quickly kept reading.  Looking for something a little more uplifting and theologically or spiritually satisfying.  As most of you are well aware, I have been divorced and remarried, and I’m not particularly fond of what Jesus has to say on the subject.  In fact, I wish he hadn’t said it at all.

I suspect I’m not alone.  Howard Clark Kee, writing in the Interpreter’s Commentary on the Bible, talks about Matthew’s account of this saying of Jesus.  In Matthew, the words are a little different.  Jesus’ blanket condemnation of divorce and remarriage is softened a bit in the Matthew account.  Here, a person is given the right to divorce on the grounds of unchastity.  Kee sees this as a tinkering with the words by the early church.  He describes the more lenient account in Matthew as a “setting aside of the unconditional rejection of divorce and remarriage in Mark 10, which was surely the teaching of Jesus himself.  Matthew shows that the early church was not able to live by the radical demands of Jesus, but had instead to modify them — as it thought — practicable.”  If Kee is to be believed, folks have been having trouble swallowing these words of Jesus all the way back to when they were first written down.

It’s interesting to note, that, in the same book of commentary, Lindsey Pherigo, commenting on the Mark passage says almost the opposite – that “this account represents a Gentile Christian adaptation of Jesus’ original teaching . . . Matthew 19:9 more accurately represents Jesus . . .”  Apparently, neither commentator wants to claim these words, in the gospel they are dealing with, as the words of Jesus.  I bet there are a lot of folks who just plain wish he had never said this.

But, as much as I dislike this saying of Jesus, I have come to regard it as among the best of Biblical arguments in the debate about homosexuality and the church.  That statement obviously requires a little explaining.  So, here goes:

Whenever I hear someone quoting scripture to support their condemnation of gay and lesbian people, I tend to think I’m not hearing a reasoned scriptural position so much as a bit of proof-texting to support a deeply held personal feeling based on a strong cultural taboo.  But whenever the subject of homophobia comes up, what I hear from those anti-gay Christians is something like this: “Oh no, this isn’t about homophobia.  It’s purely a matter of being faithful to scripture.  The Bible says it’s an abomination, and that’s all there is to it.  I’ve met a lot of gay people; I’m not homophobic.  I just follow the Bible.”

The only problem with that argument is, well, this morning’s scripture reading.  If it’s all simply a matter of following scripture, then if folks are going to go into a rage about immorality and all those people who flaunt the moral laws of God, why is it I never hear them talk about this one?  I think they must kind of skip over it too, the way I’d like to, hoping nobody will notice.  Which is pretty wise for those among our more conservative brethren and sistren, since probably 40% of their constituents are divorced and remarried.  It’s one thing to stand up and rail against the evils of those kind of people, whoever they may be, but when you start saying such things about such a large percentage of your constituents it gets a little more dicey.

The point is, it was the Apostle Paul who said that “men [being] consumed with passion for one another” was “unnatural.”  Jesus never said a single word about homosexuality.  But it was Jesus himself who said that if a man divorces his wife and marries another he commits adultery!  I personally would put a lot more stock in the words of Jesus than in those of Paul – Paul, who also said that women should keep silent in church – Paul, who condoned slavery.  No, this condemnation of those who divorce and remarry comes from Jesus himself.  So, my point is this: if it’s not about homophobia, and it’s purely a matter of faithfulness to scripture, why aren’t the Southern Baptists throwing all those “remarrieds” out of the church.  I mean, here are people who are, according to Jesus, living in an adulterous relationship.  They are unrepentant.  And worse, they’re “flaunting” it!

I realize that all of this doesn’t do anything to get me off the hook.  As a divorced and remarried man, I’m still hanging out there dangling in front of these words of Jesus that I’d like him to take back.

There may be a few of you sitting out there who are thinking, “boy, this really is a problem.  I’m glad I’m not divorced and don’t have to think about it.”  Well, guess what, I’ve got a few for you to consider, too.

Do you think you might have ever said or done anything that may have been hurtful or a “stumbling block” to others — particularly children?  Have you ever said anything like, “Johnny, what’s wrong with you?  Why did you do such a stupid thing?”  Or, strike out at a child in anger, unintentionally communicating that he or she is of lesser value or unacceptable?  Have you ever wondered if such brief thoughtless moments have had any cumulative negative impact on them?

Listen to what Jesus said about that: “Stumbling blocks are sure to come, but woe to him by whom they come!  It would be better for him if a millstone were hung round his neck and he were cast into the sea than that he should cause one of these little ones to stumble.”  Welcome to the club.

Jesus had some very harsh language for any of us who may have felt we had sufficient justification for anger at our parents.  He administered a scathing blow to those who soften the commandment to honor one’s father and mother.  He shouted at them, and called them hypocrites!

And when I read through the rest of scripture, I find things like Paul saying that those who are immoral or idolators, or greedy will not inherit the kingdom of God.  What does that say about every one of us sitting in this room — every person who has grown up in America, a nation built and flourishing on the primacy of greed, and the idolatry of power, wealth, youth, and possessions.

And if I haven’t hit you yet with one you’re guilty of, trust me, I could stand up here for the next hour quoting scripture, and sooner or later, I’d getcha.

Now, I realize, you may be thinking that I just shifted the focus again, because I didn’t want to keep dealing with this saying of Jesus about divorce.  It hits a little too close to home.  Maybe it’s true.  I have to confess, of all the sins I find listed, and all the commandments, and rules and restrictions, I find myself reading this one from Jesus, and just wishing he hadn’t said it.

Well, I have some bad news.  Try as I might, I haven’t found any way around these words of Jesus.  I haven’t been able to do the exegetical shell game of Mr. Kee and Mr. Pherigo, and say that the words in Matthew aren’t the original words of Jesus, so they don’t count, and coincidentally, the words in Mark aren’t either.  I’m afraid I’m stuck with Jesus’ condemnation.  And, I’m sorry to say, so are you — stuck with whatever it is in this book that you are guilty of.

Now, I realize preachers aren’t supposed to be hitting people over the head with the Bible in this age of enlightened positive thinking.  We’re all supposed to feel good about ourselves.  We’re supposed to stand in front of the mirror every morning, and say, “I’m capable.  I’m creative.  I’m competent.  I’m a winner!”  And church is not supposed to be a place where we have all our positive self-image ripped to shreds.  Someone told me once that one of the terrible things he remembers about the church of his youth is how he walked out of church every Sunday feeling like he had been beat up.  Nobody likes that.  In fact, I agree!  I don’t want to walk out feeling like I’ve just beat up on myself!  But I still can’t just ignore these words of Jesus, and pretend he didn’t say them.

So what’s the point?  Simply this: I have only one plea: guilty as charged.  But at least I’m not alone.  So do you.  That puts every last one of us in a kind of club together — or a family.  It’s a family of sinners.  It’s a club for everyone who stands guilty — convicted.  And that’s all of us.  And we are bound together in that family, as William Sloan Coffin said, because of our “. . . inability to separate ourselves from each other through judgement.  And that is no mean bond.”

You see, the more I read scripture, the more convinced I become that there is an evil that transcends the evil of divorce and remarriage, or the evil of adultery, or the evil of failing to honor father and mother, or the evil of causing a child to stumble, or the evil of greed, or the evil of idolatry.  When I read the teachings of Jesus, I realize that he saved his most devastating and scathing words for those who separated themselves from others through judgement.  He said, “Judge not, lest you yourself be judged.”  He said, “Take the log out of your own eye, before commenting on the speck in your neighbor’s eye.”  And for their hypocrisy and self-righteous judgments, he called the Pharisees a bunch of snakes!

I think the teachings of Jesus and the words of scripture are not intended to leave us feeling self-satisfied.  I think the point is we’re supposed to feel just a little beat-up.  We’re supposed to be right there with the disciples when they find their heads spinning from it all and finally say to Jesus, “Then who can be saved?”  We’re supposed to be right there, so that we can be ready to receive his answer, “With God, all things are possible.”  We’re supposed to know our need of grace, so that we can stand shoulder to shoulder with all of our fellow human beings under the shelter of that same grace.

Loren Eisley, the great naturalist writer, told of coming upon a remarkable sight one afternoon while on one of his excursions in a barren desert valley in the western United States.  A huge blacksnake had coiled itself around a hen pheasant.  The bird was struggling to free herself.  Eisley watched for a moment and saw the “bloodshot glaze” deepen in the bird’s eyes, but finally knew he had to intervene.  He describes how he arbitrated the matter:

“I unwound the serpent from the bird and let him hiss and wrap his battered coils around my arm.  The bird, her wings flung out, rocked on her legs and gasped repeatedly.  I moved away in order not to drive her farther from her nest.  Thus the serpent and I, two terrible and feared beings, passed quickly out of view.

“Over the next ridge, where he could do no more damage, I let the snake, whose anger had subsided, slowly uncoil and slither from my arm. . . . which throbbed from his expert constriction.  The bird had contended for birds against the oncoming future; the serpent writhing into the bunch grass had contended just as desperately for serpents.  And I, the apparition in that valley — for what had I contended? — I who contained the serpent and the bird and who read the past long written in their bodies. . . . I had struggled, I am now convinced, for a greater, more comprehensive version of myself.”

Eisley made a great discovery by holding the bird and the snake — containing them within his experience in an instinctive act of grace.  He knew himself to be as mortal and struggling as they, and so shared his life with them for a brief moment, and found his own world was made larger.

That’s what grace always does.  It allows us to touch one another, hold one another, contain within ourselves something of each other’s life.  Because it is only when we know ourselves to be equally mortal and equally in need, together breathing the same fresh air of Divine infinite love and forgiveness, that we can truly enter into each other’s experience.

And for what?  Perhaps, in Eisley’s words, “for a greater, more comprehensive version of ourselves.”