29 October 2023 Pentecost 22

This morning I am borrowing heavily from a commentary on this week’s gospel which I read during the week.  And the commentary begins with a comment about the current crisis in the Middle East.  The Israeli-Palestinian conflict has a long and complicated history.  And despite all the rhetoric, the complexities and the understandable rage and despair on all sides, there are some things which need to be said, yet also should not have to be said.

Terrorism is always wrong.  Murder and kidnapping innocent civilians can never be justified.  Starving civilians of food, water, fuel, electricity, and medical supplies, is barbaric.  This catastrophe did not have to happen; it was not inevitable.

A Jewish rabbi wrote, in an article, something which he should not have had to say.  “It is possible to both oppose the occupation and condemn the murder of civilians”.  He continues: “the occupation is morally wrong, and the violence inflicted on innocent civilians in Gaza and parts of the West Bank is unconscionable.”

A New York Times journalist made a comment which also must be said, even though it seems obvious. “When you care about human life only in Israel or only in Gaza, then you don’t actually care about humanity … If your moral compass is attuned to the suffering of only one side, your compass is broken, and so is your humanity.”  There is no ‘hierarchy’ of human life; the pain of a grieving parent in Israel is no different from the anguish of a parent in Gaza; all lives are of equal value.

And it is helpful to consider this conflict in the broader scope of history.  Christians have been just as polemically ideological as anyone else.  We have our own shameful history of violence – the Crusades where Muslims were slaughtered; the Holocaust; violence against our own First Nations People; and we have slaughtered each other many times.

Our gospel message this morning is so familiar that we should not have to say it, but we must continue to say it: “love God, and love your neighbour as yourself”.  And more importantly, we must not just say it, we need to live it.

When I was growing up, I lived in a long street, which was a dead end, and I lived near the dead end.  I knew the people on either side of us, the people across the road, many of the people up the road, in fact there were probably few people in that end of the street I did not know, at least to nod hello to if I did not actually know their name.  But since I have been married, that has changed.  In our early married life, I did know some of our neighbours, but as we moved again and again, that ‘knowing’ got less and less, although there have been the odd exceptions.  The problem is, our current society and the way we live our lives these days discourages us, to varying degrees, from ‘knowing’ or speaking to those in our neighbourhood.  We are encouraged to live isolated lives where we keep to ourselves and don’t go out of our way to speak to, or get to know, those who live on the other side of the fence.  But today’s gospel tells us not just to ‘know’ our neighbours, but to love them.  And to love them as I love myself.

Jesus links our love of God and our love of neighbour.  He implies we cannot separate them, to have one is to have the other, and to neglect one is to lose them both.  And the connection between claiming to love God and demonstrating that love of neighbour became so entrenched in the early Christian traditions that all three Synoptic gospels contain a version of this story.  Paul also wrote often about it, as did James, and John in his letters.

And today’s gospel reminds us of other Christian affirmations that should not have to be said, yet also must be said.  Honour and protect the dignity of every human being, because every one of them is made in the image of God and is of equal value.  Blessed are the peacemakers.  Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, and pray for those who mistreat you.  Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.  Do not kill.  Do not oppress the stranger.  Care for the poor, the widow, the alien, the orphan, the prisoner, the homeless, and the hungry.  Live at peace with all people.  Advocate for those who cannot advocate for themselves; protect the rights of all who are destitute; defend the rights of the poor and needy.  Do justice, love kindness.

The war in Palestine and Israel will likely continue with its own logic – with military strategies, political calculation, news coverage, the manipulation of social media, protests and vigils around the world, peace summits, and, we hope, the legal constraints of international laws.  These are important, but they are only part of the picture.  A much more important reality is what has been called the ‘moral challenge of war’ and it threatens all of us.  And we are warned by that NYT journalist I mentioned earlier of a moral imperative which needs to be said yet also should not have to be said – ‘do not destroy your soul’ in this horrible conflict.

Love God.  Love you neighbour.  It sounds easy, and I think it should be easy, but unfortunately it is not as easy as it should be.  The problem is, we often make loving ‘difficult’, and we make it ‘conditional’, and sometimes we turn love into something it is not.  We have overused the word love so much that it no longer holds the meaning it should.  Love is not a word that should be used for ‘food’, or ‘tv programs’, or ‘activities’.  For those things, words like - like, or am fond of, or enjoy, are appropriate.  We also don’t ‘fall’ in love, and it certainly doesn’t break our hearts or happen at first sight.  Love is not a ‘feeling’, or a preference, it is a matter of obedience to the one we call ‘Lord’.  Biblical love is vulnerable making; it requires trust; it reaches beyond our borders and margins; and it takes time, effort, discipline and transformation.

We have a God who first and foremost wants our love, and we have a God who wants every one of God’s children to feel loved.  By us.  It is not an accident or coincidence that Jesus links love of God with love of neighbour.  Each reinforces, reinterprets, and revives the other.  We cannot love God and, at the same time, refuse to love what and who God loves.  We cannot love God without also reaching down into the dirt and depth of the world.  Our love is meant to be robust and muscular, hands-on and intimate.  Reaching into skin and bone and blood and tears.

We also cannot love ourselves or our neighbours in any meaningful, sustainable way if our love is not constantly being replenished and sourced in an abiding love for God.  Only God’s love is without limit, and if we cut ourselves off from that flow of God’s compassion we will eventually find ourselves running dry.  In other words, our hearts work in repeating cycles – the love of God making possible and deepening the love of neighbour and the love of neighbour putting flesh and bones on our love of God.

So what is it we are commanded to do?  We are to follow in the footsteps of the one who stood in the presence of his accusers and enemies and declared love to be the ‘be-all’ and ‘end-all’.  We are called to weep with those who are weeping; touch the untouchables; feed the hungry; laugh with those who laugh; release the captives; welcome the children; forgive sinners; confront the oppressors; comfort the oppressed; wash each other’s feet; hold each other close; and tell each other the truth.  And when we do that, there is no room for aggression or terrorism, or kidnapping or murder, because that is not how we love and it is not allowing the love God has for all humanity to be revealed through the love we share with all humanity.