If Your Tweets Cause You to Stumble . . .
30 September 2018
St. Paul’s, Kansas City
Esther 7:1–6, 9–10; 9:20–22
Psalm 124
James 5:13-23
Mark 9:38-50
The book of Esther recounts how the Jewish exiles in
Babylon were saved from extermination by the happy coincidence that one of them
was married to King Ahasuerus.
The remembrance
of this deliverance makes up the Jewish festival of Purim, which is usually celebrated in February or March due to the
Jewish Lunar calendar, so, accordingly, the Revised Common Lectionary puts it
in the Fall. Tradition holds that during the reading of Esther in the Synagogue, every time the name of the bad guy, Haman,
is mentioned the congregation makes noise, traditionally with a device like
this, called a gragger. As we all know kids love the opportunity to make noise
during church, so Purim is especially boisterous in Synagogues.
However, for
today’s reflections I was drawn to our Gospel reading. The disciples approach
Jesus and tell him that someone was casting out demons in his name. They tried
to stop him, because he was not one of Jesus’ inner circle. But Jesus tells
them to leave him alone. “. . . for no
one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak
evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us.”
Then, for me,
anyway, the passage gets a bit confusing. Anyone who gives you a cup of water
because you’re my followers will be rewarded.
But be careful to not cause anyone to stumble. And then, it gets really strange.
“If your hand
causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed
than to have two hands and go to hell, to the unquenchable fire.” In retrospect, I had to wonder about the
mixed metaphor caused by the New Revised Standard translation; how one’s hand
can cause one to stumble? It sounds much
less confusing in the King James Version, “And if thy hand offend thee, cut it
off.”
Is Jesus to be
taken literally here? If your hand
causes you to stumble, cut it off? If
your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off?
If your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out? Apparently not even the
most literal interpreters of the Bible believe this passage is to be taken literally
or most of the televangelists you see today would be limping around blindly.
Jesus is using
a Middle Eastern teaching tool in this passage – hyperbole, whereby the teacher
overstates, exaggerates the example to make the lesson memorable. Despite what the Bible literally says, Jesus
does not advocate lopping off parts of our anatomies to avoid infractions of
God’s law. Jesus would prefer submission
rather than mutilation.
In a way,
Jesus’ hyperbolic analogy is true. It is better to enter life maimed than
to have two hands and die. Years ago I
was simultaneously inspired and appalled at the story of Aron Ralston, a young
rock climber whose arm became trapped under a 1,000-pound boulder. Over the next several days, he tried
everything he could think of to free himself.
He tried to sling his rope over the boulder and lift it. He tried chipping away at the rock with his
pocketknife. Finally, after he ran out
of food and water, he realized the only way he could save his life was to
amputate his arm with that same pocketknife.
I cannot conceive of the courage and determination that took. I’m too squeamish to get a tattoo! But Ralston amputated his forearm, then
rappelled down the 60-foot cliff and hiked six miles to help. Afterwards he said, “I’m not sure how I
handled it. I felt pain. I coped with it. I moved on.”
Jesus’ advise is true; if your hand causes you
to stumble, cut it off. I would add even
another clause to Jesus’ example. I
would add, “If your tongue causes you to stumble, cut it out.”
I was
originally scheduled to preach on September 16th but was preempted
by Bishop Alexander. The reading from James for that Sunday emphasized the
power of the tongue to both bless and curse.
“For
every species of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and
has been tamed by the human species, but no one can tame the tongue--a restless
evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it
we curse those who are made in the likeness of God.
From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this
ought not to be so.”[1]
We all know people
who seemingly can’t open their mouths with promptly inserting a foot. Their
quotes bounce around the internet and in the fake news media. "This is a
tough hurricane, one of the wettest we’ve ever seen, from the standpoint of
water."[2]
The power of
the tongue is insidious when within the Church.
I was originally attracted to the Episcopal Church by the diversity of
opinion found within its ranks, but I soon found out that we weren’t that
tolerant. Differences over which prayer
book to use, the ordination of women, the incorporation and ordination of the
LGBTQ faithful have roiled the Episcopal Church to the point that communication
between the sides became next to impossible.
It can even be
worse within our parishes. Those of us
who have been around a few years can remember parishes which were roiled by
differences of opinion over the worth of clergy or fellow parishioners, the way
our common liturgy is expressed, what music is expected on religious holidays, ad infinitum. All fueled by the tongue.
The Prophet
Muhammad[3]
said, “Will people not be thrown face down into Hell only on account of the
harvest of their tongue?”
In light of our 21st
Century technological advancements, I would even add another example to Jesus’
metaphor, “If your Tweets cause you to stumble, throw away your phone!”
If I say something here,
maybe 150 people hear it over three services.
But if I post it online, presumably 1,500 people read it. I am
constantly hearing from people who say they enjoy my postings on Facebook and
Twitter, but they are stunned to hear that that view is not universally held.
But when we post something
online, it is without nuance, without inflection, without tone. Whatever they read is whatever you said, even
though that might not be what you meant.
We can cite numerous
instances where things posted online have exploded beyond their poster’s
intention. Roseanne Barr lost a
television contract because of a stupid, racist post about Valerie Jarrett. Donald
Trump is ridiculed daily about what he posts on Twitter.
But what do we do? Do we
remain silent? Some people back away entirely, in order to keep peace, or to
avoid the trolls who populate the internet. Many of us know people who have
closed Facebook or Twitter accounts to avoid the negative comments, including
Will Wheaton, and you have to be a real Star
Trek: The Next Generation geek to get that allusion.
When we are speaking, or
texting, we need to be aware that we are addressing “those who are made in the
likeness of God,” as James wrote. This is summed up in our Baptismal promise to
“respect the dignity of every human being.” But sometimes it’s hard, and
sometimes I fail. I often fail, not necessarily in speaking, but often in
posting. One phrase sticks with me, “He
does not suffer fools gladly.” Mea culpa,
mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
So, what are we to do,
remain silent?
No, on some issues we are
called to speak out. I have a t-shirt
with a quote from Archbishop Desmond Tutu that says, “If you remain neutral
[substitute silent] in the face of injustice, you have chosen the side of the
oppressor.” In the same Baptismal pledge cited previously, we promised to
“strive for justice and peace among all people.”
But speaking out has a
price. The prophets did not remain silent in the face of unrighteousness, and
they paid a price. Jesus did not remain silent, and he paid a price.
Our price today is much
less than they paid, but it remains painful.
Mother Megan Castellan gets dissed by many internet trolls virtually
every time she Tweets something controversial, as does Fr. Stan. Linda and I
have lost close friends because of our stand on equality for our LGBTQ friends
and neighbors. I spent twenty years as a police chaplain, but lost that
ministry when I chose to begin speaking out about the injustice of public
officials citing religious reasons for not respecting the equality of people who
wish to engage in the institution of marriage. Our parishes have lost members
because clergy have taken a stand for justice in our community, state, and
nation.
There is a price to pay for
speaking out, but we must speak out. It is part of our Baptismal pledges, part of our promise to take
up our cross and follow Him.
[1] James
3:7-10
[2] Jack
Holmes, “Water, the American President Explained, Is Wet,” https://www.esquire.com/news-politics/a23316282/president-trump-hurricane-florence-wettest-from-the-standpoint-of-water/
[3] Peace be
upon him.
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