 |
| Notice the Aquilifier and the Eagle Emblem leading the unit |
January 26, 2014
Today – we come to third
illustration Jesus uses to show us now to love our enemies. Jesus commands us: If
anybody forces you to go a mile with him, do more—go two miles with him.
Let me once again
invite you to use your imagination – to allow place yourself in the Galilee of
Palestine under Roman occupation in the
First Century.
Imagine that I am a carpenter in a small village on the
road from the Caesaria, Roman capital of Palestine, and Tiberias, the
provincial capital, on the Sea of Galilee.
One day I have my tools and equipment outside a home beside the road. I have bartered building a table for the
family for a portion for a week’s worth of oil for the lamps in my home. On this fine afternoon, just before lunch, I
am trying to complete the leg of this chair when I hear a commotion coming down
the road from the Sea. I see the dust
cloud coming through town before I see them – a column of Roman soldiers.
It’s a contubernia,
the smallest of the Roman military units with only 8 soldiers, headed to
join their cohort in Tiberias. The men
look massive and foreign in their battle dress of armor, helmet, and dagger. At the front of the line marches the aquilifer – the standard bearer carrying
the Roman military’s emblem – a golden eagle a top a tall pole. The men look menacing and hard like they have
faced death and survived. I grit my
teeth and back towards the house as they near me.
Behind the column I see 8 peasants and farmers sweating
profusely as they struggle with heavy packs.
They barely keep pace under the blazing sun and the fast pace of the aquilifer. The men are shabbily dressed – having been
picked from the side of the road – by the soldiers in the column. The Roman practice of Angareia has been a scourge to the men of my town. The Romans allow a soldier to conscript a
peasant in service to carry a military pack for a mile. Because our town sits on a heavily traveled road
with many Romans soldiers – most of us have been had to pay this debt to the
Roman occupation – except me.
The men carrying the packs today
look like pack mules there is so much equipment to carry. It’s no wonder everyone in town associates
the soldiers and the roman military with arrogance and injustice. The closer the cloud of dust moves, the
angrier I become. Hot hatred boils up
inside me.
I watch the golden eagle past and pray
to Elohim that I will survive their intrusion.
Then, just in front of me, one of the men in the back collapse under the
weight of the pack. I don’t know if it’s
been a mile or not – but his day is done.
The
rest of the column continues forward as a single soldier pulls out of formation
to retrieve his pack from the collapsed man’s back. He looks angry and violently pulls the pack
up and leaves the lump of a man silently on the ground.
The soldier begins looking around
and I belatedly realize what he is doing.
He is looking for a replacement, a new conscript. He is looking at me. He calls me forward in broken Aramaic.
“You! Carry!”
I quickly understand and respond
with haste. I walk to the road, keeping
my anger and my face to the ground. The
soldier pulls the pack into the air and drops it on my back. [Put pack on]
I start walking. I look back at the almost completed
chair. I suddenly realized this day will
be wasted – and I have no lunch. After
my mile walk, there will be another one back.
With frustration and bitterness I
keep walking. My head held down; my
thoughts boiling. I suddenly realize the pack is heavier than I expected. I try to keep up. The soldier stays out of formation walking
just ahead of me. As I watch him from
the rear – his roman sandals, his armor, his weapons – he becomes the focus of
all of my frustrations and fears and anger at the Roman occupation. He is the enemy of my people. He would rather kill me than save me. He is a pagan on God’s land – desecrating us
just by his presence.
As we walk step after step, I begin
imaging what I will do when my mile is complete. I could throw down the pack, run towards home
and then stop just out of range of the soldier’s weapons. I could pick up stones, throw them at him and
shout, “Get out of my country, you stinking, Roman dog! May the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob
destroy you! This is Yahweh’s
land!” I’m sure I could out run him if
he followed me. I let this thought
simmer and stew for a few dozen steps. I
begin to smile.
My mind drifts even farther and I
imagine I am Jacob the Zealot in town who keeps a curved dagger strapped to the
inside of his inner thigh at all times, just hoping for a moment like this. I imagine pulling the dagger out at the just
the right moment and attacking the soldier just between his armored
plates. I might not make it back home,
but it would be a small win in our fight against this imperial enemy. I feel my inner thigh hoping I might find
one.
I scare myself with these thoughts
of violence. Really, neither of these
options are me. I resign myself to the
fact that I am not a fighter – I’m a carpenter.
I live to care for my family. No,
I’m no zealot – I will simply walk home to finish my work tomorrow. No one would think less of me. Most of us endure this shame with our heads
hung down. What more can we really do if
we want to survive.
The pack has only gotten heavier as
we approach the next village. It’s been
more than a mile now, I know. I start
getting ready to throw the pack to the ground, when Elohim brings a new vision
into my head. It’s the teaching of
Jesus, the rabbi on the mountain. Many
of us have been going out to hear him.
His teachings have changed us in the face of our adversaries. Suddenly, I hear his voice in my head like a
vision from God: “If anybody forces you to go a mile with him, do more—go two
miles with him. Give to the man who asks anything from you, and don’t turn away
from the man who wants to borrow.”
Without a second thought, a new
energy roars into my lifeless legs and empty stomach. I march quickly up to the soldier who is hot
and tired just like me. I motion to him
and try to get him to understand.
“Thank you for this opportunity to
carry your pack,” I say. “For the sake
of Yahweh, I will carry the pack 1 more mile to the outskirts of Tiberias.”
The soldier looks confused. The rest of the soldiers in the column are
conscripting other peasants from their jobs for the final walk to town. I keep walking, stronger and bolder than
before. The soldier jogs to keep up with
me. He realizes suddenly that I am about
to carry his pack another mile. The
first mile belonged to the Empire of Rome, my oppressor, to this soldier. The second mile belongs to the Empire of God,
to the peasant, to me. This mile I
freely give as a gift because of all that God has given me – This is God’s
mile!
I look over at the soldier. He stares at me in disbelief. I can see him running through scenarios
trying to make sense of what is happening.
Suddenly, I realize that he is no long in front of me. We are walking side by side as equals. God’s mile has already changed the
dynamic. I look around at the other men
who are being conscripted and realize too
- there is one man who will not be chosen in this village. My mile has relieved someone of this burden
as well.
As we walk side by side, the soldier’s
face no longer looks harden – instead I see the sadness and loneliness of being
so far from home, stationed in a far off, foreign land. I am just as foreign to him as he is to
me.
I attempt a conversation. My voice is stronger than expected – especially
with the weight on my back.
“How long have you been stationed in
Palestine?” He seems to understand.
“Three years,” he motions with his
three fingers.
“Tell me about your family,” I ask.
“1 wife and three children,” I
understand as he motions with his hands the heights of his kids.
“When did you last see them?”
“3 years,” he motions, and then he
holds up 2 more – 2 more years of service before he returns home. 5 years away.
The anger drains out of me. This enemy is more like me than I ever
imagined. I find myself hurting for
him.
I ask, “Do you get much home
cooking.” I have to pantomime for him to
understand.
He shakes his head no.
Without thinking of the
consequences, the laws against such things – I suddenly blurt out like a fool
who is changing from the inside out, “then, you must stop at my home on your
way back to Caeasaria. My wife, Mary, is a wonderful cook.”
He understands and I finally see him
smile. He looks at me differently. I am no longer a Jewish dog to be conscripted
into service. I am a man who could be
his friend. Carrying his pack a second
mile has broken down the religious and social barriers that kept us enemies. It has offered us both a new future – one
built on mutual respect. All of this has
happened because of Jesus. Without
thinking about it, I begin to tell him more about this rabbi, the one some call
the Messiah, Jesus. A new day has dawned.
[Place
pack down]
Here is the Gospel for us today: Loving our enemies invites us to share the Gospel through
unexpected, grace filled encounters of service
Implications
On Friday, Sarah and I went skiing
together in North Carolina – and yes, I will owe her a $1 for this story. The entire trip to Maggie Valley and back
Sarah served as my personal DJ. She chose
song after song telling me the story of each and why she loved it.
I learned that one of her favorite
songs is as song called Jesus, Friend of
Sinners by Casting Crowds. I was
struck by her favorite line in the song because it represents this Good News of
going the second mile and living by the Third Way of Jesus: “Nobody knows what we're for only what we're
against when we judge the wounded, What if we put down our signs crossed over
the lines and loved like You did”
Jesus tells us to love our enemies
because he already loves them. The ultimate
purpose behind his command to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute
us is that they may discover and respond to the love of Jesus just like you and
me. Jesus
wants our enemies to become our brothers and sisters. Jesus wants the people we disagree with, the
people we can’t stand to be around, the people who have opposite political
beliefs, the people who say they would never come to our church, the people who
we never want to see in church – Jesus wants these vile, unfriendly people to
become our brothers and sisters.
In v.46, Jesus says – that God “makes
the sun to rise upon evil men as well as good, and he sends his rain upon
honest and dishonest men alike.” Why is this - Because both the evil
and the good are his children. He loves our
enemies as much as he loves us – “while we were both still sinners, Jesus died
for us,” Paul tells us in Romans. Loving
enemies is just one of the ways Jesus draws all into his life. When we love our enemies with unexpected,
grace filled encounters of service, we are inviting them to receive the grace
and freedom and joy that come from a life with Jesus.
We are God’s vehicles for sharing HIS
amazing, wild, unconditional love.
No one will ever experience this amazing
love through our hatred or our fear or our anger. No one will ever know this love when we point
our fingers at them. No one will ever
know this love when we are yelling at them.
Jesus knows, though, that our enemies
will see this love when we walk an extra mile for them. Our enemies will know God’s love when we turn
the other cheek. Our enemies will know
God’s love when we stand for justice. Our
enemies will know God’s love when we live generously and practice a servant
lifestyle. Our enemies will experience
God’s unconditional love demonstrated on the cross when we give unexpected,
grace filled encounters of service.
We witnessed this during our cold
weather shelter. In what felt like a
radical, challenging step of faith, we served individuals we rarely met; some of
whom were in great need of unconditional love.
More than a shelter they needed someone to serve them with the grace of
Jesus. God blessed the relationships and God blessed
us.
Invitation
God calls all us of Jesus followers
to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. When we do so – the world turns upside down
and grace comes rushing down like an avalanche.
This is the kind of love we are
talking about when we say that we as a church are called to love the world as
God loves. Jesus invites us to love the
world – and many times those in the world are the kind of people we call our
enemies. Our enemies are Democrats or
Republicans. Our enemies are drug
users. Our enemies are people on the
other end of whatever social case we call our own. Our enemies are from the North or from a big
city or speak a different language.
Whoever makes our enemy list – the
one we would never want to invite home – Jesus says walk the first mile with
them because you have too – then give them the gift of the second mile. It’s God’s mile in the first place. And when we do give it – When we love with unexpected,
grace filled encounters of service – don’t be surprised when relationships
happen. Don’t be surprised that you
might come to care for someone. Don’t be
surprised when someone shows up at our church.
Don’t be surprised when you end up calling them brother or sister and
sitting down across the fellowship hall table and smiling and laughing and
sharing life together. Don’t be
surprised when the enemy you love no longer becomes your enemy, but your
friend.
This is how life works in God’s
upside down empire. It’s a place where
the last are first and the first are last and our enemies turn into
friends. Who is God calling you to love
this week with an unexpected, grace filled encounters of service? Let’s see what happens when we do. Amen!
No comments:
Post a Comment