Epiphany 7
Read the Scriptures of the Day
We’re on our second dose of the Sermon on the Mount/Plain, where Jesus has really hit the peak of his ministry. This is the stuff that’s supposed to stick to your bones. This text is like the meat and potatoes of the Gospel (forgive me - the tofu and tempeh for some of us!)
For all the times when reading scripture feels like wading through the weeds of poetry and metaphor and ancient cosmologies… today is one of those breakthrough parts of the Gospel where it’s just all right there, plopped into our laps. It’s so simple, so straightforward… and so hard to actually implement in real life.
Last week’s Beatitudes and today’s Golden Rule are work. These are the practices, the behaviors, the guideposts that determine the hundreds of tiny decisions we make and interactions we have, just in a day.
Love your enemies.
Do good to those who hate you.
Bless those who curse you.
Pray for those who abuse you.
Give to everyone who asks anything of you with no expectation of return.
Do not judge, do not condemn, forgive, give.
So simple, straightforward, and excruciatingly countercultural and counterintuitive. The paradox of discipleship, am I right?
Now what’s hard about this particular text is that it contradicts itself. Give and you shall receive… but give and expect nothing in return. Love your enemies and do good, and your reward will be great. Are we supposed to do these things and live this way because that’s the nature of the kingdom of God, or because we’re hoping for some sort of unseen divine reward for being compassionate and forgiving and generous? Knowing how Jesus lived, the answer is probably, no.
But this contradictory messaging sets us up for some major theological confusion and complicated expectations about the shape of our own lives and about the nature of God. So, guess I spoke too soon when I said that this wasn’t the kind of text that took you down into the weeds.
And Biblically speaking, if you think what Jesus says is straightforward and simple, you probably aren't fully understanding him. So there has to be something more here, something deeper. Are we really called to live this kind of transactional existence, trying to live honestly and generously in the hope of a reward in heaven? Do we do good because we assume that then God will make good things happen to us?
You know by now that my strategy is to look for clues. To read the wider text, to wonder, to pray. To see what the spirit rustles up. And honestly, the part of this text that I can’t stop thinking about, is the last sentence: A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap…
I’ve probably read this a hundred times and never stopped to wonder about what this actually MEANS. So I researched! And this is a reference that would have made a lot of sense to the ancient crowd- this was a practice in marketplaces. In this time, people would have been wearing these cloaks or dresses that, when buying grain, would be used to weigh and measure whatever it was you were buying - barley, wheat, couscous. The would be poured into a lap or pocket, and it would be pressed down, shaken, to make sure you were getting the most grain for your denarius.
This image is so delightfully tangible and kinesthetic. I can almost feel the silky barley or soft, dry lentils running through my fingers. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap.
And this image is what moves me beyond the transactional interpretation of these commandments. If I lean into what I know and love about Jesus Christ, what I begin to understand is that we’re meant to live our lives with the knowledge that our laps are already running over.
He doesn’t say, your portion of barley will be measured out on a digital scale and transferred to a tidy bag for purchase. He says, your pockets will be overflowing. Your skirts are so full that you’ll walk through the marketplace, dribbling wheat all over the place. The birds will follow you. And you’ll move with the grace and confidence of someone who is filled with the knowledge of the presence of God.
So if we can let go of the transactional mindset - the worldview that there is only ever so much goodness and so much grace and you need to hang on to and hoard whatever little scraps you get, the whole story changes. The whole world changes. This is what Jesus is trying to help us see. When we live with big hearts, when we meet evil with generosity, when we let go of judgment and grudges, when we are fiercely compassionate, we make room in our laps for the overflowing portion of God.
These commandments are not transactions, they're not trade-offs. They’re a set of practices that help us to see what is already true - that the love and abundance of God is flowing over us and through us, within and beyond, a good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over.