How To Be Perfect without the Pressure

7^th Sunday after the Epiphany

February 19, 2017

Matthew 5:38-48

Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xde4z8ikClI

            One of the kids’ current favorite movies is an animated comedy that came out in 2012 called “Wreck-It Ralph.” It’s one of those kids’ movies that also has a lot for the parents or adults who watch it with the kids. Wreck-It Ralph is part of an arcade video game which has 8-bit graphics, a throwback to 1980s video games with cameos by Sonic the Hedgehog and Pacman and Q*Bert. Ralph is the bad guy in his game, though, and he’s tired of being the bad guy. 

The good guy is Fix-It Felix, Jr, which is the name of the game, and when he fixes things he gets freshly baked pies and a medal at the end of the game; whereas Ralph gets thrown off the roof into a mud pit. Ralph doesn’t mind that, because it’s part of the game. What he minds is that even when the arcade is closed and there’s no game going, the other characters in his game still ostracize him and treat him as the bad guy. They can’t see him as anything else. When they throw a party for the 30^th anniversary of their game, they don’t even invite Ralph. Fix-It Felix is the hero, even though Felix would have nothing to fix if Ralph didn’t wreck things in the first place. The storyline of the movie is how Ralph learns to be more than just a bad guy, and how the other characters of his game learn that there’s more to him than just wrecking things.

            I mentioned last week that the previous Friday I did a memorial service for a member of our community, and how that person wasn’t a great guy in some ways; he was an alcoholic. Yet his family also stressed to me how generous and giving he was, living out what Jesus says in our Gospel reading this morning: “When someone asks you for something, give it to him; when someone wants to borrow something, lend it to him.”[1] Jesus says to “Live generously.”[2] And that is what this person did. He wasn’t perfect, he didn’t have it all together; but he had that part right. I mentioned the service to a colleague of mine this past week and he told me that I got it right because I saw this guy as a whole person. The alcoholism was not the whole story on his life. The generosity was not the whole story on his life. They were both two parts of it; the good and the bad. And we all have that in each of us. We all have things we do well, teachings of Jesus that we excel at; we all have parts that we get right. And we all have parts that we struggle with. And all of that together makes up who we are.

            You see, who we are in our worst moments is not all of who we are. Who we are in our best moments is not all of who we are, either. Any snapshot of you is not going to tell the whole story, and that’s important to remember. Any title or role you have is not the whole story. You are more than the sum of all of these parts. You are not only a teacher or a mom or a caregiver or a driver or a cook. If you remember Psalm 139, “You are fearfully and wonderfully made.”[3] God intricately weaved you together in the depths of the earth.[4] God knows you better than you know yourself. And you can’t just look at one part of your life and say that’s who you are, that’s what defines you. There’s more to you than that.

            A link came up in my Facebook memories this past week that I had shared two years ago, and some of you read it and liked it two years ago. It was an open letter to 20-somethings who were caught in the anxiety of perfectionism and over-achieving. Generally speaking, we’re teaching our young people that they have to be perfect, and not only that but join the perfect sports team, go to the perfect school, find the perfect mate, do the perfect job. We’re setting the bar all the way up here, and it’s creating a lot of anxiety when we fail. I can remember in my 20s struggling with the idea of soulmate and, when dating a new guy, wondering “is he the one?” There is a lot of anxiety and pressure over this. The newest parenting book I’m now reading is called “The Gift of Failure,” reminding us parents that it’s okay for our children to fail, because that’s how they learn and how they become independent and how they become creative thinkers and contributors to society. We’ve got to let go of that perfectionism for our children and for ourselves. None of us is perfect. And what we think in our least perfect moments, what we think when we’re in the pit of despair, is not the whole picture.

            Part of that letter from Facebook says,

“We’re tempted to believe there is no cause for hope. We’re tempted to believe that at stake in every relationship is the possibility of finding our soulmate. We’re tempted to believe that the dissolution of intimate relationships means cruel rejection of our identity rather than deliverance from a potentially unhealthy union. The clock ticks, and we name each tick a curse rather than thanking God for the gift of time. We fail to see the world the way it really is.”

And it continues,

“Beloved child of God, set your eyes on the truth about the world and determine to live in that world, and not in the false world in which despair is possible. That’s not the real world. None of the stories we tell ourselves in our despair are truthful descriptions of the world. The truth about the world is that you do not have to become because you already are. God has already declared you worthy. You don’t need to achieve that. You simply need to embrace it. Luxuriate in it. And allow yourself the time and space to learn what it means to live as one already declared precious by God.”[5]

            God has already declared you God’s child, beloved and accepted by God. Wonderfully made by God. Fully known by God. Important to God. So all this striving, trying to be perfect, sometimes down to the minutiae of saying the perfect thing and wearing the perfect clothes, it’s tiresome. It’s tiring and it wastes our time and energy. We’re not perfect. To say so is to lie. Yet to give up hope and despair is also a lie. We are not who we may think we are at our worst moments. There’s more to us than that.

            So, all that being said, what are we supposed to do with the last verse of our Gospel passage today? It’s usually translated as, “Be perfect, therefore, just as your heavenly Father is perfect.” There are two modern translations that do not say that. One says, “Therefore, just as your heavenly Father is complete in showing love to everyone, so also you must be complete.”[6] Yet even being told to be complete can add undue pressure. The other translation is the one I put for our call to worship this morning, because I think that translation we can work with a bit easier. It says, “You’re kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you.”[7] Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you. God is generous and gracious towards us. God gives us everything we need, and then some. God is kind, compassionate, considerate, and good to us. Therefore, we are to behave that way and with that attitude toward others. That’s how we live in to the perfection God calls us to, that’s how we fulfill the Jesus’ teaching to be perfect, how the other translations put it.

            In Methodism, we put grace in three categories. Prevenient grace that comes before we even know we need God, that allows to get to know God. Saving grace, or justifying grace, which makes us right with God through Jesus saving us on the cross. And the last one is sanctifying grace, or perfecting grace. One of the questions asked at ordination is do you believe you will be made perfect in this lifetime, and you’re supposed to answer yes. It’s a hope, it’s something not yet realized, it’s the goal we seek, as we try to become more like Christ. As United Methodists, we believe we are going on to perfection. What that looks like is generous and gracious living, being generous and gracious toward others, because God is generous and gracious toward us. It’s kind of like that other bible verse where we’re told to love each other, because God first loved us. God loves us, therefore, we are to love each other. God is complete in showing love to everyone, God is perfect, God is generous and gracious toward everyone. Therefore, we are to be the same way. With God’s help, we can do it.

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[1] Matthew 5:42, GNT

[2] Ibid., MSG

[3] Psalm 139:14a

[4] Psalm 139:15b

[5] http://livingchurch.org/covenant/2015/02/11/an-open-letter-to-twenty-somethings/

[6] Matthew 5:48, CEB

[7] Ibid., MSG

Clean the Windows

5^th Sunday after the Epiphany

February 5, 2017

Isaiah 58:1-12; Matthew 5:13-20

            This passage from Isaiah is one of my all-time top favorite Scripture passages. There was a time when it was my top favorite. It was how God got me to Nicaragua. It convicted me so thoroughly of the need to serve others and not focus on myself or my wants. There’s a lot in there, and this morning, we’re going to unpack it from the end.

            The end is this beautiful description of wholeness and healing and restoration and redemption. Isaiah says, “then your light shall break forth like the dawn and your healing shall quickly appear… The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.” Doesn’t that sound lovely? Light, healing, strong bones, a well-watered garden, a spring of water that will never run dry. Rebuilt ruins, foundations raised up, breaches, gaps, chasms, repaired and overcome. “You will be called Mender of Broken Walls, Restorer of Livable Streets.” Who doesn’t want to be called that? Who doesn’t want to fix what’s broken? We’re not talking about fixing what ain’t broken; we’re talking about fixing what is broken. We all know things that are broken. Relationships, systems, communications, probably at least one thing here at church, no matter how hard our trustees work. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to fix things? Wouldn’t it be nice to have everything working properly? Anyone disagree? Good, because that’s the whole premise of this sermon, is that you do want health and wholeness and restoration. If you like things broken and left broken, I’ll see if I can find a counselor for you ;-)

            So, that’s the end goal, that’s the vision. Things made right. Breaches repaired. Streets restored. Ruins rebuilt. With plenty of water and light, two of the things necessary for life. How do we get there? Isaiah talks about two categories of actions, two types of things to do.

            The first one is what got me to Nicaragua. “Loose the bonds of injustice, undo the thongs of the yoke, let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke… Share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin… offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted.” That is directly what God calls us to do. Isaiah is speaking for God here. These are specific things God wants us to do. And the list should sound familiar. It’s not too different from what Jesus says in Matthew 25 about visiting the sick and those in jail, clothing the naked, welcoming the stranger, feeding the hungry, and giving something to drink to those who are thirsty. This list in Isaiah is not any different. And the good news about a list like these is that there’s usually at least one thing we’re good at or that comes naturally to us. Maybe you’re good at visiting, or you’re good at feeding the world, or you’re good at giving away your clothing, or feel especially called to serve with persons who have lost their homes. There’s enough on this list that you probably pretty regularly do at least one of these activities. Maybe you even do two or three of them on a regular basis. My challenge to you is to try one that you don’t normally do, one that doesn’t come naturally or easy for you. You could even make it into your Lenten discipline, since we’re only a few weeks ago from the beginning of Lent. If you haven’t been involved in Streets of Hope, maybe it’s time to try. If you noticed your closet or dresser is bulging, maybe it’s time to go through your clothes and give away the ones you don’t wear or don’t need anymore. If you don’t often go visiting, we have a list of members who are sick and shut-in who would love to see you. If you tend to be shy and not welcome a strange person, perhaps it’s time to put yourself out there to be friendly. Know what you’re good at and where your strengths are. And be aware of which part of that list makes you shy away and say, “please don’t ask me.” Consider giving that activity a try. At least once. Sometimes we get to stay in our comfort zones; sometimes God calls us out of them. And if you haven’t been out of your comfort zone in a while, then it’s time. Visit the sick and those in jail, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, and feed the hungry. It’s really not a very hard list; it just requires you to put in a little elbow grease and intentionality to make it happen.

            That’s the first category of things to do to bring about healing and wholeness and restoration. Pay attention to and spend time with those in need, and provide for those needs when it’s within your ability to do so. By focusing on others, you will then accomplish the second group of things, which is a list of what not to do: quarrel, fight, hit each other violently, oppress your employees, do whatever you want, point fingers, pass the blame, don’t take responsibility, only look at after yourself, and speak evil. It’s quite a list, isn’t it? And just like the first one, I’m sure there’s one of those sins we commit more often than the rest. Do you have a quick temper? Do you think you earned the right to do whatever you want? Are you quick to point out others’ shortcomings? Do you get a kick out of stirring the pot and creating drama? God says to “remove the yoke from among you.” What is holding you back? What is tying you down? What has you, figuratively or literally, in chains? And what is tying us down as a church? What’s preventing us from reaching full restoration and health? We’ve made a lot of progress the last three years. I know you felt somewhat abandoned and forgotten and forsaken when I arrived, but you are not. The Conference is paying a lot of attention to us. And they wouldn’t be if we were still doing business as usual like we used to do. But things have changed, and mostly for the better. Change is hard. Healing is hard. Fixing a broken street or a breach in a dam is hard. And it takes time. That’s why we’re not done yet. So, what’s the next yoke to break? What’s the next chain to break that’s holding us down? I know not everyone loves me, so perhaps your answer is me. Or perhaps you can easily identify something else. Give it some thought, give it some prayer.

            “Breaking chains” was actually the prompt of my writing this past week. I have a friend from seminary who was in a spiritual formation group with me called “Writing as a Spiritual Discipline.” She was a year behind me and ever since she graduated, we still write together once a week. She texts me a prompt, we both write, and I call her after about twenty minutes and we share both our writing and what’s going on in our lives. With the prayer that it’s helpful and might get ideas going for you, I’ll share a few of the chains I listed this past week when I wrote with her. These are in no particular order, just a stream of consciousness list: sleep-deprivation, disease, unmet expectations, fatigue, overwhelmed, stress of moving in five months, more to do than I can physically do, untimely interruptions, and lack of stamina. Those are what I’m struggling with and I ask your prayers to help me with them. If you’d like my prayers as well for something particular, please, just let me know. You should know by now that all you have to do is tell me. And if you put it in writing then I’m less likely to forget it.

            “If you remove the yoke from among you… then your light will shine in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday. The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.” All you have to do is remove the yoke on you and take care of those in need. Easy enough to say, right? Hard work to do. As I mentioned last week when I shared about moving, we do still have work to do. We still have five months together. Let’s keep moving toward that place where “there is no darkness at all. The night and the day are both alike. The Lamb is the light of the City of God. Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.”[1]

For Jesus’ light to shine through, sometimes we have to clean the windows.  Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, visit the sick and those in jail. Quit pointing fingers, quit gossiping, quit putting chains and limits on yourself or on others, don’t speak evil, of anyone. If you can do that, “then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly.” That’s how we work our way to health and wholeness and restoration and rebuilt ruins. That’s how we fix the ruins. Working together, not against each other. Working out in the open and not in secret. Meeting the needs of people we encounter as we have the ability to do so. Not the desire to do so or the natural tendency to do so, but what’s within your ability. Then Jesus’ light can shine through you, and shine through our church, and others will see Jesus through you. As Jesus said in our Gospel reading this morning, “let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” May it be so with us as well. Amen.

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[1] “I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light,” UMH 206