October 3, 2021
Text:
Mark 9:38-50
James 3: 2-5
In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus points to “hardness of heart” in the Pharisees as the reason why Moses wrote the law about divorce and a man’s permission to write a certificate of divorce for a woman. Where God-created bonds are broken, that’s where formal laws and rights enter in. In my own experience, I had resort to the formality of laws and courts to try to resolve a painful and unhappy relationship with my first wife. This Gospel reads as something that both challenges and convicts me, but also asks me to become my best self, to be allowed to approach with the open-heartedness of a child to seek Jesus’ blessing. The original sense of “blessing” is “kneeling,” but it also carries the gift of God’s promise, benefit and surprising renewal and restoration.
As we read the Gospel today, there appears nothing unusual about Jesus taking on the Pharisees by addressing how the original sacred bonds of relationship, the ways we leave our family of origin to embrace our family of choice. According to Jesus, that choosing is “blessed by God”—"What God has joined together let no one separate.” The Pharisees test truth by what’s “lawful” or what’s “permitted.” Jesus refocuses and reframes the conversation on what’s “joined” “from the beginning of creation,” where “two become one flesh.” Jesus is all about attachment, bonding from the heart. This depth connection exudes evidence of our created Blessing.
Then, in the house with the disciples, when they ask Jesus again, he addresses the act of divorce and re-marriage as “adultery.” Strangely, the absolute prohibition of divorce is relaxed in Mark, according to theologians. Here, it’s based on how you, “see with your heart,” consistent with, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
How we “see” one another, welcome one another, bless and touch one another, determines our bond and love for one another. Most importantly, it’s got to be mutual. In the house, with the disciples, Jesus points to how the same act of adultery applies both to how a woman treats a husband and how a man treats his wife. Jewish law, as well as Greek or Roman law, would not readily recognize adultery was committed against a wife, only a husband. Adultery was seen as an offense against the rights of the husband, primarily. Jesus is advocating for equal rights of both parties, based on the bonds of creation and the eyes of the heart. Jesus uses the same unusual word, “adultery,” porneia in the Greek, to explain the violation of the bond both ways—partner to partner, an audacious idea which would have sounded strange to Jesus’ audience. His disciples may have thought it revolutionary, expansive of the possibility of human loving.
Similar to women, children were thought of as having no rights under the law. What follows in Mark is the intense scene of the disciples “speaking sternly” to those bringing children to Jesus. The scripture says Jesus was “indignant” about the disciples acting like the children did not have permission to be touched and blessed by him. We might imagine the disciples were perhaps exercising their own “command and control” authority over the situation, a kind of crowd control they may have justified through loyalty or duty—a hardness of heart to protect Jesus from those less important ones. Children came “that he might touch them,” so to convey a blessing or benefit. It was only in the prior chapter of Mark—when disciples argue about who shall be first and last—that Jesus places a child in their midst after saying, “Whoever wants to be first must be last and servant of all.” With the child standing in among them, he says, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” Get that? We welcome not just a child, but rather a child who represents Jesus, and welcome Jesus who represents God. This may put into context Jesus’ “indignation” at the disciples’ stern talk against the children.
In the text for today, Jesus halts the command and control defiance with a precept about Belonging: “do not stop them, for it is to such as these the Kingdom of God belongs.” Especially in this context, it makes sense to use the phrase “Kin-dom of God,” because it removes some of the royal, domination consciousness of King-language, and moves us towards a sense of family belonging and togetherness. Then, further restraining the disciples’ stern talk, Jesus makes another point about Receptivity: “Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the Kin-dom of God as a little child will not enter it.” The disciples are “Othering” the children, and Jesus breaks the negative spell of control with his own indignation, with which he asserts Belonging and Receptivity as the way to enter the family of God’s power.
Othering as a Way Alienation and Rejection
How is the Kin-dom of God received as a child receives the blessing of Jesus? That is the path of being together, after all, belonging and acceptance as we are, in God’s Family. With the willingness to receive love. Affection & humility amplify teachabiliy & learning. We’ll get to that question, but there’s a harsher, more realistic question we must honor first: How do we recognize our own hard-heartedness in action, in “Othering” those around us? Permit me to tell 2 brief stories on myself:
I’m in a hurry, as usual, in the local Trader Joe’s Market. I’m reaching into a dairy cooler for butter.
I say to the large woman of color standing in front of the butter, “Excuse my boarding house reach,” as I move into her space, reach across her, grab the butter, and lean back.
“No. I won’t excuse you!” she says.
“What?” I ask. “You wouldn’t understand!” she retorted strongly. I looked at her in silence. She pierced me with hurt, angry eyes. I walked away.
I had not seen Julia, my daughter, for months in 1997. There had been a restraining order taken out by my ex-wife, so I could not come to the house to pick up the kids, and they had refused to visit my new apartment. I’m really frustrated. It’s my Right, according to the Final Divorce paperwork, to have regular visitation. I realize I’m upset, so I consult with two women I consider wise that Sunday afternoon after the 8th Day service at the Potter’s House, Gail Arnall and Carol Bullard-Bates. Should I insist on my visitation rights and ask the police to enforce the order? They both tell me NOT to do what I am planning. I am determined to have my right to see my daughter, if not my son also, and leave. On that Sunday afternoon, I go to the local police station, present my Final Divorce paperwork to the Sergeant, and he states to me: “You expect me to enforce this court order this afternoon?” “Yes,” I respond. The Police Sergeant orders that I go to my apartment, four miles away, and wait for them to bring my daughter. I go home and wait for more than an hour. I am about to call the sergeant to follow-up and see what happened. Suddenly, there is a very loud knock on the door. It shocks me. I open the door right away, and there stands Julia, visibly shaken, with the Sergeant and another Police Officer standing beside her. The Sergeant asks in a very loud voice, “Is this your daughter?!” Julia winces. I state, “It is.” Unfortunately (I later realize), I thank them for bringing Julia for visitation. The police quickly leave. “Please, come in and see my apartment.” Then, I say, “Sit down, you look really upset!” Then, Julia tells me the harrowing story of being picked up at home by the police and NOT being told why. She is ordered into the back of the police car and not spoken to at all. The police tell her nothing about the request of her father, the court order or visitation. After the long ride to the apartment, she believed she might be arrested or jailed. She’s scared, trembling and shaking, while telling me of the awful, compelled transport. I try to console her. I get her some water. I tell her about going to the police station to help get my rights to visit with her, because I miss her so much and love her. I was determined to see her, but I did not want to hurt her or to have the police hurt her by being so silent and forceful. I said I was sorry for what she had been through, but I was determined to see her. I got her something more to drink. I asked her if she needed anything else. She said she just needed some space. “Is this space all right?” “Yes,” she said. “I will leave you here, then,” I said, and go into my bedroom, yielding and giving her the living room, dining room and kitchen of the basement apartment. “If you need anything, let me know, I’ll be right here.” She nodded. I went into the bedroom and closed the door. I left her alone in the living room and prayed in the bedroom. A half-hour later, I came out to check on her. She was gone, and the patio door was slightly ajar. She had silently run away to a nearby shopping center, called her mother (I found out later), and been picked up to go back home! Realizing she’d “escaped” my visitation, I felt more alone than ever at the injury I’d inflicted on both Julia and myself, both of which felt unforgivable.
These are the kinds of micro-aggressions (reaching for rights to butter in a grocery store) and macro-aggressions (reaching for rights for visitation) that stand as deeply hard-hearted efforts for perceived, individual rights. But, they also cause deep hurt. The rights of the woman of color in front of me in the dairy case and the rights of my daughter were not fully considered. Like the “command and control” attitude of the disciples preventing children from coming to Jesus, I was being forceful in getting what I wanted without regard to the “Othering” I was doing. My behavior revealed internalized racism and White superiority that I have clearly not overcome. On reflection, it has brought home what “Othering” really is: alienating others, justifying their mistreatment based on perceived differences and preferred rights. It’s critical to internalize and reflect on the costs of “Othering,” since the emotional toll it takes on the perpetrator and victim are both great, and multiply in many forms. Think of all the ways Othering takes place societally, governmentally, professionally, racially, religiously, interpersonally, in families, friendships and faith communities.
The core of it is intolerance — and even hatred — for harmony and togetherness. When we Other, differences are used to be the basis for exclusion or the negation of another’s humanity. It’s an automatic, arousal-state rejection and reaction — the reptilian brain in action of Fight/Flight/Freeze--which immediately judges and organizes an “Us/Them” distinction, with hostility to the unfamiliar or unknown. (For recent examples of this, see Netflix Movies “Marshall” about an early Thurgood Marshall case of presumed assault taken in Connecticut, or “Loving” about the origins Supreme Court rulings on “Mixed-race Marriage” in Virginia.)
On a website, OtheringandBelonging.org, Othering is defined: “Othering is a term that not only encompasses the many expressions of prejudice on the basis of group identities, but we argue that it provides a clarifying frame that reveals a set of common processes and conditions that propagate group-based inequality and marginality.” Yes. “Group-based inequality and marginality.” This “Othering” mode of operation is a scourge we Whites can use to justify our “separate and supposedly equal” behavior in — but that we’re all trapped by. It’s the same trap that made Jesus indignant about how the children were being treated; Jesus had something quite opposite than “Othering” on his mind in the Kin-dom of God: Belonging and Receptivity. Jesus defined the powerful and far-reaching Kin-dom of God or Kin-dom of Heaven as:
- Where “time is fulfilled, …at hand” where we can “change our minds and believe the Good News,”
- Where it is owned by the “poor in Spirit” as “blessed” ones,
- Where “persecuted” are “blessed for righteousness’ sake,”
- And “truly,” we cannot enter unless “received” “like a child.”
This arousal response, whether intentional or mistaken, this furious “Othering” comes from our whole body. It’s a violation of human justice, just as the Epistle addresses in the holding up the demands of a teacher:
For all of us make many mistakes. Anyone who makes no mistakes in speaking is perfect, able to keep the whole body in check with a bridle. If we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we guide their whole bodies. Or look at the ships: though they are so large that it takes strong winds to guide them, yet they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs. So also, the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits. (James 3:2-5).
Paul goes further, describing the tongue as a “fire” which is capable of “setting the great forest ablaze,” “staining the whole body,” “sets on fire the cycle of nature (or wheel of birth).”
Paul exhorts us that the tongue, the words we use to “Other,” is literally untamable in its wild nature. Paul addresses the “Othering Heart:”
But if you have bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not be boastful and false to the truth. Such wisdom does not come down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, devilish. For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind.
We see ample evidence of that every day in the news. “From the same mouth come both blessings and cursings.” Paul gives us a way out of the Fire of the Tongue at the end of James 3, by focusing on two kinds of Wisdom: “Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom.” He continues to explain Gentleness and Wisdom at the chapter’s close—“But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace.” Gentleness and Peaceable Wisdom.
The Transformed Heart
What does Belonging and Receptivity look and feel like? Gentleness and Wisdom. I think it looks like the kinds of ways we learn to change and thrive, despite the threat, reality and sometimes trauma of being “Othered.” Through such transformation, we develop resilient hearts. We recognize resilient hearts in others and see it develop. They are the kind of resilient hearts Karen described her family developing in the woods, holding and keeping land, bartering, restoring and holding value in themselves by having a safe and trusted place in their family. This is resilience: a trusted, safe place for relationship to grow strong, acceptance of oneself and others, independence and competence to thrive, a healthy balance of potential and limits, with discipline and structure on a path of growth.
One construct for “heart resilience” of a transformed heart is the post-traumatic growth (after trauma) of psychology. This psychological resilience fits much of what Paul says in James 3 about gentleness and peaceful wisdom, as we reflect on how it meets basic needs and demands in the face of identity-robbing pain and loss of trauma. These five features of resilience explain why more people do not succumb to the anxiety and depression of post-traumatic stress:
- Greater appreciation of life and changed sense of priorities;
- Warmer, more intimate relationships with others;
- A greater sense of personal strength;
- Recognition of new possibilities or paths for one's life;
- Spiritual development: search for greater meaning and purpose of life
And why does the heart have to break open to cultivate the kind of openness that provides growth and expansion? Shared affection & humility amplify gentleness and wisdom, teachabiliy & learning.
I close with a poem by Antonio Machado, “Last Night,” which points to the transformative way to enter the Kin-dom of God—from within. “The Kingdom of God is within” (Luke 17:20-21) despite wounds and failures.
“Last Night”
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I said: Along which secret aqueduct,
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have never drunk?
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.
Last night as I slept,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that it was God I had
here inside my heart.
--Antonio Machado