Sunday, February 19, 2023: Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time Leviticus 19:1-2, 17-18 Psalm 103:1-2, 2-4, 8, 10, 12-13 I Corinthians 3:16-23 Matthew 5:38-48 To Love Others as God Has Loved UsA reflection by Jeff Vomund I am getting married this summer. My family’s response has been, shall we say, mixed: ranging from supportive to not attending. No one objects to the relationship itself, only to the fact that I am marrying another man. These objections, by and large, have not been mean spirited, but instead are based on some family members’ sincere understanding of their faith. Even the topic of my wedding and my partner is too uncomfortable for them to discuss. This can have the effect of making me feel isolated and alone when I am with them. To be silent for the comfort of others is a sacrifice that I have chosen to make, and for now I believe it’s the best one for our family. But that doesn’t make it less dehumanizing. It can be tempting to detail in my head a catalogue of all the ways my family’s theological reasoning is wrong, to stack up and display in the privacy of my mind how they are using God as an excuse not to love, to shake my head at the use of religion as a shield for homophobia and bigotry. Although there is truth in each of those assertions, those mental exercises in self-righteousness get me nowhere. Further, today’s readings do not invite such examination of others’ motives and behaviors. (Darn it!) Instead, the passage from Leviticus invites me not to hold a grudge or bear hatred in my heart. The gospel reminds me that followers of Jesus are not to repay being hurt with hurtful behaviors, and to love even when I am feeling persecuted. It can be so tempting to dwell on how others wrong us, but the Scriptures instead ask, “What is a loving response to this treatment?” What does love look like in the context of family members who love me but are not able to love me as I am? To be clear, I am in no way suggesting that the gospel advocates we stay engaged in toxic or abusive relationships. At my age and at the distance I live from my family (and with the benefit of some great counseling and spiritual direction over the years), I do not feel unsafe or in harm’s way, what I feel is unloved – which is precisely where today’s gospel kicks in. What does a loving response look like when one does not feel well loved? So often we limit this passage to praying for people we don’t like, ignoring an insult, or perhaps not participating in gossip: all good things. But I think Jesus asks a more daunting question: are we willing to love freely those people who put conditions upon their love for us? I am not excusing codependence or letting oneself be taken advantage of, but instead asking about my freedom – my willingness – to be generous and kind to others even when I do not feel they have treated me accordingly. To me, THAT kind of freedom – to love freely those who I do not feel have loved me in such a way – is at the heart of Jesus’ greatest Sermon and thus at the heart of what it means to be a disciple. We are challenged to love others as we would have them love us, but we generally love others as they have in fact loved us. To get beyond this tit-for-tat exchange of slights is the ultimate challenge of Jesus’ preaching. To be free to love based on one’s God-given dignity and not to have love constrained by another’s inability to recognize that dignity – this, to me, is what Jesus preaches and models. I am not suggesting that I am always (or often … or ever completely…) successful at this endeavor, but rather that staying open to its challenge feels constitutive of authentic discipleship. From the perspective of Jesus’ Sermon, what is grace if not the capacity to love those freely who offer us only conditional concern? I wish I could offer a clear mechanism on “how” to do this, but alas, I am still trying to learn how to love like this myself. My only path is to turn, again and again, to these words of Jesus, opening my heart and my mind that they might lead me to new possibilities and new freedom. I try to love freely. I fall short. I examine my thoughts and actions and try to love more like Jesus’ the next time. My goal is to consistently show others a love that is at least a bit more proximate to the love God offers all of us: to find the freedom to love not as I have been loved by others but as I have been loved in God. And – grounded in having received a love that is as equitable as sunshine – I hope, despite my failings, not to tire of shedding the light of love on whoever comes my way – even on those who, in God’s name, refuse to see that love in me. Isn’t that exactly what Jesus did? And thus, isn’t that the vocation to which each of us is called? |