TOUGH LOVE
Mark 9:38-50
Last Sunday we heard,
Then he took a little child and put it among
them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, "Whoever welcomes one
such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not
me but the one who sent me."
Today the message is stronger and more urgent. It is a
message of tough love:
If any of you put a stumbling block before one of
these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a
great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the
sea. If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better
for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell,
to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble,
cut it off: it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two
feet and to be thrown into hell, And if your eye causes you to
stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God
with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where
the worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.
Even in the most literal of Biblically literal churches,
we don't see people with self-inflicted amputations. Even those
who accept most of the Bible as the literal word of God draw the line
here. The hyperbole used in this message from Jesus is there to
make a point.
Who was Jesus talking to? What was his message and why was it so
harsh?
Putting this passage in context helps us understand it better.
Jesus and the disciples have passed through Galilee and are in
Capernaum. Soon they will venture beyond their familiar home
territory. These are Jesus' last instructions to his disciples before
they begin their journey to Jerusalem and death on the cross for Jesus.
He is telling them that this is serious business. Everything they do
and say from now on will have consequences. They must grow
up. They must practice tough love for themselves and others
tempered with compassion.
Although this message sounds like a threat, I think it is also a
promise that as the disciples work to remove stumbling blocks and to
encourage his little ones, he will be with them. His tough love
is balanced. His serious message is tempered with great love.
The first day of fall arrived this past week. It is always a
bitter-sweet time. The promise of beautiful fall colors is
welcome. But It's also time for the hummingbirds to
head south for the winter. Each year this question arises between
hummer-lovers in Carroll County, "Is it time to take the feeders down
for the year?" Conventional wisdom has always told us that we
need to cut off the food so the hummers will know it's time to begin
their southern migration. It's like tough love. It's painful but
appears to be necessary. I've always hated to do it. The
hummers buzz around where the feeders were--a little confused and very
panicked. Eventually, they give up and head south. I'm
surprised they trust us enough to return the next year after the way
we've treated them!
Now imagine my delight when I read an article this week from the
Oklahoma Department of Wildlife Conservation which defied
conventional wisdom related to taking down your hummingbird
feeders. This article stated that hummingbirds migrate not
because of scarcity of food but because of internal clocks.
Further, the larger, stronger males migrate south first about two weeks
before the smaller females and immature hummers.
Keeping your feeders up a little longer helps strengthen females,
immature hummers and stragglers who lag behind the rest of the birds on
this demanding journey. Also, during this time, it is suggested
that the sugar to water ratio in the feeders be increased from 1:4 to
1:3! So now I can practice some compassion for my favorite
birds! I can soften the toughness of the journey with some
added compassion and love! I no longer have to place stumbling
blocks in the way of my little hummers as an attempt to control their
behavior! Instead I can provide stepping stones for their journey
with a clear conscience.
It's simple to identify the hummer "little ones". They are
literally the smaller females and the immature ones that were born
earlier this year. They are the stragglers--the lone hummers that
for some reason lagged behind the others.
But how do we identify the human little ones when they enter our red
doors or we meet them at Flint Street or at the grocery store or the
farmers' market? They don't appear in bright red t-shirts with
the large letters "L O" on them to indicate they are "little
ones". Sometimes they are large people or they are people who
speak in large voices. At first glance they may appear as if they would
never stumble over anything. Sometimes they are small people who
rarely speak. They tend to go unnoticed. We have no idea if
they struggle with stumbling blocks. Sometimes little ones appear
to be very confident and sure of themselves. We assume that stumbling
blocks are not a problem for them. Sometimes little ones are our
dearest loves; sometimes they are people we don't like; sometimes they
are people we don't see at all because we look right through them.
Because identification of little ones can be so difficult, perhaps it
is best to assume that everyone we know or meet has a bit of the
little one in them. And everyone includes each of us. And
the good news is, we have been given the power and the grace to
practice compassion by not constructing stumbling blocks and by shoving
stumbling blocks aside when we can. We can soften the toughness of the
journey for God's little ones by our choices. We don't have
to place stumbling blocks in the way of anyone in an attempt to control
their behavior! Instead we can offer them stepping stones for
their journey always remembering that the direction and the timing of
their journey is theirs and God's, not ours.
On Labor Day I was at the Flint Street Food Bank doing some preparation
for the meal Marty Johnson and I would serve the next day.
Normally, Flint Street is open on Mondays for distribution of groceries
but because it was Labor Day we were closed. There was a sign
indicating this posted on the door.
As I was working in the kitchen, I thought I heard something but it was
such a soft sound, I ignored it. A few minutes later, I heard
something again. It sounded like a knock so I opened the
door. There stood a pretty rough looking man. He was dirty
and thin. Most of his teeth were missing.
He said, "Are you open?"
In my best Flint Street Lady voice, I replied, "No, it's Labor
Day. We'll be open for lunch tomorrow from 10 to 12:30 and we
will be distributing food again on Wednesday."
He just said, "Oh", and shuffled away.
"Wait!" I yelled. "What do you need?" On reflection, why didn't I
say, "How may I help you?"
But he answered me anyway. "Just a loaf of bread," he mumbled.
I quickly invited him in and told him I could certainly find a loaf of
bread for him. I showed him our big chest freezer full of bread
and invited him to choose a couple of loaves. He did this and
then began to tell me his story.
He had been employed by FEMA and when that job ended, he hadn't been
able to find another one. He couldn't pay his rent so now he was
living in his truck. He had been camping out at night but his
tent leaked and everything he owned was wet. He told me he had a
jar of peanut butter so with the bread he would have enough to
eat. I quickly found some food that would not require cooking and
put it in a bag for him. When I asked if I could do anything else
for him, he asked if I had any instant coffee. I couldn't find
any and he had no way to make regular coffee so I sent him on his
way. I did remember to invite him to lunch on Tuesday.
Later I wished I had made him a pot of coffee for us to share or had
taken him to the Inn Convenience Store to buy both of us a cup of
coffee. I didn't put a stumbling block in his way but I so wish I
had done just a little more to encourage him on his journey. I
haven't seen him since but I hope he has returned to Flint
Street.
Our love and compassion aren't perfect. Sometimes we are tough
when we should be compassionate. Sometimes we stumble or cause
someone else to stumble because our eyes aren't fully open or our minds
are focused on other things or our hearts are hardened. We are still
learning.
As we welcome the stranger who enters our red doors, as we greet those
we know, as we go out into the world, let us choose to offer compassion
instead of stumbling blocks to all the little ones who cross our paths.
Amen.
The Rev. Betsy Porter
St. James’ Episcopal Church
Eureka Springs, AR
September 27, 2009