SOMETHING MORE THAN A KING

Matthew 22:34-46

October 23, 2011 – Rev. Jerry Duggins

 

Three commentaries and four articles on this text later, I remained baffled as to why none of these sources pointed out the most obvious thing about this passage. This would have been fine if any of the sources offered some other interesting line to pursue. No doubt you have heard many sermons on this text, primarily focused on the first section dealing with the two commandments of love. I have nothing new to add to the wealth of what has already been said about this. What interests me, and apparently doesn’t interest anyone else, is the observation that Jesus has some seriously disturbed relationships here.

 

Maybe you recall last week where the Pharisees and Herodians attempt to trap Jesus into saying something that will reduce his credibility with the people. “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor or not?” When Jesus’ answer turns aside the trap, the Sadducees, a sect within Judaism that did not believe in resurrection, step forward with a question that they think will stump Jesus and compromise his influence with some of the people. And when Jesus turns that aside with an answer that astounds the crowd, this lawyer steps forward to ask Jesus a question. You should note that the Greek word for “ask” used here carries with it a connotation of antagonism. “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?”

 

The Pharisees, Sadducees and Herodians do not like each other, but they come together here in a shared dislike of Jesus. Maybe that doesn’t seem like such a big deal to you. These are the groups that will lead the opposition to Jesus resulting very shortly in his death. Of course we’re not surprised, but here’s the thing. Jesus has to take some responsibility for setting it up. Upon arriving in Jerusalem, he has a very impolitic outburst in the temple, disrupting business and suggesting that the religious establishment had turned the temple grounds into an unholy enterprise. As if this were not enough he then begins to criticize its leaders both overtly and through parables. These are fellow Jews, brothers and sisters in the faith that he confronts in a very indiscrete manner. Clearly Jesus missed the course on conflict resolution. There doesn’t appear to be any effort to understand before criticizing. Winning the theological contest did not improve the relationship any. He may have silenced the opposition, but this only made them more determined to seek a permanent solution to the problem of Jesus.

 

So Jesus had some serious relationship problems. It’s tempting to take this observation and use it in some self-justifying ways. Isn’t it? When someone is unhappy with you at church because of something you said or did? When you feel that the Bible speaks very clearly on a particular issue and the leaders don’t seem to take it seriously? It can be very difficult to sort out the difference between speaking the truth and adopting a martyr complex.

 

We need to be very careful here because churches are full of controversy and all the various perspectives on an issue would love to claim Jesus for their side. But there is something in Jesus’ response that is more than a reply to the lawyer’s question. There is something that addresses the heart of the controversy, something that speaks to the broken relationship.

 

Most commentators on this text remark on the way in which Jesus’ summary of the law and subsequent question silence his opponents, but I think they also offer some wisdom for Matthew’s readers.

 

In the first place, his summary of the law invites us to ask the question: Do our words or actions flow from our love of God and neighbor? “On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets,” says Jesus. When we are not at peace with brothers and sisters in Christ, this summary calls each of us to self-examination. We have first our own words and actions to judge here. Perhaps we have spoken the truth, but have we done so “in love?”

 

Unfortunately, the summary lacks something in terms of specificity. We are much better at self-justification than we are at self-examination. It is often not difficult to read our actions as moved by love. Loving God with all our heart, soul and mind and our neighbor as ourselves leaves a lot of room for interpretation.

 

Ironically, the ignored part of this text, Jesus’ question, gives us something more concrete. It seems like an obscure theological question: “How is it that David refers to the Messiah as Lord when he is in fact David’s son?” I’ve read this text countless times, wondered at the relevance and meaning of such a question. Who really cares? Shouldn’t we go back and talk more about love?

 

And yet this time, when I read this passage in light of Jesus’ poor relationship with the other religious leaders, I finally understood that his question cuts to the heart of the controversy. What sort of person is the Messiah? And what are our expectations of the Messiah? The Herodians weren’t looking for a Messiah. They already had and supported a king. The Pharisees had no need for a king. They had the law. The Sadducees would have been satisfied with a king along the lines of David, a king who secured their political autonomy. None of them were looking for a Messiah like Jesus. None of them were looking for someone who called them to examine their own heart, to consider the integrity of their faith. Their expectations stood at the root of their animosity toward Jesus. Their expectations led them to a misunderstanding of the Messiah in general and got in the way of their seeing Jesus as Lord and Savior.

 

What sort of savior are we looking for? The answers are as various in the church today as they were in the synagogue when Jesus walked this earth. Some look to a Jesus of their heart, a savior who offers forgiveness and entry into heaven when they die. Some look to a Jesus with great ethical insight, a savior who can teach us the right things to do. Some look to a Jesus of great social conscience, a savior who calls for transformation of the many injustices in life. Some restrict Jesus to private spheres of life, barring him from the arenas of politics, vocation and the economy.

 

These leaders were trying to trap Jesus, to embarrass him, to discredit him… before they understood what he was about. They were never going to understand Jesus because they began with criticism. That’s why Jesus had such a poor relationship with them. That’s why we sometimes get into trouble with our relationships, even relationships in the church. We criticize before trying to understand.

 

Jesus could be so much more than he is for each of us. We let our hopes and expectations govern the way we see him. We let our preferences dictate the way we see others.

 

But what if we open our minds and hearts to let Jesus be more than we’ve let him be so far? What wonderful surprises have we missed by putting him in a box? What grace and peace have we foregone by limiting him to only a few spheres in our lives? What health and healing have we forsaken by using him to serve our personal agendas?

 

I hear in this question of Jesus a call to exercise hospitality toward him, to be open to him and whatever he would do in our lives. We have own ideas about what Jesus might save us from and for, but I wonder if those ideas don’t get in the way of what he would really like to do for us?

 

Everyone writing in the area of spirituality agrees that being open to God’s leading is essential for a healthy spiritual life. Healthy relationships whether with God or people require this same commitment. Jesus and other people as well are often so much more than we give them credit for.

 

We can, as Jesus’ opposition did, hold our favorite party line or open ourselves to something new, something more, something better than we could ever dream. Amen.