When I order something from Amazon and they ask for my address I write 2907 S. Wabash. In Marianos when someone wonders why I shop there I say, Oh, I’m close: at 29th and Wabash. On the Fourth of July when I am in Millennium Park for the Independence Day concert if someone should ask where I lived I’d say, Southside. If I go out to Arlington Park and someone inquires about my home I say, Chicago. When visiting my cousins back in Maryland and they say “where are you now?” I respond, “Illinois.” While on the Camino in Spain I would tell people I was from the States. And no doubt, if I should ever bump into ET I would say I was from planet earth. I’m talking about the same place each time but who I am connecting with has a way of determining where I am.
Determining who we connect with lies at the heart of Jesus’ very challenging words from the Sermon on the Mount. In fact, when we first hear it Jesus seems to set before us an impossible ideal. “When someone strikes you on one cheek, turn the other one as well.” Go the second mile. “Give to the one who asks of you” – even the shirt off your back. “Love your enemies.” Who can live that way, you might ask. Actually, we are already living that way. Any parent of a teen-ager has had to “turn the other cheek” any number of times. As their children grow into their adult selves they often say and do hurtful things. Parents don’t give up at that point but turn the other cheek and continue to work with their teens. Many of us have brothers or sisters or other family members that we go the second mile for. They get themselves in over their head and we help to bail them out even when it seems to cost the shirt off our back. We give when they ask. As for loving our enemies – even Nancy Pelosi reminded us that as Catholics we are not supposed to hate anyone. As Dr. King observed, darkness is not driven out by more darkness but by light. Hate is not driven out by more hate but by love. One of the greatest aspects of the African-American heritage is the willingness of black folk to forgive the sheer hell that white America afflicted on them for four hundred years.
The problem we have in living out the commandments of Jesus stems from the very human tendency to divide the world up into “us and them.” We turn the other cheek and go the second mile with family members because they are part of “us.” But “them” – we don’t want to turn the other cheek for them. Democrats are one sort and Republicans another. White folk are not like black folk. Immigrants are other than we are. And, yes, Cub fans are different from Sox fans. Jesus wants us to understand that in the eyes of God those difference are no more significant that blonde hair or brown eyes. God makes the sun rise on the bad and the good. God causes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust. The challenge before us is to extend our sense of connectedness to include even those we now consider as “other.” When we do that, the impossible ideal that Jesus holds out for us becomes possible. There is no other. We are all children of God. We don’t turn our back on those who are our own.
All of this helps us to understand the commandment of Jesus that ends this passage: “Be perfect just as your heavenly Father is perfect.” At this point we might want to throw up our hands and say “Too late. I’m already imperfect. I can never fulfill that commandment.” What is Jesus really saying? I recently came across a piece of kintsugi pottery. There is a thousand year old tradition in Japan of making fine porcelain. When a porcelain bowl breaks it is repaired by joining the broken pieces together with lacquer mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum, The seams where the break was are not covered over but highlighted. The repaired bowl is considered even more beautiful than the original. The scars of a kintsugi bowl say that the object had a history that is worth celebrating. When Jesus says “be perfect” he is not saying “be flawless.” (As an aside even God seems to mess up every now and then. Have you ever seen a platypus?) What Jesus is saying is that we are called to be like God who includes everyone in the bowl of divine love.
But it ain’t easy. My kintsugi bowl leaks a bit. Am I supposed to give to every panhandler who asks when I am downtown? Should I turn to the other cheek to that bully who keeps using the N- word? When my brother has wasted what I gave him before do I really have to give more when he comes to borrow? Widening our circle of care is a process which requires lots of prayer and discernment. Jesus is telling us that the best response to any given situations is determined because the other is not other but is, in fact, the we of me.
A story: the warlord sent his general to the neighboring city with the instruction: destroy our enemies. I want our enemies wiped off the face of the earth. Do whatever you must to ensure that there is not one enemy left. After some time the warlord went to the conquered territory and found the city gate open. Much to his surprise the general was sitting at a giant banquet with his soldiers and the townspeople all enjoying themselves. The warlord was irate. I told to you eliminate our enemies. But sire, answered the general, I did as you instructed. These are not our enemies anymore. They are our friends.
