St. Bartholomew's Episcopal Church

Well, did finish the triathlon. I finished as a good Christian.

Which means I came in last, in my age group.

I learned that I wasn’t very competitive. I passed one person on my bike, and felt guilty about it. “Are you sure you can’t go any faster?” I said, “look, I’ll wait for you.”

During the swim, I just let everyone go first.

Jesus is here talking about violence, and how violence happens. The place where there is the gnashing of the teeth is a place where violence is continuous, chaotic and reliable. Hebrews then describes it, “you have not come to something that can be touched, a blazing fire, and darkness, and of gloom” and mentions Cain and Abel, the first location of human violence in scripture.

Brotherly violence is most of human violence – people next to each other, within families. That’s why people left their neighbors and familes: to get away from the fear that often permeates our blood relationships. With some space, when there is abundance, we have more peace - think of having roomates in too close quarters. But when our resources are limited, and we are confined together, people want to kill each other.

The violence, of course, turns any community upside down. It can consume an entire nation and create many victims.

In Rwanda, for example, the Hutus and Tutsis had lived together for many years. If anything, the differences between the two were essentially constructs of the Belgians. But with just a little bit of encouragement, people are let to slaughter others. It often gives people meaning. One aspect is the urge to be first, to have control, to have power, because the person who is first, who has control, who has power, is the one who can make the rules and break the rules.

One reason the Jews are the people of the law is that they recognize how, without law, societies crumble. Even responsible anarchists recognize that law is powerful – they just object to the state’s role in violence within the construct of law. Law can protect the innocent – and guilty. Law is one place where there is space for the person who has little power. Law can even our the playing field.

The purpose of this is to offer people enough distance to create peace. The law is the law, no matter how you feel, and if we have enough distance, we can discern its proper use. So we’re not getting rid of the law: what Jesus wants to do is etch the most crucial element of the law in our hearts: to love God and our neighbor. Among other things.

In ancient Palestine, the state, however, violent it was, probably wasn’t as omniscient as it is now. No credit checks, no health insurance records, no computers. Violence was much more universal that it is now. So trying to get a handle on the hell violence could create was crucial.

So Jesus says, “strive through the narrow gate.” Have you ever tried to control your emotions? Its hard. We feel angry, and we want to be angry. We feel violent, and its easy to lash out. Yes – feelings are good, but sometimes we need to examine ourselves and see if our desires are just, legitimate and harmful. Get a grip, Jesus says, work a little bit harder, gain a little discipline.

We are fortunate that we have space between us; we can move around; we can recreate ourselves if we need to. We have a state the generally provides the ground rules for people to buy and sell and participate without fear of being murdered. But underneath all of this was many years of violence, of people trying to figure out how to mange that first battle, the slaughter of Abel for divine approval.

Jesus undermines our desire for divine approval. Don’t work for divine approval. Don’t suppose you need to be first in line to heaven. Chances are, you’ll get there, if you have shown some self-control, some distance, some rationality. This ability isn’t the purview of just the wealthy, the prosperous, the spiritually pure. Control is within us, and it is worthwhile.

Hebrews describes it like so:

“We are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe, for indeed our God is a consuming fire.”

Yes- our God is a consuming fire: but a differing form of consuming fire. This is the fire of the holy spirit, which encourages, which listens, which builds, which invites wholeness and peace. When we take on that journey, it becomes available also to others. It is a “new covanent, a better word than the word of Abel.”

A better word than the word of able? What could that be? This is where forgiveness comes in. War continues when victims decide to have vengeance. The people who are last often resent the people who are first, and just a careful look at revolutionary history demonstrates how this happens. The way to peace, the narrow way, is through forgiveness, through taking a step back.

I think one of the questions Jesus is always trying to answer is “what is happening here?” We don’t often look at ourselves and try to figure this out. That is the narrow way that Jesus offers. Instead of just living in the chaotic place of touble, hatred, vengeance and envy and saying these feelings are divine, we take ourselves out of the situation and see it as simply human.

And that, perhaps, is how God is truly working. Rather than Abel and Cain working for God’s affection and Abel being killed from it, crying from the grave, God works through forgiveness rather than casting out. For most of human history, our love of God, our desire for his favor, our envy of the wealth he guides us to create is the cause of mischief. But the way of Christ, of the shared life, of forgiveness, liberates us from all that.

For me, the triathlon wasn’t an experience of wanting to come in first. All I wanted to do is finish. Perhaps this is enough of what the spirit offers, alluded to in Ephesians. God’s work doesn’t assume we will come in first, or that we will gain the riches of the world. It is enough that he leads us to the finish line, safely, and in his arms. The narrow gate means we still have to train.