It’s Scottish pastor, Bible student, and professor William Barclay, again, who writes of the ability to choose to be loving.  We have this ability as a gift in Christ through the Spirit.  Barclay writes of God who gives “the power to love those whom we do not like and who may not like us.”[1]  “[L]ove your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven” (5:44-45).  Children of the Father strive to do as the Father does: “whatever the Father does the Son does also” (Jn 5:19).

The barber was talking about customers who come in with pictures of how they want to look: make me look like that!  Maybe Gale Hines has similar stories.  The barber spoke of customers who come in with a very definite style in mind, only it’s a style with which the barber knows the customer won’t be happy.  How do you tell someone he doesn’t really want what he says he wants?  And if you cut off almost all someone’s hair, because that’s the style he insisted, was adamant that he wanted, and he then berates you and huffs and puffs about it, what do you do?

I guess you learn from experience.  Sometimes you encounter someone you just can’t make happy, someone who is determined to stay unhappy, dissatisfied.  As a businessowner, you have to learn when to encourage someone to try another provider, and then be prepared for additional abuse.  The customer is always right not because he or she is, but because you have bigger interests to consider.

I don’t know why—well, I have some ideas about it—but it seems there are some people who just need someone to tear down.  God help you, if such a person picks you for the privilege.  It’s not much fun being on the receiving end.  And if you start firing back, you know already that isn’t going to douse the fire.  At the end of June, we’re always hoping for just enough rain so that there’s no burn ban in effect for the Fourth of July.  Back about this time last year, some three hundred acres burned outside Damon.  It was no “act of God”: that blaze was man-made, an accident.  I hear there was an even bigger fire out that way, just in the last couple weeks.  It only takes a spark to get a fire going, as the worship song goes: the idea has many relevant applications.  Carry the water with you.  The water is grace.   The water is patience and perseverance.  The water is prayer.  The water is faith.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’  But I tell you, do not resist an evil person.  If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also” (5:38-39).  We-he-hell—I don’t think so!  Nobody better be slapping me on any side of my face!  You hit me; I hit you.  You’ve got to stand up for yourself!  And that’s true.  Jesus isn’t saying let evil people do whatever they want to do to you; he isn’t saying let evil have a field day.  Jesus is saying it matters how you respond.  The disposition of the heart.  Who is in residence, there?  People in the business of customer service know the response matters because their jobs depend upon it.  Christians need to be learning that it matters how one called and claimed by Jesus responds.  A slap to the face is an indignity, to be sure: a physical insult.  When you’re insulted, what should you do?  Instinct isn’t necessarily our best guide: instinct will urge us either to strike back or run away, fight or flight—self-assertion and self-preservation.  I’m not so assertive.  I’m not a fast runner.  What to do?

Jesus seems to be suggesting a third way, the way of the peacemaker, whom Jesus has called blessed.  The way that Jesus suggests looks like the way he pursued, demonstrated: he refused to return abuse for abuse.  Was he insulted?  Oh my, yes!  When the priests and the soldiers physically abused him, beat him—have you ever stopped to think that they were beating God, that God was allowing Himself to be physically beaten?  We can get theologically squeamish here, but in Christ God was among us in the flesh.  God, who tolerates no transgression of His commands, who struck down Uzzah for holding out his hand to steady the ark as it was about to topple off the oxcart, God allowed Himself to be beaten.  He was bruised for our iniquities, and by his wounds we are healed.

Strange as it may seem, Jesus is showing us that the way of healing is also the way of taking the scorn and insults, and refusing to respond with the same.  That’s not unfair; it’s not foolish: it’s the patience, mercy, and grace of God.  It’s maturity.  It’s grace-enabled choice, the choice to be loving.  It’s responsibility to God.  In psychological circles, it also gets called self-differentiation: in difficult situations, you retain the power to choose how you respond.  You must choose.  Jesus chose how he responded.  As we are in Christ, let us now keep striving to become a little more like our Father in heaven.

This doesn’t mean we roll over and passively allow ourselves to be treated shamefully.  We can respond; we are called to respond, as Christ responded.  Our response is prayer.  Our response is faith.  Jesus sought to appeal to the minds and hearts of people.  Jesus rebuked and on one or two occasions even pointed out the folly he saw all around him.  Jesus overturned tables in the Temple.  But Jesus never returned insult for insult, injury for injury.  He had higher matters in view.

We should never put ourselves forward as anyone’s punching bag, and let us also keep in mind that someone who is lashing out, physically, verbally, emotionally, is hurt, wounded, is damaged.  Something is very wrong inside that person’s heart!  Sad and frustrating as it assuredly is, sometimes we’ve got to let the other person get the fight and verbal abuse out so that the real trouble can begin to emerge, the real trouble that really needs attention, Christ attention, Gospel attention.  Again—never let yourself be anyone’s punching bag, physically, verbally, or emotionally, and choose how you will respond.  It’s not fun when you are the one who gets stuck experiencing their ugly.  Pray.  Pray that God would use you in that rotten situation to do some good, be some help, bring some light.

In stressful situations, Jesus calls us to keep ourselves focused upon him: turn your eyes upon Jesus.  He adds another stunning image: “[I]f anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well” (5:40).  Yes, that sounds crazy, weak, and sets a bad precedent.  It also knocks the dynamic off kilter.  Someone sues you.  Your response—give them more than they asked for.  Well, we like the sound of that, maybe, but let’s focus on Jesus, here.  If someone says, “you jerk” and you respond by saying “I like your shirt,” that’s not expected.  The expectation is for resistance, conflict, surging for the big fight.  A key part of Jiu-jitsu is learning how to use the other person’s weight and strength against him.  Doing the unexpected opens up all sorts of possibilities.

People sue when they feel wronged, some way; it’s how some people seek restitution, justice.  Jesus encourages the way of reconciliation—blessed are the peacemakers, blessed are the merciful.  By giving coat as well as shirt, you’re changing the subject and proposing that the two of you quickly get to a more mutually productive, fruitful place.  In legal disputes, the accepted wisdom, as I’ve always heard, is to try to settle out of court.  Settlement is not regarded as any admission of fault.  It’s like a business arrangement: you’re dissatisfied; I have better things to do, so can we reach an agreement?

The person suing is focused on what he or she has coming, what she or he deserves; it’s a self-focus.  Jesus is always cautioning against self-focus: turn your eyes upon Jesus.  Jesus came with a mission and stayed focused on his mission.  When those around him began to lose focus or try to divert his attention, he brought himself and all of them back to focus on the mission.  We probably still too often do all sorts of things with the focus mostly on me, myself, and I.  What should we be doing for Jesus?

Well, we might go the extra mile.  For us, that’s usually a term of praise.  Jesus knows those to whom he was speaking would regard it as a nearly unbearable inconvenience, like getting your property tax assessment.  “If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles” (5:41).  Barclay points out that the verb Jesus uses for “force” is the same verb used in regard to Simon of Cyrene, compelled by the Roman soldiers to carry the cross for part of Jesus’ walk to Golgotha.[2]

We don’t like to feel like someone is forcing us to do something.  Let them do it!  We sometimes expect children to be able to do things that they still ask us to do for them.  I suppose there are times when it’s just that they’re too lazy to do these things for themselves.  I think it’s maybe more often the case that they aren’t yet strong enough, tall enough, or coordinated enough to do these things for themselves successfully.  And there are other times when they just want the connection with an older person, someone who will take time for them and do things for them because children understand quite powerfully that that is part of love: people doing things for those whom they love.  The compulsion of love; if love drives us, let it drive us indeed; let love drive us all the way.

Now, I don’t go to Walmart for the exceptional customer service, and it amuses me how I can go to the checkout counter and get this look from the clerk that seems to say something like, “Oh, here’s another one,” or “Can’t you see I’m looking at my nails?” or “Ugh.  Do I have to?”  Then, there’s the employee who will take you right to what you’re looking for, answer questions, check inventory, offer suggestions, and who seems genuinely interested in your satisfaction.

What Jesus is driving at for the way he is teaching his disciples to live in this world is to notice and to care.  People can notice but not care—there’s more than enough of that!  There are also those who speak of how they care, yet never seem to notice.  There are always plenty who seem to do neither.  Maybe we’ve been each of those at different times in our lives.  Notice and care.  That’s the Jesus way.

               [1] William Barclay.  Gospel of Matthew.  Vol. 1.  1956.  Daily Study Bible.  Philadelphia: Westminster P, 1975.  174.

               [2] Gospel of Matthew, 168.