The Best Outfit - Luke 6:27-38
As we reflect on today’s Gospel passage, let’s begin on a lighter note. I invite you to recall the favorite outfit you have ever worn. Maybe it was what you wore for a major life event, like a wedding or graduation. Or maybe it’s one you just felt great in, say last Tuesday. I should probably choose my wedding dress for this exercise, but there’s another white dress in my history that I loved most of all. It was a knee length number with cap sleeves, tulle, and little pearl buttons from the collar to the hem. It was my First Communion dress. I was six, and I was obsessed. I could not wait to wear it, along with new white tights, white Mary Janes, and, since this was the 1970s, a headband of fresh flowers. My friends and I all looked like miniature brides. According to Roman Catholic tradition, we had arrived at the age of reason, so we were ready for the sacrament of bread and wine.
But before I could wear my awesome dress, which was clearly the most important thing about taking communion for the first time, I had to make my first confession to the priest. This was terrifying. The priest was nice enough. Fr. Bob was basically John Denver in tie dye vestments. But the prospect of having to confess my sin brought up a new feeling for me, the feeling of shame. I was scared at the thought of being exposed as a bad person. All these years later, I find the rhythm of confession and absolution quite powerful and healing. As a child, though, all I heard was that there was something wrong with me. I remember kind of freezing when it was my turn. I made up something innocuous about hitting my brother. The priest smiled and told me to say some prayers and that was it, easy enough. But that first feeling of shame stayed with me.
We all have those moments, when shame is sharp, as children and adults. Shame is more than the worry that we’ve done something wrong or bad. Shame tells us that we are something wrong or bad. Shame is a loud and powerful voice that tells us we are not good enough or lovable enough for any number of reasons. Religion can be the worst purveyor of shame, especially when one is told in God’s name that you are unacceptable by virtue of who you are or who you love. There is secular shame, too. Shame is a currency we spend against ourselves and others, and it’s also convenient for selling us products that will compensate for our inadequacies. The late French philosopher Michel Foucault argued that we live under a complex, oppressive system of shame, which functions to keep us submissive to dominant power structures. It’s heady stuff, but one of the basic takeaways is that shame is something every human experiences and carries around. It’s as much of a pandemic as COVID-19.
Why all this talk of shame, you ask? In Luke’s gospel, Jesus has just given us what sounds like a standard list of good Christian practices: loving our enemies, blessing those who curse us, offering the other cheek, giving to those who beg from us, giving our shirt to the person who takes our coat, and the ultimate summary statement: “do to others as you would have them do to you.” We could easily see this simply as a list of good works. But this is part of Jesus’ sermon on the plain, which is about something far more radical than good behavior. His list is about shame, and how to get rid of it.
Take turning the other cheek, for example. This expression is not exactly what we think it is. Scholars suggest that Jesus is describing a scenario about power and shame here. If someone more powerful than you hits you across your face with the back of his hand, and then you offer your other cheek, he has to hit you with an open hand in the other direction, and see your face. According to first century rules, by doing this, you are claiming to be an equal to the one who thinks they are more powerful than you. Likewise, giving your shirt to the person who takes your coat is about changing the dynamics of shame and power. Say a tax collector not only takes your money, but also your coat. Jesus says keep going, strip down. By those same set of cultural rules, nakedness isn’t just shameful for the one who is naked, it’s shameful for the person who beholds your nakedness. In a society steeped in an elaborate system of shame and honor, Jesus is showing a way to reverse that system and rob shame of its power altogether.
It’s one thing to look at first century Palestine and see how shame and honor worked in that culture. It’s a bit harder to be aware of those same dynamics in our own because shame is literally everywhere. Society tells us that there is shame in being everything from hungry to hated, poor, lonely, rejected, or different. Sometimes religion preaches that message, too. We all get caught up in feeling shame and in shaming others. Jesus insists on ending that once and for all, showing us time and again that grace is far more powerful, and inviting his followers to live into that truth. Shame has no place in the kingdom of God.
Yesterday, the Episcopal Church in Arkansas held its 150th diocesan convention. Surely, this year’s gathering on Zoom could not be more different than the first one in 1872, and yet the task was the same. We gather year after year to affirm the presence of this unique Christian community in Arkansas, and to plan its future. Yesterday, our bishop named that there is fear about the future in our culture and in our church. We worry about what the Episcopal Church will look like post-pandemic in the years to come. He reminded us that fear is not the end of the story. Coming out of a scary and isolating pandemic, we will all need more tangible community and deeper connections, whether we’re long-time Episcopalians or brand new ones or people who have yet to hear some good news. That’s an exciting call for the church, whatever it will look like.
Thinking back to your favorite outfits for a moment, there is another garment to consider. Whether or not you have one hanging in your closet, there is a garment we share as followers of Jesus. In early descriptions of Holy Baptism, we know that new converts were given a simple white robe to wear, which symbolized putting on the robe of Christ. The robe signified a fresh start for the newly baptized, now free of past sin and shame, and dressed in freedom and dignity. Sharing the news of that outfit is an exciting post-shame pandemic call for the church, too. I can’t wait for us to get started.