Measurable Good, Immeasurable Blessing
Reflections on Luke 6.27-38
RCL Epiphany 7C
24 February 2019
Holy Trinity Cathedral
New Westminster BC
Luke 6.27-38
6.27[Jesus said,] “But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. 29If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. 30Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. 31Do to others as you would have them do to you.
32“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. 33If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. 34If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. 35But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. 36Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.
37“Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; 38give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”
Bill Burnett was Archbishop of Cape Town from 1974 to 1981. During those years the Anglican Church in South Africa was on the forefront of the religious opposition to apartheid. Burnett, who spoke both English and Afrikaans, was well-known to the government of the day for his commitment to seeing an end to racial segregation in South Africa.
Shortly after I was ordained in 1981, the year Burnett retired, I heard a story about him. I was told that he woke up one morning with the realization that he needed to ‘love the government’. Such a realization could not have come easily to a man opposed to the government’s support of white supremacy, but Burnett accepted the call he had heard.
He began by inviting government ministers and deputy ministers for coffee or breakfast, usually one on one, but occasionally in pairs or trios. I’m sure that it took some time before anyone on the government benches accepted his invitations, but eventually they did. I equally sure that the Archbishop’s guests were very surprised by the conversation they had with the Archbishop. Burnett did not harangue them or pressure them. He asked about their work and their families, about their hopes and their dreams, about their fears and their concerns for the future.
Archbishop Burnett died in August of 1994, some thirteen years after he retired from the Diocese of Cape Town. He lived long enough to celebrate the election of a black Archbishop of Cape Town, Desmond Tutu, in 1986, to see the release of Nelson Mandela in 1990 and to witness Mandela’s election as President of South Africa in April of 1994, just four months before Burnett’s death. There is a part of me that wonders whether Burnett’s quiet and unheralded initiative to ‘love the government’ contributed to the emergence of a multi-racial and increasingly democratic South Africa.
“But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.” [1]
I believe that we often underestimate the power of quiet acts of goodness down without expectation of reward and without any recognition. In the food court of a mall I regularly visit, the trays are taken to a central location where staff members sort the recyclable items from the compostable waste and trash, an effort to be a ‘greener’ public place. I try to thank the staff whenever I can catch their eye for what they are doing. I know that it is what they are paid to do, but what they are doing benefits all of us in one way or another. I am sometimes rewarded by a shy smile or even a ‘you’re welcome’. Mutual acts of goodness that mean we see each other for who we are, people who share this place and who need each other.
I am convinced that the accumulated weight of the acts of quiet goodness undertaken by people whom we do not know or whom we can easily ignore or with whom we share our daily lives are what sustain the world in which we live. The evils and tragedies of our times are well and truly documented, but I believe that these acts of quiet goodness bend the trajectory of human history towards the doing of justice, the loving of mercy and walking in humility before our Creator. Our acts of quiet goodness fuel the engine of God’s purposes working in and through us and bring us ever closer to that Day long desired by humanity from the first moment our species experienced self-awareness.
In the meantime there is still much to be done. The chaos and debris of human sin litter the path towards that promised Day of God’s promised reign. We zig and we zag as we navigate our way forward. But we do not lose hope even when our efforts go unrewarded, at least in worldly ways, or unnoticed by those we wish would pay some mind for all that with do. No, we do not lose hope as we proclaim to all who have ears to hear, eyes to see, hearts to love and hands to help:
Glory to God,
whose power, working in us,
can do --- and has done --- infinitely more
than we can ask or imagine.
Glory to God from generation to generation,
in the Church and in Christ Jesus,
for ever and ever. Amen.
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