Sunday, May 26, 2019

A Memorial Day Reflection on Enemies



I’ve read Romans 5 maybe a hundred times in my life. It’s on the short list of the most central passages to Christian theology. This will be the fifth time I’ve preached on it. But, like so many things, there’s more there the more I have read it. This was the first time I even noticed one word. It’s the first time I considered the word, “enemies.”
            “For if while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more surely, having been reconciled, will we be saved by his life,” says Paul in Romans 5:10.
            I doubt we think very often about our relationship with God as one of enmity. Even when we are perfectly fine describing ourselves as sinner, I don’t think we consider ourselves enemies to God. I suspect most of us feel like we are, at worst, neutral parties, not enemies! And, yet, if there is no neutrality, and none of us can choose God’s side, if we are only ever able to choose our own side, then I suppose we are enemies. So, I started to think about that a little bit.
            I suspect that one of the other reasons it stuck with me is because there is a lot of talk in the world about who are our enemies. It’s worth thinking about probably more than we do. The longer I thought about it, the tougher it became to tease out an answer. On first blush, there’s the answer I want to give—that I feel like I’m supposed to give: Nobody. We’re supposed to love everybody, and, yet, even Jesus says to pray for our enemies—not “Do not have enemies!” but rather pray for them, because apparently you will have them. As citizens of the United States of America, especially on this Memorial Day weekend, we have other allegiances settled for us. By virtue of our national identity, some people are supposed to be our friends and others our enemies. We didn’t choose this; it simply is.

            On the one hand, our military doesn’t have the luxury of idealism. It doesn’t exist to promote love. On the other, the Christian faith doesn’t care about the pragmatism of defense. So, here we are, celebrating those who have made a tremendous sacrifice, one worth remembering and honoring, and at the same time, as Christians we fight an enemy much more personal and challenging. For us, the enemy is within the walls, because the enemy is you and me.
            This is a very different kind of battle we fight. It is not won by weapons, nor even by willpower, because our willpower only shows the extent to which we are captive to the law. This is a battle in which we can make no headway. When you are at war with yourself, there is no victory.
            Being Christian is ultimately a terribly contradictory existence, and it only gets harder when we try to live our lives faithfully in service of a cause. Then, we discover that all the next most important allegiances we have are our surest idols. We consistently idolize our country, our communities, and even our families—and the greatest idol of all is ourselves. Give any of us enough power, and we will convince ourselves we are God beyond the shadow of a doubt.
            In Romans, Paul is telling us that to follow Christ is not to choose to live differently but to die to a world that forces you into allegiances that are not ultimate. The law won’t save you, and by the law I mean trying to follow all the rules, serving the next best allegiances, and even being a good person, a good parent, or a good spouse—and that’s only the start of what the law can’t do. We won’t be saved by following the law, by making any attempt at legislation, or with any rules we devise to keep us and our loved ones safe. No way of the world leads to peace, let alone salvation—even the sacrifices we celebrate. They still beg for a savior.
            But here’s the good news. Since none of that stuff will save us, and none of us are any further along than others, God meets us in the same place in the same way—no matter the path we’ve traveled. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, and it doesn’t matter who you are—on the right side of the tracks or the wrong; our friend or enemy by birth—all of us are in the same place; all of us are in need of the grace of God to make us something other than enemies. It’s the only way to have a friend in Jesus. The good news of Jesus Christ is that he befriends you, he saves you, he loves you, because you can’t. But what you can’t do doesn’t matter. You are set.
            You are set, so what comes next? On this Memorial Day weekend, I think we would do well to reflect on how we are sacrificing for the ones who come after us. It’s one thing to remember and honor those who have made a sacrifice already. We should. We will. But it’s quite another to consider where we fit into the picture. Some sacrificed by giving their lives for their country, and we should honor that not by idolizing them, which is easy and demands nothing from us. Rather, we should honor that sacrifice by asking in what ways we are called to do the same.
            This is very much in line with Romans 5.
How are we dying to ourselves?
How are we following the harder path for the sake of God and those in need?
How are we putting the good of others above our own?
What are we giving our lives to?
            When you ask those questions, God will lead you toward a life of service. And that service looks a million different ways, but all of it is good, all of it is worthwhile, and none of it saves us. No, we aren’t saved by being heroes. We can honor that, but still know that saving is Jesus’ doing. And if we are called to be heroes, it is because we’ve already been saved.

No comments:

Post a Comment