Life-giving is must be

Sermon on Mark 10:2-16

When I started seminary there was always something going on between people. You can imagine, when there are 120 young people living, studying, eating and worshipping together, there are lots of social interactions. Including lots of love, many broken hearts, and lots of messiness in between. It’s maybe not what people might think of a place with future pastors, but life isn’t that different for us. We were mostly a bunch of college kids dating, flirting, loving, separating, and starting all over again. Totally normal. Except that it happened in a kind of fishbowl with everybody observing. Even the professors and docents.

Yes, totally normal. Except that we were theologians, pastors to be. Which almost always comes with a sense of higher morality. Because we know what’s right and wrong and we will follow those rules.

So, we found ourselves in the most hypocritical situation ever. Being as young, naive, and sometimes plain stupid as everyone else in their early 20s while carrying an esteem of being better. Of course, we weren’t. The only thing we were better at was at judging and shaming people who had done wrong in our eyes. And what could be a more righteous wrong to point out in a Christian context than adultery and divorce, right?

So, we did. We didn’t only talk about the guy who left his wife for another woman whom he later married. We shamed them by ignoring them, giving them “the eye”. We felt like they needed to feel how awful this was for the wife. We also felt like we needed to pick sides when no one had asked us to do so.

I remember talking to my best friend about this guy, sharing my opinionated and judgy thoughts. And she listened patiently and then said: “Well, you don’t have to have an opinion about this situation. It’s none of your business really. If you want to do something good, show the wife that you care about her. Everything else is something the 3 of them need to sort out. And no one else.”

The moment she said that I knew she was right. Of course, I didn’t admit it right away. I was too involved emotionally in the process. Not, because I was friends with any of the 3 people. But because my parents had finally just gotten their divorce after years and years of my dad cheating on my mom. This topic hit home for me, and I didn’t feel ready to not condemn any man leaving his wife for someone else. Thank God for friends who will tell us hard truths and correct our paths. Thank you, Jesus, for telling us right from wrong especially when it’s not what we think is right and wrong.

What is it about us human beings and rules? We love making and enforcing rules, especially when they apply to others. And we love breaking rules when they seem unpleasant. We often try to substitute love and relationships with rules and most importantly with morals.

Because morals allow us to really look down on others, to shame and blame them. And to feel much better about ourselves.

Which is what today’s Gospel reveals in the most fascinating way. About one of the most peculiar topics of all time. About marriage, the intimidating relationship between two people who decided to be one flesh, one bone, one community that will care for each other as if their life depended on it.

Back then, in first-century Palestine, lives did depend on it. Especially the lives of women and children. Without the safety of a marriage, they were deemed to be poor and abused. And it’s not that long ago that this was the case in our Western world as well. Even today, single moms and their children are still at highest risk to live in poverty.

Today’s Gospel at first sight might feel like it sets up a general rule of “Marriage is forever, divorces aren’t permitted by God.” Yet, that proves to be a very narrow-sided way of reading it. The Pharisees want to test Jesus, asking him whether it’s lawful for a man to divorce his wife. They don’t ask whether it’s good or right or to be encouraged, but whether it’s lawful. And they don’t ask because they don’t know the answer. But because they want to test Jesus. Why? Well, not too long before that John the Baptist was beheaded when he condemned Herod’s wedding with his brother’s newly divorced wife. If Jesus plain out condemned divorces as well, they could summon him in front of Herod and get him killed, too.

Of course, Jesus reads their faces, intentions, and hearts. And he answers giving the question right back at them. Now, they have to prove how well versed they are in the Holy Scriptures. Of course, the answer is: Yes, it is lawful. Moses said so. Here the dispute could end.

But Jesus uses the situation as a teaching moment. Just because something is lawful, doesn’t mean it’s the best thing to do. The reason why Moses allows for divorce is human’s hardness of heart. What God actually intended from the beginning of creation was for two people, at that point all of humanity, to become one flesh. The lecture ends with the most cited sentence at weddings: “Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” It’s basically a life- sentence.

So, does Jesus condemn divorce? No. As always with Jesus, it’s not that easy and straightforward.

What Jesus insists on here is, that marriages are something that one shouldn’t enter lightheaded. While a relationship might strengthen both partners, divorces back in the days could be death sentences to the abandoned women and children who were seen as property of the man. While in many cultures women couldn’t file for divorce no matter how bad the circumstances, men could claim that their wife wasn’t pleasing them and let her go. Dispose of her like something he grew tired of. That, Jesus clearly trounced by citing from the Torah. His message is always the same: Look out for the most vulnerable. Honor your relationships by working on them. That’s what God intended for you. To be with an equal partner, bone from your bone. To be in relationship like one flesh.

Becoming one flesh is not just about sex, obviously. It’s about deeply caring for one another. So much that one might feel like one body, one bone, one flesh. So much that my partner’s pain is my pain, my partner’s joy is my joy, that our wellbeing is interwoven.

While we always hear this story at weddings, implying that Adam and Eve were only made for marriage, that’s by no means the case. First and foremost, Adam and Eve represent all of humanity. And, humanity began with complete empathy and mutuality, and similarity. When Jesus refers the nitpicking Pharisees back to Genesis, he tells them: This is not a legal question at its heart. It’s about all human interactions, all human community. It’s a spiritual question. God’s dream for humankind is that we receive each other as partners and equals, as an extension of our own bones and flesh. Debbie Thomas calls this: “Companions as essential, as vulnerable, and as worthy of tenderness and protection as our own bodies.” What hinders this dream is the hardness of our hearts. And so, we often trade as Debbie writes: “partnership for power.  Mutuality for manipulation.  Empathy for egotism.” Not just in romantic relationships. But in our relationships in general.

So, what’s the Good News in all this morality and law talk?

This ideal here of being one flesh through thick and thin, I believe, is not supposed to scare us but to encourage us to look at our relationships. The ones that are life-giving to us. And the ones, that aren’t. No matter if it’s a marriage or a different kind of relationship among lovers or friends. Understood that way, sometimes a divorce is much more life-giving than holding onto a relationship in which the life sentence feels like a death sentence.

The Good News is that God made humans as men, women, and everybody in between (you might remember my excurse a couple of months back on the inclusive “and”) to be in mutual, life-giving relationships and friendships. Those are sacred, those are to be nurtured and deepened.

With that understanding, breaking up a relationship that turned into something that takes away the zest of life can be life-giving. It can restore equality and empathy, breaking the circle of power and pain. Or at least pointing to an end sometimes. Just because God’s dream for us is to live in love and respect with everybody, doesn’t mean it reflects our reality. It just reminds us that that’s the goal, the idea, the great hope for humankind. To be at peace with each other. Which includes not judging others when their dream of lifelong love bursts. For whatever reason. What we are called to do is to make sure that whoever ends up vulnerable in the event of a separation, that those are taken care of. The children. Often the women, sometimes the men. The ones deemed nobodies whom Jesus hugged and blessed.

As Christians, we are not holier than others or even better. We aren’t morally superior to anybody. What we might want to try is to be more honest. To be more vulnerable, to share what we care about and where we fail. Maybe, just maybe, we will start hearing other people’s stories. And maybe, just maybe, we will see how their bones are just like our bones, how our flesh isn’t so different after all. Maybe, we will build more life-giving relationships with more people than we could ever imagine.

Debbie Thomas’ conclusion from three years ago still rings true: “At this particular moment, when so many of us feel tired, angry, and bruised, God’s dream for human community might feel like a pipe dream. Hardness of heart might feel easier and more accessible.  Perhaps it is.  But something in me thrills at the dream, even still, and I believe that’s because God planted the dream deep into our hearts a long time ago, and trusts us to keep it alive now. Bone of my bones. Flesh of my flesh. One humanity. Perfect joy. This is the dream we were created for. Let’s not give up on it.” Amen? AMEN!