True Righteousness - Anger
Psalm 137; Matt 5.17-21Lunchtime series on Psalms, King's College London
This is a sermon that didn’t quite go the way I expected. When I chose Psalm 137 I was going to elaborate on platitudes like ‘it’s alright to get angry with God’; and ‘bashing babies against rocks is wrong!’ And maybe give my own rendition of Boney M’s “By the waters of Babylon…” But then I thought, ‘you know all that’.
So that set me thinking about righteous anger, and that led me eventually to laughter. So let’s set out with a good Gospel text and see where it takes us in exploring raw emotions, which is what this series on the Psalms is about.
“Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Matt 5.20
And from my holiday reading, Euphemia MacFarrigle & the Laughing Virgin (Christopher Whyte, Indigo,1995 p144 - a refreshing and scandalously funny book especially for those who feel the Church has messed up their life):
“Her old beliefs and way of praying were obsolete, and she was uncertain whether this new force was an emanation of the devil or whether a saner, more mischievous and playful deity had entered her life.”“the devil... or a saner, more mischievous and playful deity”
When you reflect on the straightforward reading of our Psalm, and don’t try to nicify it, it reveals one of the frightening but commonplace observations about religion: that is, it is sometimes hard to tell whether it is good or bad; whether it reflects the character of the devil or the character of God.
I have been a pastor for too many years not to know that people use Christianity constantly to screw themselves up - or others - or usually both!
And such people are often quite unable to see in the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, “a saner, more mischievous and playful deity.” Indeed, for many of them the very idea is blasphemous. God is austere and demanding, and never laughs. They are the sort who take the swing out of the budgie’s cage on a Sunday.
And those who worship this humourless God, constantly misinterpret the Bible’s call for righteous living.
They listen to the typically Jewish, hyperbolic language of our Lord in the Gospels, and are unable to supply the undercurrent of mirth which is present in all God’s dealings with the pride of man.
In taking themselves too seriously, they fail to take God seriously. I think Jesus might have agreed with Malcolm Muggeridge that: “Next to mystical enlightenment [laughter] is the most precious gift and blessing that comes to us on earth.”
So how does this assertion that the pervading humour in our human condition is a reflection of the playful creativity of God help us to interpret our text today?
“unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
“Righteousness” here in Matthew means faithfulness and obedience to the law of God. Our Lord said as much in the previous verse: “Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments… shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven…” (v19)
The Scribes (some of whom were also Pharisees) were the legal eagles: the solicitors and lawyers who developed the law and practised it in court.
The pharisees, on the other hand, made the law’s demands less demanding and the law’s permissions more permissive. They were casuists. They were spinners. They were like most of us.
And they were not popular with Matthew who probably agreed with the Qumran sect that they were ‘the seekers of smooth things’.
Nonetheless, they still only managed to narrow the Mosaic law down to 248 commandments and 365 prohibitions. And they kept most of them.
So what did Jesus mean when he told his followers that their righteousness was to exceed that of the scribes and pharisees?
That we should add a few extra prohibitions - Number 366: musicians may not slip out for a drink & a ciggy during the sermon… Or that if the Pharisees broke 5 commandments, we should go for a maximum failure rate of say, 4?
If this is what he meant, then what hope is there for any of us? Like the man standing in church staring at the Ten Commandments on the Wall, muttering: “well at least I haven’t coveted my neighbour’s ox…”
Jesus goes on to illustrate what he means by a ‘greater righteousness’ with six antitheses; six contrasts introduced with the formula: “You have heard that it was said… But I say…”
You will be relieved to hear that we are only looking at the first antithesis today.
“You have heard it said - thou shalt not kill (better - commit murder)…”
Now there’s a box we can probably all tick.
“But I say… Do not be angry with one another without cause”
This is not just getting angry. Our Lord became angry at times. Like the psalmist weeping in Babylon, we know that’s ok. This is that anger that stems from pride and malice, selfishness and spite, frustration, revenge and jealousy… It’s a killer and destroys families, communities, churches… not to mention the disintegration of the self.
And then there is the matter of insults. “Whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire.”
Raca - the commentaries are full of possible translations of this Aramaic word: nitwit, blockhead, numskull, bonehead - I think most of the commentaries are too polite to use the obvious contemporary phrase for a man who thinks with an inappropriate part of his anatomy.
‘Fool’ is from the same root as moron. In fact the pair of words perhaps refer to someone’s intelligence and character. “You’re a stupid scoundrel.”
So may we not call each other names? How dull life would be. And lovers’ tiffs would be so colourless and unsatisfactory.
No. This is name-calling that stems from arrogant sneering. This is verbal abuse that wounds the soul. This is linguistic sadism. It corrupts both speaker and hearer. This is sarcasm – from the Greek sarx, flesh; the rending of the flesh.
So what is this righteousness that outdoes the pharisees?
It is a deeper obedience of mind and motive with a constant undercurrent of self-mockery, to save us from the deadly pride. It is honest about feelings, like the psalmist, but with a more Christ like understanding of ourselves.
It is not the abolition of the law. The Mosaic law informs many of our decisions and legal codes and is still the well-spring of our ethical choices. But in Christ’s fulfilment of that law, and with the help of his promised Holy Spirit, we enter more deeply into the loving heart of God and of his laws. And he enters more deeply into us to bring healing and wholeness.
We see that the way we live in a world still torn and disfigured with evil, is important. And it must be Christ like, especially in our relations with one another.
The Psalmist is right to express his anger and grief to God about the brutal Babylonians who had subjected his people. But as a stand-alone Psalm, he was wrong in proposing a solution that simply continues the cycle of violence.
The true righteousness which our Lord calls us to, is a deep inner orientation to love God and neighbour and not to treat enemies as they have treated us.
Like the Psalmist, we will sometimes get it wrong in the heat of the moment.
But as we reflect in God’s presence, as the Psalmist often does, for instance in Psalm 73: “When my soul was embittered... I was stupid and ignorant; I was like a brute beast towards you.” (vv 21f) - when we reflect on our outburst of anger, we see it requires a deep inner humility which is fuelled, in all the greatest saints, by the gift of self-mockery and laughter.
Let me end with a creation poem by Paul Bunday:
In the beginning… God laughed
And the earth was glad.
The sound of laughter
Was like the swaying and swinging of thunder in mirth;
Like the rush of the north on a drowsy and dozing land;
It was cold. It was clear.
The lion leapt down
At the bleating feet of the frightened lamb and smiled;
And the viper was tamed by the thrill of the earth,
At the holy laughter.
We laughed, for the Lord was laughing with us in the evening;
For the laughter of love went pealing into the night;
And it was good.