It’s what’s inside that counts
Rev. Eugene N. Nelson, Jr.
The Community Church of Sebastopol
January 12, 2003
Matthew 5: 21-26
I recently came across a little story about a hippopotamus, an owl, and a butterfly. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, doesn’t it? It seems that the hippo had fallen in love with a butterfly, a relationship which immediately posed certain practical problems. The hippo, realizing the difficulty of the relationship yet still determined to pursue his beloved, sought the advise of a wise old owl.
“Well,” said the owl, “clearly you must become a butterfly and you had better do it sooner than later.”
The hippo was delighted with this idea! He crashed back into the jungle…only to return shortly with a puzzled expression on his face. “So,” said the hippo, “Just how do I go about becoming a butterfly?” To which the wise old owl responded, “Hey, I set policy. I don’t worry about implementation.”
I “borrowed” this story from Peter Heinrichs, a Presbyterian minister in Springfield, Massachusetts. And I agree with him that there are a number of ways to think about it. One could say that the love struck hippo should learn to love and be loved for what he is, and not try to be something he is not and never can be. And yet, isn’t there something in each of us that wants to stretch and fly like a butterfly, that always dreams of being something more, something greater, than what we are today? I wouldn’t want to deny that dream to the hippo or to anyone.
Related to that, a second point one could make is that there really is a butterfly within each of us trying to get out. If you want it bad enough, you, too, can fly. But you know and I know that it takes something more than simply wanting to, to be able to fly. I recall a scene from the film, An Officer and a Gentleman, when the tough as nails drill sergeant gets in the face of officer candidate Mayo, screaming at him, “What are you doing here?” Mayo answers, “I want to learn how to fly jets, sir!” To which the drill sergeant replies, “My grandmother wants to learn how to fly jets!” Just wanting something isn’t quite enough.
Which leads to a third reflection on the Hippo story. In Heinrichs’ words, “Perhaps we are too convinced that what we must do, we must do alone. That hippo is never going to fly on his own, no matter what. But it may be that he can charm the butterfly down to join him from time to time on the ground. And if you’ve ever been in love with someone, you know how it can be when you feel that your feet don’t even touch the ground.” He continues, “So it is with the life of faith. You don’t get to be good simply by wanting to be good or trying to be good. You get there by a slow falling in love with a life that has more faithfulness, more gracefulness, more compassion than any other you have known. And for Christians, this life has a face and a voice…”
“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times…but I say to you.” In this section of the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew 5: 17– 26, Jesus gets specific. He gives some concrete illustrations of just what life in the Kingdom of God looks like, just what it takes to be a citizen of the Kingdom, that realm. He makes it very clear that he has not come to get rid of or throw out the Old Testament law. Rather, with his “but I say to you” teachings, Jesus is calling his disciples, indeed challenging his disciples, to a new and greater righteousness. It is as if he is saying, “Here is the law; now I am going to the heart of that law to show how children of the kingdom of heaven live out its deepest meaning. I don’t just want you to fall in love with words written on a page. I want you to fall in love with a whole way of life. Then we’ll see if you can fly.” You might say that Jesus was more interested in implementation than he was in policy.
I know it’s January, but allow me one last Christmas story: Charlie Brown comes upon Lucy and Linus, those old antagonists, and much to his amazement they are standing there smiling and holding hands! Lucy says, “We’re brother and sister and we love each other.” Charlie Brown can’t stand it. “You’re hypocrites, that’s what you are! Do you really think you can fool Santa Claus this way?” Lucy replies, “Why not? We’re a couple of sharp kids and he’s just an old man!” As they walk away, still holding hands and smiling, Charlie Brown leans against a tree and says, “I weep for our generation!” Charles Schulz knew his gospel.
Jesus suggests that it is fairly easy to look good, look righteous, look religious, look loving on the outside – brother and sister lovingly holding hands for all the world – and Santa – to see. “I’m a follower of the law. God knows I have never murdered anyone. I’m doing all the right things – don’t cheat on my taxes or kick dogs or steal or put garbage in the re-cycling. I follow the law.”
But Jesus is relentless. It isn’t enough, he says, just to hold hands and smile. It isn’t enough just to look good. It isn’t enough even to strictly follow the letter of the law. That’s all out there. And in the Kingdom, it’s what inside that counts. He challenges his disciples to go deeper. “You have heard it said do not murder. But let me ask you this. Are you angry with your brother or sister, do you put him or her down when they aren’t around, are you carrying a grudge, do you come to worship carrying all kinds of negative and angry thoughts about others? If so, then you might as well be carrying murder in your heart. Don’t tell me you are following the law until you seek reconciliation with that brother or sister. Don’t you dare sing ‘Let there be peace on earth’ during communion until you seek peace with each other.” For Jesus, this is the deeper meaning of the law. This is what the law looks like in the kingdom of heaven. It’s falling in love with a way of life. Again, it’s what is on the inside that counts.
I recall the comment from Mark Twain: “He was a good man in the very worst sense of the word.” Look at our world today. Religious people – good people who know scripture forward and backward – continue to inflict a lot of pain. Many seem so angry, so judgmental, and so self-righteous, so convinced they know how everyone else ought to live. I once heard a minister say, “Whenever there is a dispute and someone in the midst of the dispute says, ‘The Bible says’ you can bet that someone else is about to get hurt.” How easily the Bible – or Koran – can become weapons instead of instruments of understanding and reconciliation. Indeed, one could argue that it was the “good people” of Jerusalem, people who never broke any law, who eventually cried, “Crucify him!” Don’t just keep the law, says Jesus. Dare to go with me beyond the law; dare to go deeper.
I once read about a memorial service for a woman who died of cancer, leaving behind a husband and two small children. In the service, the husband got up and told a small story about their married life. Several times in their years together they had driven across the country, from New England to Wyoming. It was a trip he particularly enjoyed because they would camp along the way and he could fish, which he loved to do. It was not exactly her cup of tea, but she went along with it and always had a good book to read. But there was one portion of the trip he always dreaded - Interstate 80 through Nebraska…flat, straight, boring. But he had a plan. He would insist on driving right up to the Nebraska border, then say he needed rest and turn the driving over to her. His plan worked. She took the wheel and drove the entire 440 miles of Nebraska. He even faked being asleep for the last hour so he would not have to drive.
When they reached the Wyoming border, he suddenly came alive again and offered to take over the driving. He found her tired, yet very peaceful. Just before she drifted off to sleep, she told him of what she had seen while he slept through “boring” Nebraska: animal life along the North Platte River, markers telling the story of Indian life in the Great Plains, wonderful unique signs in small towns. These were the kinds of things that he actually loved to see when traveling, but he had missed them all.
He concluded his talk by saying that he intended to go back to Nebraska some day to see what he had missed, and to honor this woman who consistently seemed to have a way of drawing him ever deeper into life, of showing him how to live more fully.
And again, isn’t that precisely what Jesus is doing with this teaching - drawing us ever deeper into life? “You have heard it said that you should not murder…but I say to you when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, go…first be reconciled to your brother or sister.” Dare to go deeper, beyond the letter to the spirit of the law. Otherwise you are missing so much. Sure, not murdering each other is important, but equally important is the way you treat each other every day, how you go about repairing this broken creation, removing any malignant tissue between us that threatens our life together. This is true judgment. Jesus speaks about judgment, indeed this is what judgment is all about – the burning away of all that is cruel and spirit-killing in order that we may breathe the fresh air of compassion and reconciliation in order that things might be set right.
And, oh yes, as Colombo would say, one more thing. When you turn on your computer to write the letter, or pick up the phone to make the call, or stand at the door, with your heart in your throat, about to knock, you do not go alone. You take with you the very one who said, “Remember, I am with you always….” The challenge to go deeper is accompanied by his promise to go there with us.