Every month or so, Phil Keith organizes the Men of the Church to play cards at Forrest McKinney’s house so Forrest can have some interaction with his friends and so the rest of us can inevitably lose all of our money to Forrest. If I remember correctly, the last time we were there, eight of us gathered around a big circular table in the McKinney’s living room. The game was poker, more specifically, Texas Hold ‘Em. Many of you, I am sure, have played or watched a poker game at some point so you are familiar with the term “all-in.” At any time in the game a player can choose to put all of their chips on the table. They bet their entire stack; everything that they have to offer. They push out all of their chips into the middle of the table to either win or lose. When a player does this, they are saying to all of the other players, “I am betting everything I have. I am committing all that I’ve got.”
Forrest is a music aficionado and he often programs famous music videos from the 80s and 90s to play on the television in the background of our poker game. Those less focused tend to get lost in the lively conversation and the music videos. Eventually, we whittle down the group to the final three more serious players as the night draws to a close. I have to say that I’m pretty proud to be in that final group on occasion. The last time we gathered, I was again in the final three left playing the game.
Forrest’s biggest skill and gift when it comes to poker? Patience. Which is, alas, something I don’t have much of. As the night of our last game wore on and Forrest’s winnings increased, I decided to go big or go home by pushing all of my chips into the middle of the table. “All in!” I called. We flipped over our cards and I revealed my pair of threes with a Jack kicker. Forrest turned over a Full House and chuckled with glee and pride. Dangit. Beaten again.
With ALS, I’m sure every moment is an “all in” moment for Forrest. Every smile, every hello, every hug, every story is an “all in” moment. We think we have time to repair that friendship, or say “I love you,” or do a good deed. We think it doesn’t matter if we yell at a stranger, ignore someone needing help, or don’t live like Jesus. We may find that we often aren’t “all in” for God and we aren’t “all in” in loving our neighbors. And you know what? We definitely aren’t “all in” when it comes to loving our enemies. When Jesus tells us to love our enemies or to love those who despise you, surely Jesus doesn’t mean we have to be “all in” on that, right? Surely, “all in” is only a last-ditch effort in a poker game and not a life position as we follow Jesus?
If that’s what we believe, then we’re carrying around some heavy baggage this morning. We are shouldering the heavy bag of contempt. We are holding the weighty luggage of animosity and hatred thinking that our feelings are appropriate and even justified sometimes. The bag of contempt drags us down, causing depression, anger, and mistrust. The bag of contempt is the next bag we need to set down this Lenten season. In the past two weeks we’ve put down the bag of guilt and the bag of want. And today we strive to go “all in” in following Jesus and lay down our bag of contempt.
Now, I’m well aware that this will probably be the most difficult piece of luggage we will try to put down this Lenten Season. We often feel as if our enemies should simply be avoided and that we can hide from the contempt we have of them. And yes, it is imperative that we take care of ourselves and try to keep a distance from those who are toxic. But ultimately, that’s not what Jesus did.
Jesus came to fulfill the law of God, not to abolish it or hide from it. He came to reveal to us a love for all people, even our enemies. He came to give all of himself in the work of the reign of justice and abundant love, even at the hands of his enemies. He came to fulfill the law of God which is the law of love. For example, Jesus said, “The law says, ‘Do not murder.’ But I say that not killing someone doesn’t go far enough. God is concerned about how you feel towards others, how you perceive them, how you relate to them. Therefore, beware of your anger toward others. Beware of your contempt of others. Beware of your degradation of others.” For it is the heart that determines the person. And we have some heavy hearts filled with contempt.
But seriously, Jesus? Love our enemies? How are we supposed to do that? How do we let go of the bag of contempt that we carry around with us? I love this piece of luggage. I need this piece of luggage. Because who am I without contempt? Who am I without my enemies? The late Catholic priest, Henri Nouwen, reached a point in his life when he had to confess that this is what had happened to him. He was forced to ask himself: “Who am I apart from my anger? Who am I apart from feeling a victim? Who am I without my enemies?” To sustain our anger requires self-righteousness. I am good and the other person is bad. I am right and the other person is wrong. The one who has offended me is totally guilty and I’m innocent. The other person is not only my enemy, but that person is God’s enemy. Because God, of course, hates all of the people that I hate. Do our enemies determine who we are rather than our friends? Maybe defining ourselves by who our friends and loved ones are will help us put down the bag of contempt.
On this Sunday, in a week when Fred Rogers’ birthday will be celebrated on March 20, I think it is the right time to honor and remember this extraordinary teacher and pastor to millions of people, especially children. If we weren’t distancing ourselves from one another due to the coronavirus, we would have our monthly Faith and Film and review together the film, “It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood” starring Tom Hanks. Once we are all able to gather together again, we will reschedule the screening of this important movie. And if you want to watch something on your own over the next few weeks, there is a documentary on Fred Rogers’ life and work, “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” that is a masterpiece in its own right. “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” ends with a lovely homage to a famous Mister Rogers moment.
The moment’s not from the sweet, challenging, and revolutionary children’s show many of us grew up watching, but instead from Rogers’ 2002 Commencement Address at Dartmouth College. Fred said:
“I’d like to give you all an invisible gift. A gift of a silent minute to think about those who have helped you become who you are today. Some of them may be here right now. Some may be far away. Some, like my astronomy professor, may even be in heaven. But wherever they are, if they’ve loved you, and encouraged you, and wanted what was best in life for you, they’re right inside yourself. And I feel that you deserve quiet time, on this special occasion, to devote some thought to them. So, let’s just take a minute, in honor of those that have cared about us all along the way. One silent minute...”
“Whomever you’ve been thinking about, imagine how grateful they must be, that during your silent times, you remember how important they are to you. It’s not the honors and the prizes, and the fancy outsides of life which ultimately nourish our souls. It’s the knowing that we can be trusted. That we never have to fear the truth. That the bedrock of our lives, from which we make our choices, is very good stuff.”
As a Presbyterian minister and television friend, Mr. Rogers gave us the gift of connection, inquisitiveness, and love. I’m not sure Mr. Rogers had any enemies. And if he did, he probably loved them. And I am very sure that Mr. Rogers’ love and giving all that he had in service to God, children, and connections required him to not only lay down his life for love but to lay down his bags of contempt for others. For even our enemies help make us who we are, people who want to win the world with love. And Mr. Rogers combatted contempt and animosity through connection with others and building relationships of trust.
What might it look like to move closer to those who hate us and to listen to those who don’t understand us? Because ultimately, it is community that brings people together. And we are living in an increasingly separated and isolated and divisive world. And the coronavirus scare is not making things any better when we are told it is life and death to not gather together or connect with each other.
Bill McKibben from The New Yorker said: “The strangest thing about the coronavirus is that we can’t help one another through it. We can’t lay on hands, we can only wash them: in fact, the way we’ve been explicitly told to help is to stay away from one another. That makes epidemiological sense, but it also makes us a little crazy: social distancing, quarantine, and isolation go hard against the gregarious instinct that makes us who we are.”
We are alone holding our bags of contempt and we can’t even draw close to one another in love and connection in these coming days. And, for me, that’s the true remedy to contempt… drawing near to each other. Maybe that’s how we put down our baggage of contempt. Maybe we imagine our enemies with love and compassion, knowing that we can’t change them, but we can change ourselves. We can change the anger in our hearts and the contempt in our souls. Maybe it is time to be like Mr. Rogers, and overcome our enemies not with isolation and not with contempt, but with connection and love.
And I know it will be hard to do. I know the baggage of contempt is cutting into our shoulders and bending our backs. I know we may not have the bandwidth to love others who don’t love us. But, As William Temple, Archbishop of Canterbury, said, “The only way a Christian has of getting rid of his enemies is to love them into being his friends.” And I know there are days when that might seem ridiculous, inconvenient, and unrealistic. But this is the time when we need to go “all in” and give ourselves over to risky love. For as my friend, Father Jesus Belmontes, the priest at San Juan Diego Catholic Church down the street from Royal Lane said, “What is so extraordinary about loving those who love you?”
It’s easy to love those who love us. It is more difficult to love our enemies and give all of who we are without holding anything back. Henri Nouwen said, “Jesus lived his dying completely for others. The total exhaustion of his body, the abandonment by his friends, and even of his God, all became the gift of self. And as he hung dying in complete powerlessness, nailed against the wood of a tree, there was no bitterness, no desire for revenge, no resentment. Nothing to cling to. All to give.”[1]
If God is love, as the Gospel of John says, as our faith tradition says, then when we focus our attention on God, we focus our attention on love, not contempt. And the incarnation, God coming in the flesh as Jesus the Christ, is the greatest example of love. That is what love does. Love doesn’t hold back. Love doesn’t hold back anything from those who seek it. And God shared God’s life with us through Jesus and held nothing back. God didn’t hold back the sadness. God didn’t hold back the fear. God didn’t hold back the pain. God didn’t hold back the torture. God didn’t hold back the sacrifice. God didn’t hold back love. God shared God’s life and love with us through the life, death, resurrection of Jesus. When we follow Jesus we are giving all of ourselves. Because that is what Jesus did.
I invite us to try to let go of those things that keep us from giving all of ourselves to God and to one another. Jesus emptied himself and so can we. I think, if we do, we will find that love fills in all of the empty cracks and crevices of our lives and gives us the strength to set down our baggage of contempt. In giving ourselves up and emptying ourselves, God fills us with the power to change the world. May it be so for you, for me, for all of us. It’s time to go “all in.”
Amen.
[1] Henri Nouwen, The Selfless Way of Christ, p.69-70