Sermons

Jan 28 - The Rev. Brian C. Taylor - Only Kindness Matters

January 28, 2007
Only kindness matters
The Rev. Brian C. Taylor
Jeremiah 1:4-10, Psalm 71:1-6, 1 Corinthians 13:1-13, Luke 4:21-30

The reading we heard this morning from the letter of Paul to the Corinthians is one of the best-known passages of scripture, simply because so many people attend weddings. Love is patient and kind, not arrogant, irritable, resentful, stubborn, or rude. Love never ends; it endures and hopes all things… And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.

At weddings I like to look out and watch the faces of the congregation as this passage is read, because an interesting thing takes place. You can see a change take place in the body language. People become attentive, they wake up. Their faces become both serious and happy. Time seems to stand still. People seem to relax into something bigger than themselves.

I imagine that this is because we’re hearing something true. We’re hearing something that immediately, in an instant, makes us think about how we live, how we are in relationship with those we love. It has the extraordinary effect of placing us under judgment and giving us hope at the same time. It reminds us that we are made for love.

Tenzin Gyatso, otherwise known as the 14th Dalai Lama, is beloved all over the world. (Well, except maybe in the halls of power in Beijing). He radiates happiness, frequently giggling, as if he is in on a great and obvious secret. In fact, he is.

The Dalai Lama says My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness. There is no need for temples, no need for complicated philosophies. My brain and my heart are my temples; my philosophy is kindness. If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.

Or as the pop singer Jewel sang so simply, In the end, only kindness matters. Only kindness matters. And finally, Jesus: Love God and love your neighbor; this summarizes all the law.

Like those at a wedding, we sit up and take notice when we hear these words. We relax and smile, even as we stand under judgment, because we know we are hearing the truth. We may not be always patient and kind, we may not hope and endure all things right now.

But the truth of love and kindness stands like a distant shore on the horizon; it is the direction in which we continually reset our rudder. We have a long way to go to live into these words, but it is our destination. We know that love is the way that leads to God, to happiness for all.

However. Let’s not get too sentimental here. Love isn’t always pretty. Life isn’t a Hallmark-card romantic wedding. Love itself sometimes obliges us to confront, to set boundaries, to express our anger. In today’s gospel, we see the practical effects of love that includes confrontation.

Jesus was in Nazareth, in his hometown synagogue. He uttered beautiful and inspirational words: good news for the poor, release for the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, freedom for the oppressed. He called it the year of the Lord's favor. Today, we hear that after he said this, all spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came out of his mouth. So far, so good. He should have stopped while he was ahead.

But then Jesus confronted his neighbors. He knew well that they liked to hear pious things about healing and freedom, but when he began to do these things, he would create enemies. These neighbors of his would not be happy when he pronounced forgiveness all on his own, without having any religious authority. They would not be happy when he included among his friends the people they shunned. They would not be happy when he pointed out their hypocrisy and greed.

Remember, Jesus did this all in the name of love, not hatred. He did it so that people might turn towards God and live. But he knew that he would create enemies with this kind of love. And sure enough, his neighbors in Nazareth turned on him. They tried to throw him off a cliff, but he got away. The hometown prophet of love was chased away like a rabid dog.

The Dalai Lama is not all sweetness and light, either. He has risen up to protect his people, as an outspoken critic of the atrocities of the Chinese government against his beloved Tibet; that’s why he won the Nobel Peace prize in 1989. Thousands of his people have been slaughtered, and their ancient and beautiful culture systematically destroyed. The Buddhist monasteries that were the center of their noble and peaceful society were emptied out, torn down. Tenzin Gyatso is human, and so he no doubt feels anger towards the Chinese. He has to work with his emotions. That’s why he calls kindness a practice.

There is an Eastern Orthodox practice of contemplation known as The Prayer of the Heart. In this prayer, one is advised to soften the heart towards God, to warm it with love, gratitude, and contrition. We are to hold ourselves lovingly before God, vulnerable and real, tender and hopeful, like a newborn baby.

But they also recommend another simultaneous attitude in this prayer. And that is something like a watchful and protective guardian standing over that vulnerable baby – a sharp mind, ready to identify thoughts and emotions that take us from God, and to cast them out. A tender heart and a sharp mind, both at the same time.

In this form of prayer, we have a condensed teaching for how we can practice love in our lives: with a tender heart and a sharp mind, both at once. Without a sharp mind watching over it, love is like an unprotected baby, all alone in the world. God gave us our brains and our ability to distinguish between right and wrong. God gave us righteous anger, our determination to set things right. All of this is included in love.

When we are personally abused, when there is unfairness in our workplace, when there is injustice and violence perpetuated by political leaders in our name, love demands that we awaken the watchful and protective guardian. Otherwise, the tender baby of goodness will be destroyed. Love must sometimes protect of the good.

Sometimes we have to protect others, including our friends or family. We protect the poor, the vulnerable, the innocent victims of war and economic greed. And sometimes we have to protect ourselves by saying No; you won’t treat me like this. I will not be your victim.

But we do so in the name of love, not because our pride is offended or out of a desire to get even or to win. This means that even though our practice of love may take us through periods of protective anger, it aims towards kindness as the end result. It is not satisfied with division and resentment as a destination, in each and every situation. It’s not like in some cases, we make our ending point hard feelings, and in other cases, we go further into forgiveness and love.

God is love, and as children of this divine love, we have no business stopping – in any circumstance - with a protective or aggressive stance towards the world; this is not our intended end. Love is our horizon. In some cases, it may take us a long time to get there, perhaps our whole life, but it remains our horizon nonetheless.

And so we express the hard things in order to get to a place of fuller and more complete kindness. We awaken the sharp-minded guardian to protect the vulnerable baby of love, so that this baby may grow and flourish and fulfill its purpose, so that it may become the dominant reality of our life.

Love is a practice. It is not a constant sentiment. It is a practice where in spite of how others may treat us, in spite of temporary states of frustration or righteous anger, we continually reset our rudder in the ultimate direction of love. Love never ends, because it is always our goal. Even though we must pass through bitterness along the way, we do not stop there. We reset our rudder and continue towards respect for every child of God, especially our enemies. We move towards a desire for the good of all, whether others deserve it or not. We practice compassion.

As we journey towards the horizon of love, we discover that a change takes place in us along the way, long before we reach the final shore. Our heart is softened and warmed, we are made grateful and generous. And we discover that obvious secret that gives such joy: The greatest of all things is love. If you want to be happy and make others happy, practice compassion. In the end, only kindness matters.