Rev. Melanie Miller

October 27, 2002

Matthew 22:34-46

This morning’s gospel lesson is very important. In fact, I believe it’s critical for a person of faith. It offers the purpose of life in a nutshell.

In our gospel lesson Jesus distills the religious law of his time into one central theme for living. Distilling religious law is a difficult task. Did you know that in the Jewish tradition, in Jesus’ day, there were 613 commandments? 248 positive commandments or the do’s. And 365 negative commandments. The don’ts. That’s 248 do’s and 365 don’ts. Quite a list! How many do’s and don’ts are on your list. Is it that long?

The conversation in today’s gospel lesson was a common one in Jesus time. They often talked about distilling all these dos and don’ts to one central religious or spiritual theme. To some central simple way to live. And this morning, two thousand and two years later we’re still having the same conversation. Do’s and don’ts? Which ones SHOULD you follow? Which one DO we follow? What is the greatest commandment? Amid the complexities our life, we want a vivid and memorable summary of Christian duty. We want the truth about life in a nutshell. What is the greatest commandment?

Well, here it is: Love God and love your neighbor. It’s as simple as that! Love God and Love your neighbor. We can all go home now!

Oh, but wait! Wait, wait wait…who’s my neighbor, how do I love my neighbor if I don’t know my neighbor? Luke deals with this questions…we all know the answer. Jesus tells us the story of Good Samaritan. So the answer seems to be, your neighbor is anyone in need. Matthew deals with a different questions. It mirrors Luke’s question, who is my neighbor. But Matthews question is, who is God? Who is God? Who is the Messiah? How do we love God if we don’t know God?

Matthew’s answer to the question isn’t as straight forward as Luke’s. and I wish it was…because Matthew's question is one with which I’ll always struggle. Yes, I can love God, the Creator, by praying, praising, thanking. But I personally think it’s very difficult to have, what the fundamentalists call, a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, when God is spirit. How does one have a personal relationship with spirit and truth?

I can’t separate the two commandments, loving God and loving my neighbor. And so for me loving God means seeing Christ in they eyes of my neighbors and in loving them I love God.

Yesterday, I had the unique opportunity to spend the day with 150,000 of my closest neighbors. I went to Washington D.C. to march in protest of the potential war on Iraq. I went to gather with my neighbors from around the country, from my old neighborhoods in Maine and Nebraska. And from my new neighborhoods New York and New Jersey where I now go to school once a week. My neighbors from around the country, 150,000 of them.

I rode to D.C. with some neighbors from the south. I rode in a bus that was sponsored by the Westchester Muslim Center in Mount Vernon. I was very excited about this possibility. I really don’t know many Muslims and still don’t know enough about my Muslim neighbors.

The morning got off to a rocky start. The bus was to leave at 6 AM. It was raining very hard when I left my home at 5:30. It was dark and wet, and as I drove down the Sprain, I decided where I really wanted to be was back in bed.

The 22 miles that I drove, through rain took me to a whole new world.

The bus didn’t leave until 7:30. We were waiting for everyone. Everyone is important. Finally at 7, a man got on the bus and said there were coffee and donuts in the next building if anyone would like some, he said, “ we’ll be together soon and then leave”. I enjoyed those donuts, I loved that coffee. And yes, we did leave soon. But we left without someone. I was sitting close to front of the bus so I heard the several hours of frantic cell phone calls trying to connect with this person who missed the bus. And in my mind, I couldn’t figure out the drama. The man was, after all, over an hour and half late. But, you see, he was important, he wanted to be there.

We arrived in D.C., without the late passenger, in time to hear Jesse Jackson speak and then we marched. Many of my neighbors along that road were remarkable. Some were dressed in military fatigues and wearing death masks. Some were punked out, with spiked pink hair, combat boots and multiple facial piercings. Some had gauged ears. At one point my marching neighbor was Mark Twain, or at least someone who looked just like him. One of the remarkable things about most of the people there was that they looked just like you and me. One elderly woman who walked with a cane, was wearing an appliqued sweatshirt that said Ohio. You can’t get more American than an Ohio Grandma. An Ohio grandma who told me she was marching because of the children. Yes, the Ohio children, but also the Iraqi children, she said. Because if you look closely you can see Christ in their eyes, too.

After the march, my Muslim neighbors from Mt Vernon fed my Ohio grandma neighbor. That’s right, to my huge surprise my new Muslim friends hauled huge vats of rice and curried chicken from under the bus where normally luggage is stored. I was served by Muslim men. They dished out amazingly generous portions to everyone one on the bus and everyone else within a half a mile radius. It was one of the most heart-warming experience I’ve had in a long time. And it was the best curry I’ve ever had! With food and with care and with smiles and with amazing hospitality I watch my Muslim neighbors love. And I wondered about their list of Dos and don’t. Love God and Love your neighbor.

All 150,000 of my neighbors went to D.C. to march for the children. Yes, the Ohio, Nebraska, Maine and New York children, but also the Iraqi children. Because if you look closely you can see Christ in their eyes, too.

The realities the Iraqi children face are hateful. Chuck Sudetic tells about the realities in a story that appeared in the Utne reader (March/April 2002) recently. He says,

The morgue at the Basra Pediatric Hospital has one electrical fixture. It is an overworked cooler, and its motor groans as it fights back the desert heat that oppresses the city even in late autumn. This is the beginning of the off-season for death in Basra, a dust choked city of a million souls at the southern tip of Iraq. The cooler held only seven tiny bodies on the October afternoon I stared into it. They were wrapped in bedsheets and packed individually into sagging cardboard boxes, and they waited on shelves for family members to take them away for burial.

Had I been there during the high season for death, in midsummer, I might have seen a dozen small bodies stacked on the shelves. August temperatures in Basra push in to the 120’s. Dust and exhaust fumes foul the air. Stunted children splash in stagnant canals and pools of standing water rimmed with garbage, animal carcasses, and excrement. The bacteria count in the city’s water supply soars. Infants drink formula diluted with filthy tap water. And the morgue fills with the stench of the forgotten dead. These grim seasons were supposed to have ended in Basra by now. The CIA was supposed to have found someone to overthrow Saddam Hussein. The economic sanctions imposed on Iraq during the Gulf War a decade ago were supposed to have been lifted. And Iraq’s children were supposed to have stopped dying in droves from simple infections and diarrhea. But they haven’t. And throughout much of the world, blame for the suffering and death has been placed NOT on Saddam, where it belongs, but on the United States.

For ten years, the US has been the staunchest advocate of maintaining a tight blockade on Iraq’s access to foreign good and it’s oil revenues. These restrictions have failed to loosen Saddam’s grip on power. They have failed to force him to give up what is left of Iraq’s chemical, biological and nuclear programs. What the sanctions have done, however is kill. And they have killed more civilians than all the chemical, biological, or nuclear weapons used in human history. According to one estimate by an Iraq analyst, between 1991 and 1997 half a million Iraqis died of malnutrition, preventable disease, lack of medicine and other factors attributable to the sanctions, most were elderly people or children. The United Nations Children’s Fund puts the death toll during the same period of time at more than one million of Iraq’s 23 million people.

Even before the September 11 attacks on the World trade Center and the Pentagon, the Bush administration had been adamant about maintaining and ‘re-energizing the sanctions.

Some would say that the lesson to be learned from September 11 is that we must be even more aggressive in protecting what we see as our security interests. We must be even more aggressive in protecting ourselves from global neighbors. But perhaps that’s the wrong lesson altogether. It is worth remembering that the worst destruction done on US soil by foreign enemies was accomplished with little more than hatred, ingenuity and box cutters. Perhaps what we should learn from our own reaction to September 11 is that the massive destruction of innocents is something that is unlikely to be either forgotten or forgiven. If this is so, then destroying Iraq, whether with sanctions or with bombs, is unlikely to bring the security we have gone to such lengths to preserve.

Love God. Love your neighbor.

Simple? No, not at all.

Love God and love your neighbor.