Beware of Your Good Deeds—for Lent

Ash Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Matthew 6.1-6, 16-21

Strange, on this first day of the season of Lent, a season historically marked by intentional practices of piety, that in our gospel text Jesus warns us against these very practices. Most of us are familiar with the practice of “giving up” something for Lent; giving up chewing gum was a popular Lenten discipline in my high school days. Scripture calls for three specific pieties for the faithful: almsgiving, prayer and fasting. I suppose chewing gum fell under the rubric of fasting.

Here, in his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is very clear: BEWARE of almsgiving, prayer and fasting. BEWARE of the very practices God requires of us. Jesus does not say that we are to be the guardians of how others live out their piety. We are to concentrate on ourselves and, particularly, our own “good deeds” and our motivations.

The U.S. claims that standing in solidarity with the State of Israel is one of its good deeds—standing with the victims who suffered so terribly during the holocaust. We claim to stand with a democracy surrounded by hostile nations. Isn’t it noble to stand with those who suffer, to stand with those whose lives are endangered simply because of their ethnicity? Who could possibly argue against such a heroic undertaking?

But Jesus warns us to examine our motivations—are we really noble heroes protecting the weak and powerless, the widow and the orphan? Jesus calls on us to discern what God might be calling us to do as we participate in this conflict between two peoples who wish to inhabit the same land. What is God’s will for these people and for their land and how can help bring it about?

It is easy for me, having seen how Palestinians are persecuted and demeaned under Israeli occupation, to point the finger at the evil Israelis who bulldoze houses, shoot non-violent protesters in the streets and imprison children who throw stones. It’s always easier to point the finger at others’ motivations—much harder to examine my own. But here is Jesus, reminding us that it is my own house I must examine, not Israel’s. Even though I do not carry the gun or drive the bulldozer, how do my own tax dollars work in Israel to support the weak and powerless?

What I see when I visit Israel and Palestine, is that my tax dollars bought guns and ammunition used to destroy property and people in Gaza last year. One Palestinian friend whose family was not allowed to leave Gaza to come with him for graduate studies in Denver, told about his daughter’s puzzlement: “Daddy, these airplanes and missiles are from where you are, from America.” My tax dollars have been used to construct checkpoints where Palestinians wait in long lines every day just to get to work; my tax dollars have been used to fund an army that bulldozes Palestinian homes simply because they cannot get a permit to add a bedroom.

I cannot blame Israel—I have not bothered to pay attention to how my money is used. U.S. unconditional military support for Israel (2.3b in 2008) —this is not Israel’s problem; it is mine. The foreign aid I have supplied to Israel has been used to assuage my conscience for atrocities committed sixty-seventy years ago, when the world chose to turn its back on the Jews, refusing to intervene in the killings or to accept the millions of refugees fleeing the carnage. But it has not brought about justice God demands for the people of the land, either for Israelis or for Palestinians. This Lent, as I ponder what I can do to bring peace and justice for the Palestinians and Israelis, Jesus’ sermon is a timely reminder for me to examine my own part in the oppression and violence.

Gracious God of mercy, as we enter into this season of introspection and penitence, preparing to remember your son’s life, death and resurrection, help us to examine our role in life, death and resurrection in our own small world where we seek to live out your justice and mercy. Help us find signs of your will and join in efforts to raise the dead where we live and work. Amen.