Out In Scripture Archive

What's Out in the Conversation
A conversation about this week's lectionary Bible passages

Today's lectionary texts provide us with an opportunity to think through the human practice of vengeance, the hope of liberation and the prospect of forgiveness. Exodus 12:1-14 is familiar to many — recounting the institution of the first Jewish Passover. The surface rationale behind this dramatic act of Passover is to force the hand of Egypt's ruler, who had refused to allow Moses to lead his people out of the land.

In this passage, vengeance is portrayed as judgment. It is not a judgement only upon a recalcitrant ruler, but also upon a society that refuses to allow those at its margins the ability to make their own choices and determine their own destinies — including its religious establishment. As the text says, &qout;I will strike down every firstborn in the land of Egypt . . . on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am [God]" (Exodus 12:12). Notice that Exodus 12:11 highlights how individuals are to live in readiness for liberation: dressed, shoes on, staff in hand, as if liberation had already occurred.

Many lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people do this constantly, serving the church or living in respectfully mutual "marriages" even while society continues to deny them first-class citizenship. Conversely, the Exodus story highlights how blinding and entranched oppressive systems can be. Martin Luther King Jr., in his "Letter from the Birmingham City Jail," was most certainly correct when he wrote, "We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed." In this narrative from the Bible, we are confronted with the possible result of a society grown deaf to those at its margins and blind to its own contaminating practices.

Alternatively, Exodus 12:4 highlights how several small families could share a lamb in neighborly solidarity. This simple act points to the importance of LGBT organizations making common cause with one another and with other social justice organizations in order to achieve liberating moment traditional ourtsiders (goats) are equally acceptable to God as those who are traditionally insiders (sheep). We are the revolution we are seeking to achieve!

Psalm 149 provides us with a perspective on vengeance from those who feel the need to be vindicated. The language is troubling — "Let the high praises of God be in their throats and two-edged swords in their hands" (verse 6) — but the sentiment is real. This troubling fantasy of liberation through violence is something that may make psychological sense to an oppressed community without power. It it not our obligation, however, in this day and age to insist that justice does not mean "reversing the tables," but rather putting an end to enmity and estrangement between and among all peoples?

Even in our more "enlightened" circles we must ask: In our attempts to be polite and nice, how often do we dismiss or deem inconvenient the real pain of those who have been mistreated? Also notice that we are told that God takes pleasure in human happiness (Psalm 149:1-4). The psalm reminds us that experiences of injustice are not overlooked by God, and the real pain of injustice must be allowed to find its voice. The punishment that those who hate bring upon themselves is they must hear the joyful praise of those who are in tune with God — having to witness "glory for God's faithful ones" (Psalm 149:9).

Ezekiel 33:7-11 presents us with an awesome and often scary responsibility, to "speak to warn the wicked to turn from their ways." How often have LGBT people been mislabeled the wicked and godless, but as the poet Audre Lorde pointed out, "Our silence will not protect us," so we must speak our truth and demand justice for ourselves and all peoples, along with the earth itself?

The irony is that LGBT people are not sinners because of our love, but rather ar the sinned against whenever same-gender loving people are falsely accused of blasphemy and worse. Yet the burden often falls on us to educate and prod others, not just crass homophobes but the much larger majority of people who live "innocently" with heterosexual and other kinds of privilege. We must challenge them, as we need to challenge ourselves, to "turn from their [wicked] ways and live" by embracing differences as assets for community-building and by exhibiting an unquenchable passion for justice. Yes, indeed, LGBT people also need to examine our own unearned privileges that we hold onto "innocently" and be held accountable for how we use our relative social power and privilege — whether of gender, race, class, religion or nationality. Ezekiel 33 emphasizes that as the sentinels of a just God, oppressed people must speak up for justice.

What are my unearned privileges? In what ways will I live a life that seeks justice in concert with those who are marginalized?

The New Testament passages for toay supply us with yet another vision of vengeance. It may not be readily apparent that Romans 13:8-14 addresses the topic of vengeance, but that is the background conversation to what is stated here openly. When the apostle Paul writes, "Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law," he is calling his readers and hearers to embrace a way of life distinctly different from what was customary (Romans 13:10). Retaliation, grudges, feuds, even the evil eye and curses were the order of the day. Individuals and entire families (even over succeeding generations!) could get caught up in a never-ending cycle of repayment for past wrongs.

More immediately, for LGBT people facing same-sex domestic violence, the declaration that love does no harm is instructive and potentially redemptive. These couples face two problems: the abuse in the relationship and the hostile cultural context that does violence to the relationship. These problems make it difficult to turn to the outside for help and many only compound one's vulnerability and suffering. One of our challenges is to shatter the myth that intimate violence does not take place in same-sex relationships, breaking th cycle of violence that keeps us confined to the old way of living. Another is to listen to LGBT survivors of violence, and welcome their anger and support their empowerment. We need to engage in a critique of socially and religiously sanctioned homophobia that fuels such abuse. We offer hope when we reconstruct our theologies so that they truely honor all peoples, our LGBT selves included, and insist that each and every creature, human and non-human, deserves to be treated with respect and live in safety.

Romans 13:9-14 employs two cross-dressing images to emphasize love as the fulfilling of the law. We are told to "put on" the armor of light and to "put on" the Lord Jesus Christ, discarding the uncomely attire of our separate egocentric desires in favor of a communal peace with justice. Love (agape) not only overcomes such things, it seeks to avoid them in the first place. It not only stops violence, love keeps it from reigniting. Agape is that quality of love that initiates and reaffirms relationship, especially when it has been or is about to be broken. The individual who awakens and breaks through the "night" of the "drama triangle" lives "honorably as in the day" of new possibilities for relationship (13:13). (The "drama triangle" is a social script in which an individual is continually either a victim, persecutor or rescuer.)

Because individualistic self-concern is often self-destructive, cross-dressing with the light of Jesus teaches us to love ourselves as the basis for loving others and thus becoming whole. As Archbishop Desmond Tutu once wrote about the situation in his own country, "All South Africans were less whole than we would have been without apartheid. Those who were privileged lost out as they became more uncaring ... and therefore less human ... The victims often ended up internalizing the definition the top dogs had of them" [No Future without Forgiveness (New York: Doubleday, 2000) 196-197].

What injustice have I committed against another for which I need to ask God's forgiveness as well as that of the person upon whom I committed the injustice? What injustice have I experienced for which I need to lift my voice to God and some other trusted person?

A complementary process for avoiding the practice of vengeance is presented in Matthew 18:15-20. From our perspective, the text provides a precise set of regulations for "outing" the more powerful members of oppressed groups who regularly misuse their power to hurt their own group — such as closeted LGBT preachers or politicians who argue for the rejection of openly LGBT people. The process is presented in three parts: confrontation with words in private (18:15); negotiation with possibly a small committee visitation or registered letter (18:16); and adjudication as a last resort public outing (18:17). Far beyond the simplistic idea of "turning the other cheek" (5:39), believers are encouraged — in fact, called on — to work through their disagreements without resorting to destructive retaliation. Matthew is the only gospel to use the word "church" and highlights the role that community of believers in helping restore broken relationships. In fact, the practice of reconciliation among believers suggests a context of worship — "I am there among them" (18:20). Too much emphasis should not be placed on the act of exclusion prescribed in 18:17. This clearly illustrates a borderline case for the writer of Matthew. The individual who is to be regarded as "a Gentile and a tax collector" represents someone who refuses to be in community and rejects the counsel of others. It is through the power of solidarity with others, however, even just two or three others, that we achieve peace with justice (Matthew 18:19-20).

Year A

Year B

Year C

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (Proper 18), Year A

In Place of Vengeance