The Gospel Challenge

By Amy Fleischauer, Guest Writer

As I was searching for veggie burgers at the grocery story the other night, an elderly woman commented, "Honey, you look so peaceful." I laughed out loud. I'm good at "anxious." "Irritated" seems to be something I've mastered. And as CNN updates me about the war in Iraq, "anger" creeps up pretty often. I want to be peaceful. I think about peace. Sometimes I hope for peace and I often send peace. But, instead of feeling peaceful, I go back to irritated.

Perhaps you were raised as I was with what I have come to term the "Milk and Cookies Jesus." This is the guy from the "let the children come to me" gospel story, the one who was always smiling and proud of me, the guy I went to first to make me feel better. But as I journey further into adulthood, I have formed a more real, and to be honest, contentious relationship with Jesus. Today, Jesus is the type of friend who is always poking at my side, challenging me to look at things from his point of view, to grow, to change, to wrestle with myself and my understanding of what makes sense. Today, when Jesus and I finish a conversation, it is not often peace that overwhelms me. Quite honestly, this friendship with Jesus is often exceedingly irritating.

Take for example this gospel passage:

You have heard it said, "Love thy neighbor, and hate your enemy." But I say to you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that use you; so that you may be the children of your Father in heaven.
(Matthew 5:43-45).

Does this irritate you as much as me? This is what I keep looking for in scripture:

Brothers and sisters, you need to love only those who agree with you and who give you exactly what you want when you want it. I understand that asking anything more is too hard. Rest assured that I, the Lord your God, disapprove of the same people you do and will punish them accordingly. When someone is mean or rude to you, it's understandable to stomp your feet, sulk stubbornly, and complain to others. I command you to console yourself with plenty of ice cream and take care of yourself.

Most days it's all I can do to not ram my car into the person who just cut me off, or to keep from screaming obscenities at the evening news. Maybe, just maybe, I can consider praying for my enemies. But that's not what the gospel says. If I read it correctly, I am supposed to not only love, forgive, and pray for those who hurt me; I am supposed to become their advocate. This seems unreasonable, and is something I plan to bring up with God when we meet.

It's hard for me to believe that Jesus loves Saddam Hussein, Timothy McVeigh, men who hit women, people who hurt animals, the professor who gave me that "C," the bully at school, and all of my ex-boyfriends just as much as he loves me. Anne Lamott says, "It drives me crazy that God seems to have no taste, no standards. Yet on most days, that is what gives some of us hope." (Plan B, Further Thoughts on Faith, 2005) It's also hard to believe that Jesus loves my ugliness as much as he loves my good parts. The enemy within is something I need to forgive and show compassion to as well.

To be a follower of Jesus, compassion, forgiveness, and peace are non-negotiable. I don't get to decide who deserves my forgiveness and compassion. It's easy, then, to think of my compassion and forgiveness as a gift to my enemy, an unselfish act. But, again, Jesus challenges me. Being compassionate is not about changing my enemy, although it may. Forgiveness is not about changing the one who hurt me, although it does. Jesus asks me to choose compassion and forgiveness because it changes ME . . . or, as Esther Armstrong said in a Journey into Freedom Newsletter, "Forgiveness requires giving God permission to change your heart — to love beyond your imagining."

I once read, "Peace does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart." This seems to describe my current relationship with Jesus. Most days, I fail miserably at being a channel of his peace, in the way Sarah Hart sings in Make Me a Channel. But Jesus gives me that hopeful vision of peace and lovingly tells me to try again. And on some days, proving that he remains my good friend, he tells me to also get some ice cream.

Let us pray using Sarah Hart's version of the Prayer of St. Francis:

Make me a channel of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
And bring forgiveness to the place of injury.
Make me a channel of your peace.
Make me a vessel of your truth.
Make me a channel of your peace. Amen.

Spirit Compass reflections are developed in partnership
with the Center for Ministry Development.