The Path to Grace
Sermon Notes Sunday 15th October
Doug Bannerman
Pentecost 20 Matthew 22.1-14
The majority should have had the grace to deliver for the minority.
But we failed the grace test. (Katherine Murphy)
I am in profound disagreement with today’s gospel, and I disagree with the inclusion of this parable in what purports to be good news, a parable that exemplifies the Roman Empire in every way.
Empire bespeaks a centralized social power structure of hierarchy, violence, slavery, poverty, injustice; absolute values imposed absolutely. It bespeaks a voiceless, oppressed, population which has been subjugated for so long, that it is, by and large, unconscious of its situation. Think TikTok, or any of the social platforms that promulgate misinformation.
Three points.
This gospel encourages us to regard all synagogues as places of hypocrisy and violence, Jewish leaders as hypocrites and murderers. (4.1-11; 12.34; 16.1-14; 19.3).
This gospel predominantly focuses on men; and although Matthew does reject patriarchy (19.3-12; 23.8-12), his frequent use of the phrase ‘God the Father’ strongly suggests a divine patriarchy ruled by God.
This gospel does explicitly resist and expose the violent oppression of the Empire (Chs 2; 14.1-12; 20.20-28; 22.15-22); however, the alternative to Rome’s Empire, God’s Empire, uses the identical term, Empire, together with the concept of supreme power.
So, Matthew imitates precisely what he rejects. In its enforcement of God’s will to solicit compliance (do it or else), God’s empire resembles Rome’s use of power. And Matthew’s treatment of these issues of ethnicity, gender, and power, assumes the audience will go along with the story, accept its violence, hatred and oppression; and accept the value that opponents are simply impediments to be overcome by whatever means.
Now, in theory, democracy is much the better way. So, citizens of democracy might consider opponents to be uninformed, mistaken, unwise, or naïve; overly cautious or needlessly impatient; or perhaps that they are animated by a different hierarchy of values, that yields a moral intensity distinct from, but nonetheless commensurate with, our own. But, in practice, there seems to be considerable reluctance in Australian society to consider what it might mean to proceed together meaningfully as partners in shared democratic projects.
We value free speech; but what makes speech truly free is the possibility of disagreement without enmity. Yet again, in practice, opponents come to regard each other as bigoted, toxic, dangerous, malignant, wilfully ignorant, cynically self-interested, fundamentally dishonest, inferior – and hence incapable of good-faith disagreement.
Consequently, opponents become symbols to be appropriated for the prosecution of our own politics. And what matters then, is not what our opponents actually say or do, but rather what we have decided they stand for.
Democracy is not just a form of government. It is also the moral aspiration for a society of self-governing political equals. Citizens are called on to be active democratic participants, but they must also acknowledge one another's political equality. Democracy thus involves an ethic of civility among opposed citizens, in which it is OK to disagree about a choice of actions to take.
Furthermore, as Robert Talisse wrote, ‘democracy is the proposition that a stable and decent society can be maintained in the absence of lords, masters, sovereigns, superiors, and kings. Democracy is the rejection of political hierarchy.
This insight imagines society as a dynamic organism in which people are open to changing their preferences and interests in the light of their interactions with others. Not merely a process of assertion and grudging compromise, but one of being mutually influenced as equal participants in a common effort; thereby cultivating the moral dispositions of sympathy, generosity, forbearance and mutual trust, qualities on which true democratic life depend.
In short, democracy lives by and through acknowledgements of the moral reality of other persons. No democratic society can long withstand the corrosive effect of widespread envy, disdain, disgust, resentment, grudgingness, spitefulness and contempt.
The greatest danger to the stability of democratic life is not when disagreements become interminable, but when they become incommensurable, with no common standard of measurement – which is to say, when both parties get caught in a state of mutual incomprehension. Contempt thins out democracy until finally it reaches the point of dysfunction.
Contemporary political contempt tends to arise before moral consensus is achieved and tries to set new norms through intimidation, so as to redefine society’s moral parameters by brute force. Moralism without any of the hard work of moral persuasion. As Scot Stephens and Waleed Ali have noted,
Over the last decade, we’ve watched this dynamic play itself out repeatedly within and between opposing sides around such matters as sexual harassment and abuse, racial injustice, police brutality, climate change, membership of the European Union, vaccine hesitancy, LGBTIQ discrimination, religious freedom, and abortion. On each count, worthy goals of mutual consideration and common pursuit have been either brought undone or had their broader appeal severely compromised by the “hashtag politics” of moral intransigence – think (#GetBrexitDone, #BlackLivesMatter, #DefundthePolice, #SilenceIsViolence, #StayWoke, #ThereIsNoPlanetB, #IGotVaccinated, #SaveRoe, et cetera).
Declaration and posturing take the place of persuasion, claims of moral superiority undermine the hard work of gradual consensus-building, and the vigilante impulse for summary judgment rules out the possibility of complexity, ambiguity, degrees of complicity, or doubt.
In the middle of last Thursday night, when silence reigned and phantasies danced in my half-awake mind, I wondered if this is what Jesus would preach in this day and age about the democratic experiment that is Australia?
When Jesus announced the realm of God, he envisioned a society governed by love – more peaceful, more compassionate, more equitable, and more just. And I believe that planted deep in our hearts, this dream defines our mission as a Church community. We are called to transform the hearts, minds, and politics of our cities and towns, our states, our nations, and the entire global community.
A final word from the field of ethics …
It’s important to keep in mind that ethical, dilemmas do not necessarily have simple solutions that will satisfy everybody. Even reasonable people can disagree about what course of action to take in a given situation. That’s fine. The important bit is not really the answer you come to, but the reasons you give to support it. That’s what ethics is all about: finding good reasons to act the way we do.
The path to grace.
Doug Bannerman © 2023
Resources:
Scott Stephens, Waleed Ali ‘Uncivil Wars: How Contempt Is Corroding Democracy’ (Quarterly Essay 87, 2022)
Robert Talisse Sustaining Democracy (Oxford University Press 2021)
https://ethics.org.au/how-ethical-dilemmas-strengthen-our-moral-muscle/