Sermons

“The World Between Can and Should”

Romans 14:5-6, 13-17; I Samuel 24:1-11 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn

Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – July 5, 2015

Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words that your grace might fill our hearts and sanctify our liberty to your glory. We pray in the name of Jesus, Amen.

It seems fitting to reflect a little on liberty today. So often this time of year, there is a heightened exchange of bromides implying that we take our freedom for granted. But I wonder sometimes if we should be more concerned about taking advantage of it. “It’s a free country,” we insist. “I can do whatever I want!” And in some very real sense, that is true. But just because we can do something, that doesn’t make it a good idea. There is a whole world of difference between ‘can’ and ‘should’. It’s that world, where liberty is a little fuzzy and all our choices have consequences, that I want to talk about today.

The story we heard from First Samuel has a great case study of this dilemma. Saul is still king, but he’s read the writing on the wall well enough to know that his days are numbered, though he’s loathe to believe it. He is Saul, the King; he will simply destroy this threat to his power, this David who had been like a son to him. Thus, David is on the run. David has been told that God will deliver Saul into his hands, and it’s pretty clear God is planning for David to become king. But something about this day makes it not the day. It’s such a dramatic story. Saul, the ferocious warrior coming out into the wilderness, and falling victim to that most common of human weaknesses, the need to relieve himself. The silliness of him going into a cave to do so, without stopping to wonder what might be hiding deeper in the darkness.

And then the daring, the chutzpah, the stealth of David sneaking up behind Saul to clip off part of his cloak. Anyone else, when given this opportunity – the man who is hunting you caught off guard in the shadows – why not just cut his throat? But David knows that just because you can do a thing, doesn’t mean you should. Instead, he uses the situation to demonstrate his loyalty. He slices off a bit of proof that when given the chance to kill Saul, he wouldn’t. A man with restraint like that could make a very good king. Or at least a very good citizen. There is a world of difference between ‘can’ and ‘should’.

When I compare David’s story to our current situation, it throws into relief the contrast in our uses of liberty. In our civic discourse these days, it seems we are overly obsessed with our “rights”. We demand the full complement of everything that’s coming to us, whether we need it or not. We insist on living in the world of Can. But David’s story invites us to pause and wonder if that’s really the best way forward.

I want to discuss a recent Supreme Court decision now, not because of the outcome, but because of the nature of the question. In “King v. Burwell,” the Court was asked to discern whether four admittedly poorly chosen words of a law could overturn the implementation of the law. Regardless of your opinions about the law or the decision, this is an interesting question about interpretation. Whether it’s law or scripture or our own lives and speech, it’s important to reflect on whether meaning and truth come from tiny parts judged in isolation, or whether weighing the subject as a whole is a better approach. All of us have had a moment when the words that came out of our mouths were not only awkward or rude, but even the total opposite of what we really meant or felt. We make mistakes. We get ahead of ourselves. We don’t think before speaking. And fortunately for most of us, there isn’t anyone following us around recording our every utterance. Can you imagine having your whole life judged by the ten rudest comments you’ve ever made, with no chance to explain or apologize or point out all the wonderful, encouraging, thoughtful things you’d done and said over your lifetime? We could try to hold each other accountable for every word, but should we?

The truth is that our liberty works better when it’s surrounded by grace. We don’t have to do everything we’re free to do. We’re better off when we choose to give each other the benefit of the doubt, rather than jumping on any opportunity to prove someone else a horrible person. Just because we have a right to something, doesn’t mean we need to flaunt it. There is a world of difference between ‘can’ and ‘should’.

I want to take a moment here, because I know there are those of you who don’t like the word ‘should’. Forcing too many ‘shoulds’ and ‘shouldn’ts’ on people is a turn-off, we know. And yet, I’m not ready to concede this word. To say one thing should be done over another is to exercise judgment. And though judgment itself has gotten a bad reputation in some quarters these days, it is the way we tell the difference between right and wrong. Actions have consequences. It is simply true that some choices are better than others. To pretend otherwise would be irresponsible.

Rules without explanation are not particularly helpful, but if we can help our children and one another understand why one choice is what ‘should’ be done, rather than something else, we all grow in wisdom and righteousness. We are a free people, living in a free country, so we have many, many options every day. But there is a world of difference between ‘can’ and ‘should’. Liberty must be tempered with mercy and grace.

I think about this sometimes when I contemplate the debate around guns in this country. As you can probably imagine, I am a strong advocate for sensible gun control. But I think sometimes that what’s gone wrong is that we’ve gotten too focused on rights and regulations. What if the conversation were instead about how we can best live together as a nation of neighbors? I see someone who is insisting on their right to carry a gun openly into any situation they choose, and I want to say: “Hey there. I see that’s it’s important to you that you have the right to have that gun here. And you do. But here’s the thing – guns make a lot of us really anxious. Many of us don’t have that much experience with guns, and even less experience with you personally. I know you don’t want to intentionally make people anxious, since I’m sure you know that’s not good for anybody. You’re probably a really nice person, and you probably want to use that gun, if you use it at all, to help people. But I’ve only barely met you, so maybe you can understand that the rest of us can’t assume for sure that you’re one of the good guys. Some people walking around have trauma from their pasts regarding guns, and I’m worried about the effects you having your gun out here could be having on them. I know you don’t intend them harm. Also, I know that I make mistakes all the time, and jump to conclusions, and what if something did happen, but it was confusing, and you did something that couldn’t be undone? I wonder if you’ve fully considered the impact of you enjoying your rights on the rest of us. Because I’m pretty sure you want to consider yourself a good neighbor and citizen, and not someone who doesn’t care about other people.”

There is a world of difference between ‘can’ and ‘should’, and our liberty must be tempered with grace if it’s going to bring glory to God. This is not nearly as easy as I’m making it sound. I have a confession to make, mostly because I have lost the chance to apologize. Last night, as you know, some of gathered in Santee to watch the fireworks. Once we got to the park and had set up our chairs, I had that same problem as Saul, so I wandered off to find the communal cave. There was, as I’m sure you can imagine, a long line. I waited and waited. Indeed, it took so long that by the time I got back to our spot, the fireworks were about to start, and some people had forgotten I was there! But here’s what I didn’t tell you about my trip to the bathroom: Right about the time I got to the head of the line, two young women came into the ladies’ room, walking right past the line. I was at that place where you wait, right where the first stall starts, so that you can go into whichever one opens up first. And these two girls came in, past everyone else, and parked themselves up against the wall, in front of me, across from the second or third stall. I was flabbergasted. I was appalled. I was disgusted. I was not about to let this injustice stand. “You know, there’s a whole line here,” I started to say. And then the stall closest to me opened up, so I made a bee-line, lest these cheeky usurpers think they were getting in ahead of me. “Yes, I’m aware,” one of them said as I locked myself in. And then, as I had my moment alone, I realized what I’d done. Had it occurred to me to wonder if perhaps one of them was having crowd or large space anxiety and just needed to come inside to wait? Had I thought to worry that maybe someone outside had been harassing them, and they were seeking sanctuary? Was there a bad situation here that I had just made much worse by being defensive rather than charitable? I don’t really know what happened while the door was shut, but I have a feeling I was the one who ended up looking like a jerk. I had planted my flag firmly in the world of ‘Can’, and I regretted it almost immediately. I have no way of apologizing, so instead I’m confessing to you. Since First Samuel already brought up the issue of unfortunate bathroom encounters, I figured this was as good a time as any. There is a world of difference between ‘can’ and ‘should’, and our liberty must be tempered by grace.

In his letter to the Romans, Paul gets at how complicated this can be. He is a free man, that Paul, and he was vigilant about making sure no one was the boss of him except Christ. But even Paul understands that our rights are really not the point. Not if we’re trying to follow Jesus. It may be totally within your rights for you to do something, but that doesn’t mean it’s not going to damage someone else if you do it around them, or in another way that affects them. Whether it’s judging others based on tiny snippets of their conversation, or flaunting weapons that have unknown emotional impact on those around us, or refusing to give someone the benefit of the doubt in a public restroom, there is a world of difference between ‘can’ and ‘should’. I know which world I’d like to live in. I know which kind of liberty feels more worthy of celebration to me. I’m not always very good at it, but this national holiday has given me occasion to try harder. May David’s restraint and Paul’s wise counsel be ever-present with us as we live out our shared liberty and give thanks to God for it! Alleluia and Amen!