By Harry T. Cook

Matthew 10: 34-43

Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth, so Matthew depicts Jesus as saying. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. This is not a happy text. It speaks of division and discord among people who should be happy together, i.e., the family that is the church.

Is it possible that the speaker of the “not peace but a sword” word is the same one of whose coming it was said would bring peace, good will among men? Which is it? How could it be both? How could the supposed agent of peace be the agent of discord and division?

Part of what surely persuaded and persuades our Jewish sisters and brothers that Jesus of Nazareth was not and is not messiah is that he did not bring in the reign of shalom and good will. In fact, the effect of his appearance on the public scene was the antithesis of peace. It brought conflict, and it seemed to have been purposeful, or so Jesus is depicted as having said in this very text before us.

For all of its fervid prayers and aspirations for unity, the consistent mark of the church, lo these two millennia, has been division. For example:

* the several centuries of controversy over what was orthodoxy and what was heresy;

* the papal intrigues of the 14th century, which featured murder, poisoning and other dark arts;

* the estrangement and bitterness of the Reformation and Counter-Reformation;

* the brutal theocracy of John Calvin’s Geneva;

* the crazy quilt of American Protestantism and the specter of Protestants protesting other Protestants;

* the division of churches over abolition vs. slavery;

* the fracturing of church relationships over civil rights, the Vietnam and Iraq wars, the ordination of women and the acceptance of gay and lesbian persons.

Meanwhile, the Book of Common Prayer includes several well-loved and much-used prayers for unity. Their inclusion may reflect the maxim of St. Thomas Aquinas to the effect that it is legitimate to pray for that which it is legitimate to desire. Yet, in a dynamic and prophetic religion, division seems inevitable. It is part of the deal; it is, like the poor, always to be with us. The issue is how to deal with it. Martin Luther dealt with it by refusing to recant. Rome dealt with Luther by excommunicating him. Calvin dealt with division by burning Servetus at the stake. What I have learned – and learned the hard way – is that relationships are no less important than ideas. We are called into community; why, we know not. No community of any kind anywhere can avoid periodic division and discord. It’s like what physicists describe as the natural disorder in the universe. A couple that experiences discord deals it by continuing to love one another while working things out. Estranged parents and children do the same as can races, peoples and nations, if only they would.

The fact remains, though, that Jesus divides us because his ethic is so uncompromising and demanding. Doctrine divides us because it is thought to proceed from revelation rather than reason. And he or she or they who claim to have received the revelation know – they just know what is the truth. The problem is that different people claim different revelations. An Episcopal bishop, now retired, named R. Stewart Wood used to say that it’s not so much the fact of disagreement or division that is the issue, but how a community manages it and stays together. It was Bishop Wood’s idea that one never walks away from the conversation, doesn’t leave the table. The bishop’s wisdom may proceed from the central place that the Table occupies in the liturgical space of his religion. It is the focal point of the community’s gathering at which all eat one bread and drink from one cup. It is at the Table that division and discord have the best chance of being resolved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ADDENDUM: Commentary on last week’s Supreme Court 2nd Amendment ruling “A Well-Regulated Shoe Store” Legal scholars of the Federalist Society kind together with rightist conservatives are having a jubilee over the majority opinion in District of Columbia vs. Heller, which flowed out of the high-octane pen of Justice Antonin Scalia. Mr. Justice Scalia wrote as if he meant for his ruling to be received with the same awe and reverence as Verdi’s Aida or Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. I am not part of the standing ovation. I am sitting on my hands and wondering how plain English could have eluded Justice Scalia in the preparation of his ex cathedra-like ruling. Not being a lawyer (yet), I am in no position to cavil with his legal scholarship. Any number of constitutional law professors around the country, though, say they admire the justice’s reasoning in this case. No doubt it is masterful. My problem with the ruling is not with the idea that the right of gun ownership or possession may be, in fact, protected by the Second Amendment. However, it makes me nervous that persons I know (and in some cases love) keep loaded handguns on their person or in their homes or even under their pillows for purposes of self-defense. I hate the Wild, Wild West concept such a practice suggests. As a long-time professional writer of the English language, my main wonderment at the Scalia opinion is its stupefying comments about the so-called “prefatory clause” (a well regulated Militia being necessary to the security of a Free State). Mr. Justice Scalia said, in effect, that the mention of the militia is only marginally related – it at all – to the “operative clause” being the right of the people to keep and bear arms. That is tantamount to saying that the framers really meant to say that the people (and who might they be?) had a constitutional right to have guns. Period. By that reasoning, the justice’s “prefatory clause” could just as well read “a well regulated shoe store being necessary to the security of a free state” or a well regulated hot dog stand or a well regulated bordello. What’s more, I hope that somewhere in the next go around on Second Amendment law the justice who ends up writing the majority opinion will tell us what the framers meant by “well regulated.” Could they have meant something like the District of Columbia’s ordinance now of non-effect because of last week’s high court ruling?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

© Copyright 2008, Harry T. Cook. All rights reserved. This article may not be used or reproduced without proper credit.