Going the Extra Mile

Matthew 5: 38-42

You have heard that it was said,’ An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.‘ But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.

This teaching of Jesus is a hard one. It flies in the face of our rights-based thinking, the assumption that we have in our world that when we are mistreated there ought to be a comeback. We all know our rights, we know what people can and can't say and do to us. We can spot discrimination a mile away. Protection of our rights and other's rights is part of how we understand goodness. And here is Jesus saying turn the other cheek, give your cloak to the person who is suing you for your coat, and go the second mile.

The law of Jesus‘ day gave a Roman soldier the right to command a Jew to carry his pack for one mile. It was a situation of racial inequality, of oppression. One might expect Jesus to be teaching Jewish self-determination...if someone forces you to walk a mile, resist! Drop the soldier's pack down a well. You are the people of God, don't let yourselves be treated like this!

But he says the opposite - if someone forces you to go one mile, walk a second mile. It's become one of our habitual sayings - to’ go the extra mile', we understand to mean to do more than is necessary, to give or help or work harder than is expected.

What is the wisdom in this saying for us? The main thing that this passage says to me is that even when we're subject to coercion, the ability to give makes us free, and generates an energy of freedom in the world around us. Slavery is always involuntary, and it enslaves not only the person who is in bondage, but the people or the group that has to structure its activities so as to enforce the bondage. So in a situation where we have little or no choice, to voluntarily give something, is to exercise our freedom and reclaim our self-hood. And, in doing it, we tweak the nature of things to let in a little more light for everyone.

Mostly, in our modern lives, the thing that holds us in the greatest slavery is our own ego. And by that I don't mean pride, or self-esteem. I mean our habitual self, our false self, all the various reactions and mannerisms and assumptions and ideas that we have built up over the years, and that have become our story about who we are, what we think, what we are like, and how we want or expect the world to treat us. Most of how we act and react in the world is designed to protect at all costs the self that we are comfortable with. Even when my habitual ego story is negative, when I tell myself repeatedly that I am a victim, or a bad person, or inadequate in some way, I would often rather hang on to that self image than go through the pain of change and growth. Because, as Jesus taught us, the cost of change is to die to the person we think we are, in order to create space for the person that God knows us to be.

What does this have to do with generosity? When we give in such a way as we are attentive to, and focused on, another person, even one who has harmed us, for a moment we are freeing ourselves from the slavery that says I am the most important person in the room. And we are exercising free will, free choice, not to obey any demands...not the demands of the self, or the demands of the other. Instead we are embracing the invitation of love, which is always a free gift.

Stephanie Dowrick writes’ you are walking that extra mile to express that you can make choices - that the quality of your life is in your own hands - and that you are choosing positively rather than negatively. Every choice that expresses love is a positive choice.‘ She goes on to say that when I have been wronged, and my ego reacts in its usual way, and I choose to go on giving rather than withdrawing or hurting back, then I am’ achieving two vital things. First, I am freeing myself as well as the other person from the uncomfortable grip of my outrage. Second, I am showing myself that I do not need to be bound by negative circumstances created by another human being.'

Giving is an act of transcendence -when it happens freely (that is, without entrenching the roles of’ helper‘ and’ helped') it removes the sense of separateness between self and other. Henri Nouwen writes:’ It is my growing conviction that my life belongs to others just as much as it belongs to myself and that what is experienced as unique often proves to be the most solidly embedded in the common condition of being human.‘ (cited in Dowrick) When I walk the extra mile, or give my cheek or my cloak, the other person ceases to be my enemy, and becomes a fellow human who I am free to relate to with kindness, rather than out of victimhood. Giving connects me to all that is’ not me', in a well of compassion that unites rather than divides.

We can be overwhelmed when we look at the world and see the amount of suffering that people, and animals, and the earth, experience. But when we do one small thing to ease another's burden, we are not just salving our conscience, but identifying with an-other and activating love in the world. This love is God's love and it flows out beyond our small deeds to bring change beyond the smallness of what we were able to contribute.

The story in the gospels of the widow who gave two tiny coins to the treasury at the temple is an example of this. While the actual quantity of her gift was nothing compared to what others had to give, because it was done with sacrificial love, her gift has resonated through the centuries. Maybe God takes up our gifts and multiplies them in proportion not to their physical worth but to the love that inspired them.

This principle helps us to understand why prayer is never pointless, even when we are miles away from being able to offer a physical contribution to a situation of need. The gift we make in prayer is our willingness to’ feel with‘ another, to share for a moment their pain, which in the mystery of God's love, allows for some transformation of that pain. And it keeps us in the awareness of ourselves as identified with, rather than separate from, all other beings. If you want to explore that idea further, you might like to learn about the Tibetan Buddhist practice of’ Tonglen.'

Living in this kind of generosity requires that we exercise generosity towards ourselves, as well. When we have no compassion towards ourselves and our own needs, we are in no place to take the risk that comes with giving to others, especially when that giving opens us emotionally. A certain degree of psychological health is important here, because not all giving is good. The giving that comes out of shame, obligation, lack of boundaries, or poor self-esteem is an un-free giving. The person who is really free to give is the person who knows that giving does not make them any less, that they are not diminished by the act of giving. This is a divine equation, when subtraction leads to more, rather than less. It's not the maths of our world, but it's the calculus of heaven. Only someone who has a glimpse of this can give without conditions, and without grudge, or expectation of return.

The peace prayer attributed to St Francis says:’ It is in giving that we receive; It is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are raised to eternal life.‘ When a person gives sacrificially, when someone gives radically, in a way that costs them, a kind of love is born into the world that makes possible what was not possible before. This is one of the energies of Christ's resurrection. Because he gave and gave to the point of giving his life, and because he gave voluntarily and freely, a whole other life, eternal life...abundant life...exploded into being. Christ's death shows us the path we all must walk...the path of dying to self. His resurrection assures us that when we give, even when it's risky and painful, we are reborn.

What might this look like in practice? I'm assuming that most of us are rarely in situations where people want to hit us, rip us off, or force us to carry their packs for a mile. But we are often in situations where people make demands that irritate us, or seem unreasonable. Or when we feel backed into a corner. In these moments we can stand on our rights, and let the situation dictate to us, or we can act generously and open a window in a dark room.

Here are some examples...

Someone turns up at your house at a time when they know you're likely to be busy and stressed. Invite them in for a meal.

Someone asks for your help in moving house, but has failed to do any of their own packing before the day. Bring boxes and a trailer, and a container of muffins.

Someone owes you money and keeps forgetting to pay it back. Cancel the debt, and send them a card with a book voucher.

Someone who you feel should care for you is being neglectful. Do some concrete act of care for them on a regular basis.

Do these examples feel like a betrayal of boundaries? Of rights? Of self-care? Do they sound like they're enabling other people's poor behaviour? I confess, they seem that way to me. Maybe they're bad examples. Or maybe what Jesus teaches us flies radically in the face of some of the things we have come to take for granted about where and when generosity is appropriate. I'll leave them with you to discuss over morning tea, and finish with a poem by Joy Cowley, called’ Release':

Release

It was a bit like
the opening of a tomb, really,
the lids of the cage pulled back
and quick bright life spilling out
with an eagerness to fly.

As I watched the wingbeat
of those pigeons, I felt murmurings
against the bars of my heart.

All the love imprisoned within me
fluttered for release. Blessings unspoken,
smiles concealed, acts of kindness
which had never got off the drawing board,
clamoured for the light of day.

I wondered about the cost
of opening the cage
and letting love spread its wings.
I felt a bit frightened.

When I'd given everything away,
could I live with an empty heart?

What I'd forgotten, of course,
was the homing instinct of love,
and how, unlike pigeons,
love always returns
with more than it takes away.

The other thing I forgot
was how love enlarges the heart
to take its increase,
multiplying and enlarging,
multiplying and enlarging,
until the little cage
is as big as the Kingdom of Heaven.

—Joy Cowley, from Aotearoa Psalms: Prayers of a New People,
Catholic Supplies, 1989. 

Several ideas in this sermon were inspired by the’ Generosity‘ chapter in Stephanie Dowrick's’ Forgiveness and other acts of love.'