GENTLENESS: LOVE AS TEMPERED STRENGTH
Rev. Dr. Dennis Winkleblack
Prospect United Methodist Church
Bristol, Connecticut
September 6, 2009
Ephesians 4: 1-6
Matthew 11: 28-30
This morning of my return from vacation, I also return one last time to the series of sermons on the Fruits of the Spirit as St. Paul writes about them in Galatians 5:22: the qualities that evolve and develop in a Christian as he or she matures in faith. Today, we consider the fruit of “gentleness.”
One of the problems with announcing a series of sermons is that a pastor is bound to come to one part and find absolutely nothing to say. Today, this sermon may prove that. I've seldom had a more challenging topic than "Gentleness." In fact, with only two fruits of the spirit to go, I've questioned why Paul didn't quit after seven: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and faithfulness. Because the last two, gentleness and self-control are very, very hard sells. And, by the way, I’m not preaching on self-control next week. I am saving you from that. Rather, I will hold it for a Sunday when you’ve been very, very bad.
But, now back to Gentleness. Think about it: don't you think you're about as gentle as you need to be? That's my point! There you go! What could possibly be said about gentleness that we all don’t already know? So, shall we go home?
But, wait. If I were to turn it around, and if this were only a sermon for other people [not for me, of course, not for you, of course] but for all those other people in our lives: a spouse, a co-worker, a boss, a neighbor -- well, now then, don’t you think that's a whole other matter! I think we would likely agree that it's other people who ought to be listening to a sermon on gentleness!
But, that’s not really fair. Because I really believe that St. Paul knew things about us even gentle us that we don't know. Including, at some level, each of us, even the nicest among us, has more work to do in regard to being gentle as St. Paul meant gentle.
So, your honor, I'd like to present 2 pieces of evidence that will, I trust, convict all of us of the importance of gentleness in our lives. Exhibit A is from Jesus; Exhibit B is from Aristotle.
Exhibit A: You heard the Gospel read. Jesus saying "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls."
If you were to ask me the chief way I viewed Jesus as gentle I would say it was in the reality that he never forced himself or God’s way on anyone. I really believe Jesus would be offended by the strong-armed, manipulative tactics of many Christians trying to convert people to God's side.
Jesus didn't strong-arm people! Jesus was content to let the truth stand for itself, and let his deeds speak for themselves. He didn't manipulate; he didn't coerce; he didn't try to control. He trusted that God’s spirit and one’s inborn quest for God would find each other – or not. But strong-arming others was never his modus operandi. Instead, he behaved towards all people, even his enemies as a "gentle-man."
He got angry, of course. He always lost his cool with religious hypocrites, people who professed such faith but shamelessly lived quite the contrary: "You brood of vipers!" And, okay, there was the time he over-turned some tables of moneychangers in the courtyard of the temple.
But he always took pains not to be personally violent in word or deed toward even the greatest perpetrators of wrong.
Jesus was a gentle-man. "Learn from me," he said. "And you will find rest for your souls."
In seminary at Duke I took a senior seminar titled “Power and Restraint in the Parish.” It was one of the best practical courses I took. At its most simplest, its thesis was that sometimes what one doesn’t say or doesn’t do is much more powerful than forging ahead or issuing demands.
This has proven true not only in church leadership, but in my personal life. I’ve discovered that when my life gets out of control, as often as not it’s because I’m trying to force my ways on others rather than letting God do God’s things in my life and in theirs too.
So, then, how do we know if we’re being gentle enough with others and gentle enough with ourselves? Bearing in mind Exhibit A, I think we can know that being appropriately gentle when we experience Jesus’ promise of rest for our souls.
As you may know, Methodism has always placed great importance one’s inner feeling, this inner experience, this inner conviction of the truth, this blessed assurance of our faith. We feel our faith.
So, what does it mean if we’re not feeling “rest” for our souls, peace within? Likely it means that it’s time for us to power up our faith and our patience and work on being gentle with our life and with others.
But, you might ask, does this mean we don’t stand up for ourselves or to advocate for our well thought out positions or to strive mightily to reverse wrong-doing or to advance justice? No, of course not.
Here we enter exhibit B from Aristotle. Aristotle in his writings, probably not surprisingly, used the same Greek word (prautes) that St. Paul used for gentle. And by it, you students of philosophy will remember, gentle means "the mean, the middle ground of a temperament that displays neither too much anger, on the one hand, nor passivity on the other; the middle ground also between violence and apathy; between having too much pride and no pride at all."
In sum, Aristotle says that gentleness is the middle ground of emotions and behavior. Neither too much of anything, nor too little. A proper proportion. Whatever is the perfect fit for a particular situation.
With football season under way with pre-season games now completed, a thought did occur that says all this pretty well. I think even those who don’t care for football can follow what I'm saying:
Picture this: A 6'5" 260 pound tight end on a football team races down the field and then turns suddenly for a simple button-hook play. Two days prior, this tight end had been in the weight room lifting hundreds and hundreds of pounds of steel. His hands are twice the size of mine. He is a huge, strong man who has devoted the last 20 years of his life to being the strongest, fastest, toughest football player he can be.
The quarterback throws the ball. The cornerback and the strong safety have closed to within a foot of our tight end. As the ball arrives, they all leap in the air. Three world-class athletes, each the best there is. The tight end, though, having the advantage of knowing from the beginning what the play would be, having the advantage of hundreds of repetitions in practice, leaps 2 inches higher than his defensive opponents. And the ball, traveling as fast as a ball of inflated pigskin can be thrown, touches his massive strong, able-to-crush-anything hands.
And he catches it. Or rather, if you view it in super slow motion, you see that he caresses it -- first with his finger tips, then with his fingers, and then with his hands.
Now note: Had he merely used brute strength he could never have held onto the football. He would have fumbled it for sure.
You see, only the finger-tips can mediate, can temper the powerful strength of a receiver's body and create the gentleness required to catch a football. Can mediate and create the perfect combination of strength and sensitivity.
Every year countless numbers of the strongest people in the world have to give up on playing professional football. Why? Not because they weren't strong enough or fast enough. But because they weren't strong enough under pressure to be gentle with a football when the occasion called for it.
As we close, there are many possible applications for us to think about gentleness in our lives.
Certainly a discussion regarding power and restraint, a middle way, would be welcome on the world scene in any number of ways. Surely, there’s a gentle mean available in the discussion about health care in America.
But this morning let’s think about personal situations many of us are likely to encounter in the near future. That is, there are people in each of our lives with whom we will come into conflict in the days ahead. Maybe it will be with a spouse; maybe another relative; maybe a co-worker; maybe a neighbor, maybe someone we do business with, maybe a brother/sister member of this church.
And in this conflict, let’s say, we’re right. Righter than right. We’re so right, it’s not even funny. And we also know we have the strength to make our case in spades. We know we can seize the day with a word or action or even a look that will prove we were righter than right. True, another’s feelings might be hurt; pride might be injured; they may be badly embarrassed by the forcefulness and strength of our response. But by golly when you’re right, you’re right. And besides, who has time to worry about how others will take what we say or do? Why should someone so right have to worry about being gentle?
According to Aristotle, however, not to mention Paul, not to mention Jesus: Strength or might or right alone does not a mature, wise Christian make.
Rather, it's love expressed as gentleness which is measured, tempered, controlled strength; the perfect combination of strength and sensitivity and compassion.
Friends, let us believe this way, live this way in all our life’s interactions, and God will be honored, and God's reign will be that much closer.
And for those of us who need a pay off in the mean time, and don't we all: Jesus' promise of rest for our souls can be a living, daily reality.