The Gospel lessons for the past couple of weeks have been following along the teachings of Jesus known as "The Sermon on the Mount." So called because a crowd followed him up a mountain. And then he preached to them. He starts off by turning the world upside-down (or right-side-up, depending on your perspective) in a theme that reoccurs throughout his ministry: the last shall be first and the first shall be last. He goes on to tell everyone that they're important—but only if they're responsible. You are the salt of the earth and the light of the world--but what good is salt and light if you aren't doing the things salt and light are supposed to do? He goes on to say that (despite what it may look like) he isn't trying to do away with the Law, but rather fulfill it. This week's lesson features a series of references to the Law, "You have heard it said that..." followed by Jesus's assertions, "...but I say..."
Despite the "but" in these teachings, what Jesus is doing is not contradicting the law. If anything, he's turbo-charging it! "You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, 'You shall not murder'; and 'whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.' But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment... You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not commit adultery.' But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart..."
These teachings of Jesus have been the source of much angst and scholarship, and with good reason. Who could possibly live up to these standards? Why the harsh understanding of divorce? Where is the Rule of Love in all of this? How does this mesh with Jesus's other teachings on the subject of the Law? (Matthew 15:1-20, for example.) Ah... those are good questions, aren't they?
What Jesus is doing here, is not simply making the Law too difficult to achieve—although he is certainly declaring something more difficult than a literal reading of the Law would require. Jesus is talking about the importance of relationships. The Law is pretty clear on "don't kill each other." Jesus is saying that simply failing to kill each other isn't enough—Jesus is talking about reconciliation.
God wants us to be in good relationship with each other.
And that's the piece that makes me think of The Hunger Games (believe it or not).
Again, I haven't finished the series—I've only seen the first film and and I'm most of the way through the first book—but it seems to me that one of the main lessons the protagonist, Katniss, needs to learn on her hero journey is to be in good relationship with the people around her—no matter what. And I see this most clearly book-ended with a nameless gesture. It's such an important piece of the story that I wish it had a name. But then again, perhaps part of its power is in the fact that it represents something that goes beyond words.
In any case, the first time we learn of this gesture is in the immediate aftermath of Katniss rushing forward to take her little sister's place as Tribute to the titular "games." In reality, The Hunger Games are a barbaric reminder to the twelve districts (twelve tribes? Hmm...) that they had lost a rebellious war. Two Tributes from each district—one male and one female, each between the ages of 12 and 18—are annually made to fight to the death until only one remains living. Here's the moment as it appears in the book:
"Well, bravo!" gushes Effie Trinket. "That's the spirit of the Games!" She's pleased to finally have a district with a little action going on in it. "What's your name?"
I swallow hard. "Katniss Everdeen," I say.
"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" trills Effie Trinket.
To the everlasting credit of the people of District 12, not one person claps. Not even the ones holding betting slips, the ones who are usually beyond caring. Possibly because they know me from the Hob, or knew my father, or have encountered Prim, who no one can help loving. So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence. Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong.
Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me. But a shift has occurred since I stepped up to take Prim's place, and now it seems I have become someone precious. At first one, then another, then almost every member or the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.From this moment out, aside from loving thoughts for the family and friend she leaves behind, Katniss does her level best to not be in relationship with anyone, let alone in good relationship. After all, everyone she meets is either preparing her for her probable death or within days of trying to kill her. Things don't really start turning around for her until she is in the Hunger Games, struggling to stay alive, and finds herself teaming up with little Rue. Rue is one of the youngest tributes and reminds Katniss of her sister. Even then, Katniss obsessive worries about the idea Rue getting killed and then about the idea of the two of them making it to the end and having to turn on each other.
And then Rue is killed, right in front of Katniss, who manages to shoot and kill Rue's assailant. Normally, Tributes would gather what they can use from the corpses and then move away so those running the Games can retrieve the bodies. But Katniss decides to demonstrate her relationship with Rue to the Capital and to all the people all over the Districts watching on television:
A few steps into the woods grows a bank of wildflowers. Perhaps they are really weeds of some sort, but they have blossoms in beautiful shades of violet and yellow and white. I gather up an armful and come back to Rue's side. Slowly, one stem at at time, I decorate her body in the flowers. Covering the ugly wound. Wreathing her face. Weaving her hair with bright colors.
They'll have to show it. Or, even if they choose to turn the cameras elsewhere at this moment, they'll have to bring them back when they collect the bodies and everyone will see her then and know I did it. I step back and take a last look at Rue. She could really be asleep in that meadow after all.
"Bye, Rue," I whisper. I press the three middle fingers of my left hand against my lips and hold them out in her direction. Then I walk away without looking back.I won't tell you exactly how—just in case you're planning on discovering it for yourself after all—but Katniss finds all kinds of aid from all kinds of unexpected places as a direct result of that acknowledgement of her relationship with Rue. And it marks the beginning of her being able to form other bonds, other relationships, that help her even more!
And... if the film is any good indication, that gesture has wider consequence than Katniss imagines... but I guess I'll have to read more and find out for myself!
Work on your relationships,
Be good to each other,
Rev. Josh
021114
The scripture lessons for February 16th—The Sixth Sunday after Epiphany Year A—are:
Deuteronomy 30:15-20—Psalm 119:1-8—1 Corinthians 3:1-9—Matthew 5:21-37
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