“A Hermeneutic of Generosity”
Romans 12:9-21
Have you ever gotten into an argument that stirred up so many unexpressed feelings that it led to one thing and then another until it seemed that every last grievance of the past 10 years was being adjudicated? Have you ever been in an argument so heated and nasty and long that both parties ended up forgetting what started it all?
I’ve been thinking about those kinds of knock-down, drag-out, what-is this-really-about arguments over the past couple of weeks as I’ve followed the latest developments in what might qualify as a crisis in the Amherst schools.
I’ve read and watched with great concern the reports of horrible and totally unacceptable treatment of trans and other queer kids at the middle school, reports that included accounts of concerned parents going to school administrators with stories of the discriminatory treatment of their own children and getting little to no response. I was relieved to see school officials and others finally begin investigating these reports—if only after the high school newspaper, overseen by our own Sara Barber-Just, exposed them.
But some folks felt some action should be taken before the investigation was complete, and the widening outrage and deepening anger soon turned to calls for the firing of some school employees and officials. Some public comments came from places of pain and fear; some of the public debate was harsh and hurtful.
Then came multiple resignations of school administrators and elected school committee members, who said they could no longer take the personal attacks and character assassination that seemed to come with the job. And then last week saw the public instigation of the blame game, with some folks naming names and pointing fingers, other folks defending their behavior and blaming other actors, and virtually everyone seeming to have an opinion and virtually no one seeming to take responsibility.
Now, I know better than to take sides on matters of Amherst politics, at least in my role as pastor. And, frankly, I’m not sure any of the leading adults in this ongoing situation are without fault. But that’s not the point. My primary concern is that, amid all the understandable emotion, concern, criticism, and attacks, we may have forgotten what and who this is all about.
Which is to say: How does any of this promote the care, education, and protection of our children? What are we doing to make sure that nothing like what some trans and queer children at the middle school experienced ever happens again? What is all of this doing to ensure a safe, supportive, and nurturing environment for everyone?
Or to put it another way, to translate these vital concerns and fundamental issues into the language of faith and community: How can we hold fast to what is good amid so much harm and hurt, so much division and blame—not just here in Amherst, but across the country and around the world?
I’m speaking about the Amherst schools situation not to say who’s right or wrong or to take anyone in particular to task, but because it seems that this serious and extremely important local situation, happening right here, right now, might offer us a real-life case study in matters that are central to the life of faith, including those we talked about last week:
How do we avoid being caught up in and conformed to our culture? How do we open ourselves, instead, to being transformed by the creative love of God, the self-giving love of Jesus, and the empowering love of the Spirit?
Or, to put it in less spiritual, more practical and blunt terms: How do we as individuals and as a church avoid being just another part of the problem, or bystanders to the problem? How might we, instead, become agents of love and light, healing and hope?
Our scripture lesson this morning contains no fewer than 23 different imperatives for how we are to treat others—not just when things are going well, but especially when they’re not. Consider some of the powerful verbs and phrases Paul uses:
Love one another, hold fast, show honor, be zealous, be spirited, be humble. Rejoice, persevere, give, welcome, bless, live in harmony, live in peace, pursue hospitality, associate with the lowly, be good to your enemies, feed your hungry enemies, give your thirsty enemies something to drink, hate what is evil.
In the original Greek, all the verb forms are plural. Paul is writing not only about how individuals are to live in the midst of evil, but about our communal ways of living in hard times—how we as the church must be an alternative society in the face of hatred, violence, persecution, polarization, different values, and, yes, evil. And this begins with how we treat each other and live together.
When Paul says “do not be overcome by evil,” he is not talking about winners and losers but about what kind of people we will be, what kind of community we will be, how we will get to where we want to go. If we are just as critical and hateful, nasty and cynical as others—even in our struggle for all that is good—evil will win out.
Where Machiavelli said “the ends justify the means,” Jesussays that the means are theends.
I want to suggest this morning that most of Paul’s 23 specific imperatives can fall under the heading “hold fast to what is good,” and that this core instruction, this basic orientation toward life is very much like the term the late Paul Farmer used to speak of his work providing healthcare to the people of Haiti. Farmer lived out of a “hermeneutic of generosity.”
And so should we.
In this case, “generosity” refers not to giving money or time or talent, but rather giving the benefit of the doubt. And so a hermeneutic of generosity is a way of interpreting—not judging or critiquing, but understanding—people’s motives and actions as basically good. A hermeneutic of generosity says, “I may not agree with what you’re doing or how you’re doing it, but I want to understand where you’re coming from. And, unless and until you show me otherwise, I will choose to assume that your motives are good, even if I disagree with your actions.”
How different would our lives be, how different would Amherst be, how different would the world be if we all operated from a hermeneutic of generosity? How different would our conversations be?
If we could operate from both a place of safety and a hermeneutic of generosity, I think that, among other things, we might have fewer conversations about people and more conversations with people. We might spend less time arguing with each other and more time working together to make progress. We might devote less energy to attacking one another and much more energy to supporting the children and others who need to know that their well-being is our first priority.
For most of us, adopting a hermeneutic of generosity will require what we talked about last week: being transformed by the renewing of our hearts and minds. Fortunately, we follow a savior who specializes in healing and lifting up. Blessedly, we serve a God who is always doing a new thing. And, hallelujah, we are filled with the Spirit who empowers and transforms.
Holding fast to what is good means holding on to and trusting in the transformative power of God—because there is nothing more good than the God who is love. The process is not magic, of course. There is work we must be intentional about doing, even as we know it is not all up to us.
What if the next time we were about to say something negative or critical about someone, we caught ourselves and chose, instead, to think of something good about that person? How dedicated they are, perhaps. How they really do care.
Holding fast to what is good means realizing how so much we have and share is so very good, and then using it for the good of others so that they, too, can hold on.
Holding fast to what is good sometimes means overlooking what is not good.
Holding fast to what is good means holding onto, reaching out for, and supporting one another.
Holding fast to what is good means using what we have. Holding fast to what is good can be as simple, and as hard, as just showing up.
With all that is going on in the world, with all that is going on in our lives and in our town, how can we hold fast to what is good?
Let’s begin by adopting a hermeneutic of generosity, and then trusting God to transform us. Maybe then we will be able to live peaceably and constructively with all.
May it be so.
