A sermon by Associate Minister Elsa A. Peters, August 31, 2008
Romans 12:9-21
It’s that classic, timeless question. It’s the question that for most of us began this strange journey into faith. It’s the same question that greeted me as I settled into read our local news on Monday morning: Why? Isn’t that always the question when bad news hits our community? Why? Justin Ellis reported on the recent stabbing in Portland’s Kennedy Park with the simple question that plagues us all when we hear such news. The article didn’t mince words. Ellis said it plainly:
I just kept wondering “why?” Why does this keep happening?
Of course, I had just poured my first cup of coffee and re-read this lesson from Romans when I read this first sentence of Ellis’ article. This first sentence pulled me back to the last phrase in Paul’s letter to the Romans:
Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
But how in the world can we not be overcome by evil? Aren’t we at constantly at risk of being overcome by the evils of the world, whether we read about a stabbing in the paper or watch the state of Louisiana prepare for possible disaster on the news? We watch and read but can’t help ourselves from succumbing to that arresting question: why? Why must this happen? Why? It seems impossible not to be overcome by it – even though we are not sure how to name what this evil is. What is it? Is it even evil? And if so, what is evil?
Quite simply, I don’t know. I have no definition for evil – and I don’t really want one. Evil simply can’t be the opposite of good. If it were just opposites, then I would have to prescribe a definition for what is good – and I don’t dare do that. I don’t want to limit what might be good. If what is good is narrowed to a prescribed set of terms, the risk of missing out on something greater than our imaginations increases – and surely there is greater goodness than you or I can imagine. After all, we associate what is good with those things that are of God and who would limit the possibilities of God? Not me – but to name evil offers the same risk. It wouldn’t limit God – but I fear that describing evil would diminish our ability to relate to God.
In Christian terms, we often describe evil as sin – which if you’ve ever sat with me during Lent – you know that my definition of sin is anything that separates you from God. I’m not the only one that thinks this. There are more famous theologians that I have learned this from – but I take it a step further. I believe that you are the only one that can determine that separation from God. I can’t wag my finger at you and tell you that you’re a sinner. That’s between you and God. It’s got nothing to do with me.
So, how could I define evil in Christian terms? It’s got nothing to do with me. It’s what separates you from the divine. I can’t tell you what that is. I wouldn’t dare. Only you can know what that thing – that possible evil – might be.
You see the problem now? This is exactly why I can’t provide any definition for evil. Because when I look I look in the world, I don’t see evil. Not in Kennedy Park. Not even in suicide bombers. These things are not evil. I don’t see them as evil. Instead, evil is a word that I toss around casually when a friend elicits a particularly sarcastic laugh from me. “You’re so evil,” I might even say to you if you coaxed me to Beale’s on a sunny afternoon.
Of course, I don’t mean this as an accusation. You are not evil. I don’t even think your actions are evil. I will go with you to Beale’s – should you ever ask me. But, I still don’t have any definition for what evil is. Personally, that’s OK. I don’t need to know exactly what evil is. I believe evil exists. It’s real. It’s out there. Somewhere. I know it is. I just have no words for it – even when Paul challenges me to think about what it means to be overcome by this thing I can’t define.
You may need a definition – but I don’t. Not right now anyway. It’s not simply because I “do not lag in zeal.” As Paul encourages us, I do indeed “bubble with activity for others” and “rejoice in hope” – but all of this bubbling and rejoicing doesn’t mean that I’m oblivious to the fact that evil is out there. I believe that it’s out there. And still, I’m resistant to naming something that would narrow the expansive possibility of our relating to God – perhaps it’s because I half-heartedly affirm the words that Paul offers to this Christian community that he never visits:
Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
My conviction is half-hearted because these words come from Paul. Paul and I don’t often get along. We fight more often than not. It’s only three chapters later in this letter to Rome that he condemns the ordination of women. There are good reasons for Paul and I to fight – but here, I want to affirm his words that it is indeed possible to not be overcome by evil. I want to believe that that might be true. Whatever evil might be, wherever it might be, it shall not overcome us. Whether or not I can offer a definition for it, evil will not triumph. It cannot win. It won’t defeat us.
Is that because good will overcome? I don’t know. Paul doesn’t articulate this idea any more than it is explained anywhere else in the Bible. There are no answers to this question – just as there are no answers when any one of us is brave enough to ask “why” when faced with a reality that seems too unfair or just too hard.
For me, it’s enough to trust the wisdom that Paul offers – even if I am half-hearted in my feelings toward Paul. It’s enough to know that evil will not overcome. I don’t have to ask why or how. It’s enough to know that those things that are too hard or too unfair will not defeat us.
Even when I don’t have the answers or even a simple definition, it is enough to know that we only need to “hold fast” to the very things that push us out of bed to seek “what is good” in the world around us. If we hold fast to those things, then I believe that Paul may be right. Evil will not overcome – and then, surely, love will be genuine.