Whoever is not against us is for us

A sermon at St Mary's North Melbourne

30 September 2018

Text: Mark 9:38-50

It is probably one of the most mis-quoted texts in the new Testament – “Whoever is not against us is for us.” How often have I heard instead, “Whoever is not for us is against us.”

The grammarians amongst you will understand that this is one of those occasions in English where word order matters. Let’s start with a secular example.

Let us say, for argument’s sake, that I am an indigenous politician, and I am arguing for a change in the law to improve the health outcomes for members of my community. I lobby, I give speeches, I get the matter in the public eye and on the national agenda. 

I discover that the people with a parliamentary vote on this question fall into a number of categories in response:

1) Those who stand to benefit directly from the success of such a policy are in favour. They are “for us.” There are two of them.

2) Those who have nothing to gain personally, but who actively believe in the justice of the policy are also “for us.” There are twenty of them.

3) Those who oppose the policy because they believe it would be a waste of taxpayer funds and achieve nothing are “against us.” There are twenty of them.

4) Those who oppose the policy because ingrained racism causes them to oppose anything that might be perceived as providing “special help” for indigenous people are also “against us.” There are two of them.

5) In the middle there is another group who are basically agnostic about the idea. It doesn’t affect them directly, and they are neither particularly in favour nor particularly against it on justice or any other grounds. Let’s say there are fifty of them.

The last group is the key one here.

Employing the maxim, “whoever is not against us is for us”, these fifty would vote in favour of the policy, because they are not actually against it. Thus I can expect a vote of 72 to 22 in favour of my new policy to improve indigenous health outcomes. Those against us are far outweighed by those who either support the policy, or at least do not actively oppose it, and are thus “for us.”

Employing the opposite maxim, that “whoever is not for us is against us” sees the opposite result – those in the middle ground default not to allowing change, but to opposing the policy simply because it involves change. The result is 72 vote against and only the rusted-on 22 supporters in favour. My plan is finished.

“Whoever is not for us is against us” is a conservative policy assumption, designed to ensure that the status quo is maintained, and that change only occurs in cases where there is an overwhelming desire to achieve it.

“Whoever is not against us is for us” is a permissive policy assumption, which provides the possibility that a group without an absolute majority on a question can still advance their policy, so long as a sufficient number of those who are not actively in favour do not actually object.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus teaches the latter rather than the former. The Jesus revealed to us in today’s Gospel is not a conservative. Today’s Jesus is permissive.

The permissiveness of Jesus’s teaching, however, has a sharp edge. It is reinforced by the other sayings grouped together with the one we have just analysed. The dramatic series of phrases about chopping off hands and feet and tearing out eyes is designed not to encourage us into self-mutilation every time we sin. It is designed instead to give us pause every time we place a stumbling block in front of another person in their journey to faith. Permissiveness must stand alongside responsibility. We are called not to construct an edifice of rules whereby everyone must live as we think they ought to live, but neither are we called to allow everyone – or ourselves – to do everything they or we want. Putting it bluntly – Jesus calls us to attend to our own faith journey and our own lives responsibly before we try to judge the faith journey and lives of others. We are called not to domination, but to be at peace with one another.

The implications of Jesus’ teaching, and its common reversal, extend well beyond the realm of secular politics.

For example. The idea that “those who are not for us are against us” is one reason why the Anglican Church of Australia has not, and at present probably cannot, move forward on changing the marriage service to allow same sex couples to marry. The church as it is presently structured and led is a conservative rather than a permissive institution. Whilst many are strongly in favour of such a change, many others are equally strongly against it. In the middle are those who “don’t really mind”. However instead of assuming that “those who are not against us are for us”, and thus allowing the change that would include a group that has been excluded from a major pastoral office of the church, the default has become to change nothing. The answer is “no” until such time as an overwhelming and vocal majority says “yes” in the synods of the Church.”

So much of this, however, depends on the assumptions behind the questions. When we ask the question “Should the Anglican Church change its definition of marriage to allow gay people be allowed to be married in the Anglican church?” I suspect that our synods would be divided, with some strongly in favour, others strongly opposed, and others with no strong view one way or the other. Such a question, however, assumes that “us” is the status quo, and so may well be at risk of failing, even if there was not an absolute majority opposed to the concept.

Were the question, however, to be “Should the Anglican Church continue to exclude gay couples from marrying in Anglican churches?” my suspicion is that the result would be much more strongly in favour of inclusion rather than exclusion, because the question has become about removing a stumbling block rather than defending the status quo. Many of those in the middle would decide that if they are not against gay and lesbian people getting married in churches, then perhaps they should vote for it. 

In a few weeks time I am moving two motions at the Melbourne Synod: one a fairly conservative motion concerning marriage equality, which encourages the archbishop to consider the pastoral value of authorizing a service of blessing for any couples, including gay ones, who have contracted a civil marriage; the other encouraging the Synod to oppose what is sometimes called “gay conversion therapy” – a discredited form of therapy designed to “correct” people’s sexuality, which has been defined by the proponents of that therapy as “disordered.” In both cases, my hope is that whoever is not against us will be for us. My fear, however, is that some on the floor of the synod will attempt to turn the questions around, and make combative attempts to preserve the status quo, arguing that “whoever is not for the status quo is against Jesus.” We will see how these questions land, but no matter what Jesus might or might not have thought above same-sex marriage or gay conversion therapy, I’m pretty sure that I understand how he would have played the politics around such questions. And my gut feeling is that he would be for us.