Poolesville Presbyterian Church
03.11.12; Rev. David Williams
As we roll further into what looks like it will be a really entertaining election year, one of the most striking things about the public mood is that we all hate Congress. This is a bit bizarre, frankly. We elect our Senators and Representatives. Most of us feel that the person who we elected is doing a good job. And yet, taken together, we hate them with a big hatey hate. Just how big is that hatey hate? Well, let’s look at the numbers.
The latest poll results on the polling data aggregation site Real Clear Politics show that 11.3% of Americans think that Congress is doing a good job, and 82.5 percent think they’re stinking up the place. Just to put that into context: A recent poll by the Zogby survey firm asked Americans what they thought of former head of the KGB and autocratic Russian despot Vladimir Putin, a man who routinely has his opponents killed and imprisoned and who hands out political power to his many lovers. Putin scores ten points higher among Americans than our own Congress. This is not a good sign for Congress. It’s not a good sign for Americans, either, honestly.
Some have argued that this is because Congress is “do-nothing,” and that they’re always deadlocked, and they just don’t do anything. But being a contrarian, I’m compelled to suggest: what if the problem is that they do too much? They are, after all, primarily lawmakers. What they do is make laws. Do we have enough laws?
Let’s take a look at the United States Code. I can’t claim to fully understand it, but here’s what little I managed to pluck off the internet so I can make it seem like I know what I’m talking about. Every law passed by Congress gets plugged into one of 50 “Titles,” which logically sort American laws into different categories. Those titles are divided into subtitles, which are divided into chapters, which are divided into subchapters, which are divided into parts, which are divided into sections.
As a Presbyterian, I find that all strangely exciting.
For example, Title 26 has to do with revenue and taxation, which many of us are thinking about this time of year. So if you had this deep and burning desire to know when you have to file a special return, you could look to Title 26, Subtitle F, Chapter 61, Subchapter A, Part I, Section 6001, which tells you everything you need to know. Or is that Section 6002? I always muddle those two.
How many laws are there? Well, Title 26...which is one of the 50 Titles...is about 7,500 pages long. Fortunately, it’s a real page turner. When you get to Title 26, Subtitle V, Chapter 37, Subchapter B, Part I, Sec. 7042, you’re just not going to believe the plot twist it serves up. Man. I was shaking my head after that one. Never saw it coming. It seriously sets you up for the sequel in Title 27. Don’t worry. I won’t ruin the ending.
The sheer volume of American law is truly dizzying. Hundreds of thousands of pages of code are simply more than any one human being...or even a roomful of human beings...can come to terms with.
I know they say that ignorance of the law is no excuse, but you couldn’t be aware of the fullness of the laws that govern our country if you spent your entire lifetime studying them and every single neuron in your brain was dedicated to learning them, including the neurons that you currently use to figure out how to eat, breathe, and figure out most universal remotes. When regulations and requirements reach that level of complexity, it becomes harder and harder for us to keep track of them. They stack up one on top of the other, until the tower of laws grows so high we can’t look at them without feeling dizzy.
One of the most striking things about the Ten Commandments we encounter in today’s passage from the book of Exodus is how simple and non-complex they are. This listing of the most essential elements of God’s covenant with the people of Israel can be found in two places in the Torah, both here and in a slightly modified form in Deuteronomy 5:6-21. In both locations, the basic structure and essence of the commandments remains the same.
The Mosaic Decalogue, which is what bible scholars call the 10 Commandments when they want to seem smarter than you, is divided up into two separate primary sections. The first of those sections incorporates the first four commandments, all of which describe the relationship we’re supposed to have with God. Those are, first, I am your God, second, don’t watch American Idol, third, don’t use my name unless you really mean it, and fourth, remember to chill on the Sabbath.
The fourth commandment tells us to remember to take time to both worship and be at ease, but it also represents the transition between the first section of the covenant and the second. We’re not just to take Sabbath for ourselves, after all. It’s not just about us and God, although it is that. What this commandment says is that we are to view Sabbath as a moral imperative, part of our commitment to other creatures as well. We will not endlessly demand. We will permit rest and reflection. As such, this sets the stage for the remaining six commandments, in which our obligations towards other human beings are established.
There, we’re told to honor our parents, not to kill, not to cheat on our spouses, not to steal, not to lie about those around us, and not to be governed by greed. Then, of course, the Book of Exodus continues, going into more complexity and detail. But the essence remains intact and clearly discernable, easy to recall at the most elemental level. How many are there? Just take a look at your fingers, and count them off.
Or your toes, if you’re so inclined. This little piggy didn’t steal, this little piggy didn’t cheat on his wife, and this little piggy went wee wee wee all the way past his neighbor’s brand new car without even the slightest twinge of jealousy.
The world, of course, is a complex place, and we often struggle with the application of simple principles to the whirling sea of variant challenges that face us in our day-to-day existences. It’s a whole bunch easier, on a certain level, if we have directions about what to do that are clearly and precisely applicable to the specific instance that we’re experiencing.
But where that begins to fall apart is in the nearly infinite complexity of the world in which we live. Moment for moment, instance for instance, we just can’t match it. Where it becomes even more challenging is in the growing complexities of our society. If you’re a bronze age agrarian culture, you might be able to get away with several hundred laws. Life was relatively simple. But as a pluralist, semi-post-industrial culture, things for us are hugely more complicated, and our legal system reflects that. The ethical and social dynamics of our societies are mindbogglingly complex.
From that intricacy, we arrive at a legal system that is equally intricate, and equally difficult to comprehend. While I understand the value of our system of jurisprudence, and the reason for the structures of our laws, I can also understand how when a system gets more demanding, it can also become more frustrating. If the scales of justice measure down to the picogram...that’s a trillionth of a gram, kids...then getting them to balance can make us crazy.
There is value in higher order laws, in ways of understanding our ethical responsibilities towards one another and to our Creator. Those basic principles need to be interpreted and adapted to every particular situation, and that requires both wisdom and grace. That is true for any framework of laws, no matter how complex. What matters is our judgment, our capacity for mercy, our ability to look at the law as not just cogs and gears in a machine, but as an opportunity to manifest justice, mercy, and the best promise of our Creator in every moment we encounter.
Perhaps that’s a reason for our frustration, as we see how little grace abounds in our culture, and how we seek to use the law to punish rather than to build up. But that’s not the fault of Congress. It’s the fault of the folks who elect them.
It is those people, us, who need to be more deeply rooted in the gracious love of God. Whether ten laws or ten thousand, it is that one law that must govern them all, and that one law that must govern us.
Let it be so, for you and for me, AMEN.
No comments:
Post a Comment