"The Lord Nelson Mass." A brilliant, thrilling work. "The Lord Nelson Mass!" It has nothing to do with Lord Nelson. Could it be, by chance, audiences heard it first shortly after Nelson's defeat of Napoleon's Navy in the Battle of the Nile on August 1, 1798? Perhaps. But it was not composed for that astounding moment. Could it be that Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton happened to be in the audience during a performance in 1800 in Haydn's hometown? Maybe. The name itself, apart from the music, carries a noble aura inferring not only that crushing battle of the Nile, but also the wrecking of the Danish fleet at Copenhagen in 1801 and of course, in 1805, Trafalgar and the securing of hegemony over the seas by the British fleet during the 19th century. So this morning we sing a Mass with a warrior's name attached to it-as tenuous as that connection may be-but a warrior, nonetheless, who wreaked havoc on the navies of the French and the Spanish and whose name became synonymous with the British Navy.

Question: are the Nelson types really the heroes of that or any other time? Is the clash of arms, the meting of vengeance, the necessity to retaliate, to even the score, to punish your antagonist, to meet violence with violence, terror with terror, is that noble, celebrative, honorable? Perhaps. We surely watch such an approach to human affairs work itself out these last three weeks. This morning's New York Times, for instance, carries an extended story beginning on the front page, a story surfacing from the rubble of the Palestinian refugee camp in Jenin, one paragraph reading as follows: "The battle here is already gathering force as an enduring lesson and inspiration, another sorrowful chapter in the contested narrative about the struggle over this land. Each sides' version is already settling into concrete sturdier than the stuff scattered throughout this camp, across a bulldozed area bigger than a football field"-as reported elsewhere, 500 to 600 yards square. Maureen Dowd captured the spiritual depravity of this conflict when she reported a piece of graffiti appearing on a Washington wall some months ago, "Dear God, save us from the people who believe in you." She continued: "The atrocities and brutalities committed in the name of God fill us with a greater need for God, or some spiritual solace."

Indeed. And perhaps something of this new dimension, a fresh perspective was offered to us on April 4 in a slight but striking plea by President Bush. He directed this plea to Israelis and Palestinians as he dispatched Secretary Powell for his recent mission to the Middle East. President Bush said this: "Conflict is not inevitable. Distrust need not be permanent. Peace is possible when we break free of old patterns and habits of hatred. . ." George W. Bush! He is right! He is Biblical. Whoever wrote that sentence stole it from the Sermon on the Mount. They paraphrased in a declarative sentence what Jesus so brilliantly illustrated in his references to vengeance and retaliation. Remember? If someone slaps you on the cheek, turn the other. If someone sues you for your coat, give that person your whole wardrobe. If someone demands you walk one mile, walk two instead.

What is this? Cowardice? A milquetoast pacifism inviting some brutal aggressor to run over you with hobnailed boots? Is it a surrender of self- respect, appeasement guaranteeing you get wiped out along with your neighbor, the city, the nation? Weakness? Wimpishness? Impotence?

Well, with mortars and missiles flying, cities in ruins, the gravestone business booming and the pounding of chests, the pointing of fingers, the bloody blame game flourishing in Jerusalem, Cairo, Washington, Kabul, Baghdad and Brussels, these visions of our Lord appear to be absolutely absurd and laughingly ludicrous in a world where day by day ground zero seems demonically extended.

So how could Jesus be so out of it? How come so ignorant of the human condition? Are these references to turning the other cheek, turning over your wardrobe, going the second mile irrelevant? Is Jesus irrelevant? Beside the point? Is he mad? Suicidal?

Not on your life! Now hear this! Jesus anticipates the plea of George W. Bush, a plea in this so-called "War on terror" he might himself take to heart. Jesus breaks free from old patterns and habits. Our Lord provides a strategy, as one observer puts it, "of robbing violent and oppressive people of their cruel power." Does someone do violence to you? Do you answer in kind? Are you, an innocent, struck with a fist? In what discourse will you offer a rejoinder? Are you, an innocent, injured by a mortar, blown to smithereens by a hijacked airliner? How shall you respond? In what language do you reply? A blow in return? A ballistic missile? F-16s armed with smart bombs? If so, the initiators smell victory. Their violent agenda becomes the order of the day.

But what if there is an alternative? What if, figuratively speaking, turning the other cheek, giving away the whole wardrobe, walking the second mile sends a different message, a message like this: "You may choose violence to secure your objective, but your way finally ends in violence. Your way must stop. I shall stop it because I have chosen another way." "It is action," writes Rowan Williams, the Anglican Archbishop of Wales, who found himself at Trinity Church, Wall Street on September 11, caught in its chaos and ghastliness, "It is action that changes the terms of the relation, or at the very least says to the perpetrator that the world might be otherwise. It requires courage and imagination; it is essentially the decision not to be passive, not to be a victim, but equally not to avoid passivity by simply reproducing what has been done to you." It exercises the power to reset the agenda, to recast the vocabulary, to redefine the means to the end, to reclaim the initiative, to reassert the dignity of adversaries, to search for alternative, yea, probably higher ground. That is what lies behind this stunning illustration of ethical behavior offered by our Lord.

And it not only changes the terms of engagement, as Rowan Williams so properly says, insisting such action implies the world might be otherwise. Our Lord opens a world where violence dissolves and is no more. It boggles the mind. Do you harbor an inclination to purchase a firearm for protection? Do you carry mace in your purse? How many deadbolts, chains, safety locks, door buzzers, how many alarm systems, police emergency numbers, cell phones for safety, security guards do you pay for or find yourself encountering on a daily basis? In the vision of the Sermon Mount, that junk disappears. Lawyers out to destroy defendants; judges sending convicts to Cedar Junction; lawsuits for reparations, divorce court mediators, standing armies, suicide bombers, plowed-up olive groves, bulldozed houses, Passover massacres-no more! And better yet, guess what: preachers, church meetings-swept away; resistance and vengeance, violence and retaliation irrelevant; no one finding them necessary; indeed, the turning of the cheek, the walking of the second mile, the handing over of your wardrobe will no longer be ethically necessary because, from the get-go, in Love's dominion, human relationships are grounded in mutuality and solidarity, friendship and hope. There is no initial slap on the cheek, no demand for the first mile, no claim on your coat. The world has made the U-turn envisioned in offering the other cheek, the second mile.

Oh friends, so-called "fair play" is out the window: Tit for tat; you do this, I do that; eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth-as Tevye says in "Fiddler on the Roof," that makes for a "blind and toothless world." Such ethical quid pro quos: Gone! Nor do we make a case today for victimhood: "Here, you hit me once; please, now hit me again." That is surrender to abuse and Jesus will have none of it. No! Our response arises from the profound conviction, rooted in the Divine love at the heart of the universe, that when evil is done to us, somehow good may be wrought in response; it means, as one commentator suggests, "that we can forge a blessing even for those who do us violence." Breaking free of old patterns and habits; Bishop Williams insists, "It is always something of a miracle."

In a moment we will return to what we call today Franz Josef Haydn's "Lord Nelson Mass." Lord Nelson: that noble admiral; that consummate warrior. Do you know what Haydn originally named this Mass? Not "The Lord Nelson." He called it "Missa in angustiis," "Mass in Time of Tribulation." Thank you, Franz Josef. This morning we feel you wrote it just for us.

Scripture Reading
Matthew 5:38-42

"You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.