Tuesday, February 5, 2008

'The Sermon': Matthew 5:1-16

:The Sermon on the Mount. Even more brilliant than you think.

This collection of Jesus' teachings is largely poetic, dramatic and pictorial; as opposed to functioning like a code of law to be approached with a spirit of absolutism, it is in many ways rather painting a picture and calling us into an experience of the character of God. It’s purpose is not to legislatively end the conversation, but to begin it; to invite us into deepest thought and cause us to wrestle with this God whom we are meeting.

The sermon takes the present and the practical and looks at those things through the lens of eternity; it looks backwards, from the culmination of the perfect, unbroken will of God to our present. Because it comes out of this consummated Kingdom perspective, it strikes us as largely heedless of earthly contingencies, radical, and even terrifying in places in its attack on complacency and shallow religiosity.

As we wrestle with these teachings and what they call out in us, we are forced to come to grips with the fact that the sermon, and the Kingdom for that matter, is not really concerned with what is practical or possible in the here and now… they are not so much about expounding upon what WORKS; the sermon is about the way God IS.

This journey Jesus invites us into, then, will be one into the heart and character of God as illuminated by these teachings of Jesus in Matthew 5-7. As we do so, we will find both invitation and challenge as we come face to face with the unlimited goodness and love of God, and begin to understand that it is his desire to grow in us that same love, that we might see heaven and earth brought together.

The Beatitudes

We begin here, with Mt. 5:1-16… probably some of the most familiar verses in scripture; but again, statements whose intent and implications actually go much deeper than most of us have ever cared to wrestle with before…

v.3 ‘Blessed are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven

A fine sounding statement... but what does this even mean? What does it look like to be ‘poor in spirit’? Is that really a good thing? Why are they blessed? Why do THEY get the Kingdom of Heaven?

The Greek translated as ‘poor’ here is an image of the financially destitute (poor, poor as a beggar)… which was helpful for me as I thought about this passage; this idea of spiritual poverty. Why would those in spiritual poverty be considered ‘fortunate’? What advantage might they have over people in different circumstances? Because, if we’re honest, none of us would aspire to be destitute; spiritually or otherwise.

It is as if this passage could read; ‘Blessed are the spiritually bankrupt… because they can’t fool themselves. They understand that they are in a place of need. Other people might be able to tell themselves that they’ve got things pretty well in hand; that they’re decent enough people – morally and spiritually inclined enough – secure enough in their achievements to warrant whatever reward might lie at the end of the rainbow. Not these people. Broke and busted, empty-handed, they know they have a need that they are helpless to provide for themselves… and so, they are ready to receive what I would give them.’

The fact is that every person is in need of this gift of grace; these people, though – the empty and the broken – are just going to be naturally quicker to understand that. While the rest of us might be able to distract ourselves from our need for a little while, these people have nowhere else to go. In this, they are fortunate indeed.

Are you empty? Are you broken? Are you searching? You are not far. You are not alone. Jesus is nearer than you might ever expect.


v.4 ‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.’

Again, we might ask, how is it that those in mourning could be considered fortunate? Given a choice, we certainly would not aspire to mourn! We would not choose to be consumed by grief.

But much like the sentiment of the previous verse, Jesus finds something in the posture of the grieving that is of deep value. It is as if he is saying, ‘Fortunate are the wounded; those who are at their end in painful circumstances, because they know that real comfort is what they need. They do not have the luxury of the numbing salve of feeling comfortable in their circumstances; They are profoundly aware that they need help and healing. This healing and wholeness that we all need, these people will receive it… because they know their life depends on it.

Are you wounded? Are you hurting? Broken-hearted? Jesus wants to meet you there. Would you let him heal you?

v.5 ‘Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.’

‘Meekness’ doesn’t really jump out as a highly valued virtue in our society. To us, the word implies ‘mouse-like’, ‘easily pushed around’… ‘quiet’. The word translated as ‘meek’ or ‘gentle’ here is actually defined as, ‘the humble and gentle attitude which expresses itself in patient submissiveness to offense, free from malice and desire for revenge.’

Thinking about this, it starts to read a bit differently… ‘Blessed are the cheek-turners; those who refuse to play by the ‘power-over’ paradigm of this world… who give themselves for the subversive movement that is the kingdom of God even when it looks like just getting beaten up.’

There is nothing mouse-like about this meekness. This is the meekness that is able to stand with hope under suffering… This is the gentleness of civil rights marchers who peacefully faced fire hoses and police dogs to stand for what was right. This is the legacy of Martin Luther King and those who stood with him; the gospel and hope of Jesus, profoundly on display. These people changed the world.

The idea of ‘inheriting the earth/land’ that we see here is also a profound idea, harkening deep within Jewish history: The covenant with Abraham, that his decendents would be given a land of their own as an inheritance, the journey of the exodus from slavery to the ‘promised land’… again themes adopted by the civil rights movement…

Using this language implies that it is through those who willingly shoulder suffering for the good of their world that Gods promises and purposes will be fulfilled… it is through these suffering servants, ultimately embodied by Jesus himself, that redemptive history will move forward.

Will we be these people? Will we lay our lives down for the sake of our world? What might this look like?

v.6 ‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.’

The God of scripture is a God who longs to see his people filled, satisfied, made whole. It is what we have been created for; that, connected to our source, we would want for nothing.

To see his purposes accomplished in the world, it is important that we grasp, however, the nature of this filling. When God fills a person, he does not fill them to the brim… He fills us to overflowing. Because his blessing is not for us alone. (Abraham) This brings to mind for me the interaction between Jesus and a woman he met at a well one afternoon… a woman who was spiritually thirsty, and who Jesus offered to fill. He warned her, however, that the water he gives does not merely fill a person, but becomes within them a spring; welling up to eternal life.

God pours into us in such a manner such that we are not merely satisfied, but overflowing.

Are there ways in which we have resisted overflowing? If we’re honest, might we confess that we operate as if this blessing is intended for us alone?

v.7 ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.’

Reminds me of the Lords prayer; ‘Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.’

Do we take the time to wrestle with the connection between our ability to receive forgiveness and mercy and our ability to give those things? The implication of scripture, here and in other places, is that unforgiving and unmerciful people cannot receive forgiveness or mercy. Why? Will God refuse it, or will they simply find themselves unable to accept it?

Are there people in our lives that we have not forgiven? Would we ask God to help us let go of our bitterness toward those people so that we might take hold of his mercy toward us?

v. 8 ‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God’

In scriptural tradition, to see God is to KNOW God. That said, this is all well and good… but how does one go about becoming ‘pure in heart’?

It is only through the work of God that we are even able to be pure in heart. Perhaps, then, it is in the midst of this cleansing process that we become intimately familiar with God himself; as we allow him to root around and cast out the rubbish to the curb, we begin to know his character as it is on display in and through his purifying work.

Much like the heart and soul of an artist is most poignantly communicated through their art, perhaps the heart and character of God is best experienced through his work in us. Our knowledge of him grows as we allow ourselves to be shaped more and more into the likeness of him who we are seeking to know.

At some level, there is only so much we can know about God without surrendering to him. Because to try and know him while denying him access to our lives is like trying to appreciate the work of Picasso without ever looking at a painting. The encyclopedia doesn’t do him justice. God needs to be experienced to be known.

God isn’t interested in just grabbing coffee with us… Flirting from a safe distance. He wants to be intimate; to work within us, to get into every pore, every thought, every hope, clean us out so that he might connect with us and shape us at the level of our souls.

Are there ways in which we are avoiding intimacy with God? Keeping him at a distance? Will we accept his invitation to surrender, cleaning and relationship?

v.9 ‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.’

The term ‘peacemaker’ here was commonly used to refer to kings who established peace. In this light, it is important to note that this is not a matter of conflict avoidance… To be a peacemaker in this sense is to enter a conflict and engage it. To wage peace. Militant Love.

We find here a picture of Christ himself on the cross; interceding with God on behalf of a humanity which found itself bankrupt in its conflict with their creator. He spreads his arms, enters the fray, and draws heaven and earth together again.

He then calls us to become ambassadors of Shalom… To take up our cross and follow him; to be those in the world who seek out conflict and brokenness so that we might bring his healing to bear – out of the overflow of that which he has done for and within us.

This task is not an easy one, nor without its inherent risks, for we find this mandate followed by v. 10-12:

To step into a conflict is to risk getting beaten up. You’ll probably get shot at. Again, the champions of civil rights here in the U.S. know this well… To be a peacemaker often does not feel very peaceful.

We find here a significant departure between Christianity and many world religions, like Buddhism, which teach transcendence – elevating oneself above the brokenness and conflict of our world. Jesus, in contrast, calls those who follow him into radical, sacrificial, even painful engagement with all the ways our world is messed up… to embrace, enter, and bring healing to those difficult places as an expression of the character of this God with whom we are dealing.

It is in this spirit that Jesus closes this section of teaching with v. 13-16

:: This is what it is to be salt and light. People, who are aware of their spiritual emptiness, aware of their need for healing and wholeness, asking God to fill them, purify them, grow in them the depths of his character and holiness, that we might pour ourselves out as healers and peacemakers defined by the forgiveness and long suffering gentleness of Christ himself. It is in this way that a world desperately seeking meaning and completion will finally be able to see the face of hope, and come to him.

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