The Called Ones
Sermon
FROM ANTICIPATION TO TRANSFIGURATION
Sermons For Advent, Christmas, & Epiphany
The Gospel lesson for today makes me want to fuss at Jesus. It makes me want to fuss at Jesus because the message of the text is so radical! It is radical to believe that people would actually leave their place of business to follow after a teacher who said, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men."
After Jesus had finished preaching a sermon in Capernaum, he took a stroll along the banks of the Sea of Galilee. As Jesus walked by the sea side, he noticed two brothers -- Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew, his brother -- casting a net into the sea. He called out to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." Peter and Andrew did not sit in the boat and reflect on what Jesus said to them. Apparently, they did not count the cost. Nor did they call a committee meeting. Nor did they form an association to provide them with support. Instead, they immediately left their nets and followed him.
As Jesus continued his walk along the sea side, he saw two other brothers -- James, the son of Zebedee, and John, his brother, in the boat and Zebedee, their father. They were rocking back and forth in the boat, minding their own business, and mending their nets when Jesus called out to them to follow. As with Peter and Andrew, they left their trade and their father and followed after Jesus of Nazareth. According to Matthew, they did not hesitate. They followed immediately.
Who among us would respond in this way? I mean, how many people in this congregation today would put a padlock on their business and chase a person like Jesus?
I, for one, would argue with Jesus about that. I have a wife and two daughters who need my support. I have house notes, car notes, and bills to pay. I have groceries to buy and clothing to purchase. I have responsibilities to this congregation and to this community. I am involved in many things which are important to me. In a few short months, my younger daughter will be graduating from high school. I want to be there for the baccalaureate, the graduation exercises, the gifts, the parties, and all the rest. Next year, my older daughter will be graduating from Lambuth College. "All the king's horses and all the king's men" could not keep me from being on the Lambuth campus for that special day in the history of our family.
What if everybody followed the example of those fishermen? What if everybody heard the call and heeded it? Who would mind the store? Who would pay the taxes? Who would run the church? Who would paint, make music, or govern? Our tendency is to brush off this story as being unrealistic. After all, not one person in this congregation is going to respond as Peter, Andrew, James, and John did. It is okay for them to be radical in their response. But, it is not okay for us.
On the other hand, one cannot read the New Testament without seeing that some followed in a radical way. Jesus said, "Follow me," to a tax collector named Matthew; and Matthew got up and followed him. Philip, who was from Andrew and Peter's hometown, followed his calling by helping Jesus to feed the five thousand. John reports that Jesus said, "Follow me," and Nathaniel, also known as Bartholomew, followed. According to church tradition, Bartholomew followed the call by carrying the Gospel to various countries, including India. Thomas, having been called, said to his fellow disciples, "Let us also go, that we may die with him." And Paul, who heard Jesus say, "Rise and enter the city and you will be told what to do," went forth and proclaimed: "Jesus is the Son of God."
Every now and then, someone does respond in a radical and unexpected way. Dr. Fred Craddock tells the story of a medical student who heard the call and made a radical response. A young woman came to him after hearing his sermon on today's text. She had decided to leave medical school and go to work among migrant workers in the Rio Grande Valley. Dr. Craddock did not manipulate her unexpected response. Instead, they talked for a long time about the meaning of her decision. Her parents were, understandably, furious with the new direction her life had taken. Like those fishermen, however, she heard the call and she stayed with it.
And there have been others. People in the western tradition have long known about Francis of Assisi. He turned from a life of luxury to one of voluntary poverty with the intention of sharing his possessions with the poor. He became an example to his fellow townspeople of the biblical assurance that God can provide. Francis attracted others to his way of life and began the Order of Mendicant Friars. A sister order was established by Clare, to whom Franics was both friend and mentor. In the hymn of praise attributed to Francis, God is exalted for creating all of the elements of the world of which, according to Francis, humans are only one part. Francis placed people in the perspective of God's whole creation and asserted a relationship of kinship among all the elements. The example of his impoverished life drew others to him, and increased the numbers of the Franciscan Order. His began the first of the monastic groups to develop a spiritual life -- a life lived as much in the world as it was in the withdrawn quite life.
Likewise, Elizabeth Gurney Fry (1780-1845) exemplified an emphasis on living by Jesus' example. In addition to raising a large family, this wife of a wealthy London merchant single-handedly initiated, and caused the implementation of, efforts to reform the prison system in England. These reforms spread throughout the continent even during her lifetime.
Similarly, in the United States, Dorothea Lynde Dix (1802-1887) spearheaded the movement for the establishment of hospitals for the mentally ill, who were, at the time, being held in prisons. These people have admonished us to see Christ in our neighbors and to serve all who are in need. In these people and in many others, we see an example of people "leaving their nets" to follow.
I know of a business person who sold his automobile dealership in order to attend a theological seminary in preparation for ordained ministry in the United Methodist Church. I recently heard his wife say, "My husband came home one day and said, 'You will be very surprised at what I am about to say, but I want to sell the business and go into the ministry'!" Within a few days, the business had been sold, and the family began tramping along another path. "We have never been happier," said his wife. There was, for this family, a call and a response. Life, for them, has been reoriented.
During a seminar, a pastor said to me, "I think that I am hearing God call me out of the ordained ministry to the ministry of the laity. Is it possible for God to call me out of the ministry if God, once upon a time, called me into the ministry?" This pastor is beginning to hear a call which demands a response.
It is true that God calls us to journey. But, we do not know what experiences will be found along the path. Don Quixote went on such a journey. His creator, Miguel de Cervantes, was writing a not-so-gentle satire of how people viewed such a journey. John Bunyan's "Christian" went on a journey in Pilgrim's Progress. Through temptations and unhappy experiences, Christian stands steadfast in his faith until crossing through the waters of Jordon into the Celestial City. The people of Israel were on a similar journey from Egypt to their promised land. Their faith was sometimes tried and found wanting; but their leader, Moses, was steadfast and so was his appointed successor, Joshua. Likewise, Christians view life as following -- following in the steps of Jesus.
Where does that leave us? If others have heard the call and have responded in a radical way, then shouldn't we all do the same? I cannot answer that question for you. It has to be answered by each of us as we experience God's call in our lives. How one hears the call and responds to it is a matter of personal decision.
However, there is an inescapable truth in the story of Jesus' call to the fishermen and their response. The truth is that who we worship can and will make a claim on all of our lives. It is impossible to worship the God of Jesus Christ and not have that God expect more of us than we are often ready to give. Whether or not we respond to the call, the call of Christ is always unsettling. Hearing it is always disturbing. It disrupts our lives and pulls us in new directions.
To heed Christ's call to be a disciple is to follow Jesus, who manifests the kingly authority of God. It means submitting to his authority and turning our lives toward the Kingdom. It means a basic reorientation, from daily chores and activities, to a life oriented toward Christ. It means to direct our lives in a specific direction -- the very direction in which Jesus oriented his life. The proclamation of the kingdom is an implicit call to follow Jesus. Thus, being a disciple means turning toward and following he who manifests the kingly authority of God.
In Matthew, the call of the fisherman follows a sermon preached by Jesus. The theme of Jesus' sermon was "Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand." Jesus was saying that the reign of God is here, time is up, and God is now active in human history. The Kingdom of Heaven is not in the future, but right now. One enters the Kingdom, which is at hand, by repenting and responding to the call of Jesus. In his book, A Future for the Historical Jesus, Leander Keck expresses well the relationship between repentance and discipleship:
When one undertakes to align his [sic] life with that of Jesus as model or paradigm, he restructures his life -- that is, he repents. Immediately, it is apparent that Jesus revolutionizes repentance itself, for whereas John the Baptist required repentance as readiness for the coming of the Judge, Jesus summoned people to repent as a response to God's kingdom. Accordingly, in re-aligning the contours of one's life by trusting Jesus, one appropriates the central thrust of Jesus' own message: repentance as response. Since repentance is neither regret for not being religious sooner, nor remorse requisite for forgiveness, but the steady lifelong process of appropriating Jesus as one's paradigm, repentance holds together faith and ethics, religious trust and moral action. Repentance, so conceived, is not the prelude to Christian existence but the name of the game itself. To repent and to become a disciple (or to become a Christian) are the same thing -- appropriating Jesus as trustworthy.
So, the kingdom is announced and people respond. The immediate response of the first four disciples is evidence of the "at-handness" of the Kingdom which Jesus proclaimed. No longer is it possible to sit on the sidelines and wait for some better offer to come along. The Kingdom, and the one who proclaimed it, demands a response.
William Willamon tells about going with his wife to the funeral of a friend, which was held in a little country church out in the backwoods. The minister took advantage of the occasion to berate those who had come: "You people need to decide for Jesus now. This dear, departed brother is safe because he had chosen Christ. Now is the time! Repent before it is too late!" After the service, Willamon said, "Can you get over that guy, taking advantage of having all of us there to beat us over the head about how it is important to make a decision right now."
"Yes," replied his wife, "and the worst thing about it is -- he is right." (Christian Century, Fall 1986)
Matthew 5:1-12
Fourth Sunday after Epiphany
The Poor in Spirit
Most of us would say that the Beatitudes are well known and greatly loved by Christian people. They are beautiful. They dance and sing on the lips of those who say them. They have an unparalleled syntax that only the Jewish mind can capture and express. They are immortal. Hymns, anthems, songs, prayers, and liturgy have reflected upon their meaning and beauty.
Although we read them in our personal devotion because of their beauty, most of us do not get very excited about poverty of spirit, mourning, meekness, hunger and thirst for righteousness, mercifulness, purity of heart, peacemaking, and persecution for righteousness' sake. These are not the things that excite us. We become enthusiastic about qualities and values quite different from those expressed in the Beatitudes. We read the Beatitudes as people whose minds are shaped by an industrial, technological, marketplace mentality.
The word "blessed" in the Beatitudes literally means happy. But, the qualities expressed in the Beatitudes are not the common understanding of what it means to be happy. Happiness, for this generation, is a psychological state of inward satisfaction. The aim of happiness, as we understand it, is to feel good about ourselves and lives. Like the rising and setting of the sun, happiness seems to come and go in our lives. It is rarely constant. Although we chase after happiness for all we are worth, happiness, unlike blessedness, is dependent upon many external factors.
Blessedness, on the other hand, is deeper and far more inward than happiness. It is a state of being that is not primarily effected by the ebb and flow of life's tides. Unlike our ordinary view of happiness, has its roots in God. Blessedness comes because our life is dependent upon God. It is a gift from God which, according to the New Testament, comes to those who suffer because of their faithfulness. Blessedness is not a Hollywood kind of happiness. Instead, blessedness refers to a deep abiding happiness that can neither be given nor taken away by the world. It is well-being and prosperity: the gift of God to all people.
Today, I do not want to talk about all of the qualities expressed in the Beatitudes. I want to take one of them and see if it can shed light on the rest.
"Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven." Notice that Jesus did not say, "Blessed are the poor." Jesus knew that blessedness was not tied to material poverty. The materially poor are not automatically happy, just as the materially wealthy are not automatically blessed. According to the Christian faith, happiness comes from the inside out and not from the outside in. It is not the kind of house that a person lives in, but the kind of person who lives in the house, that really matters. It's not the kind of clothing that a person wears, but the kind of person inside the clothing, that really counts. It's not the kind of church that a person goes to, but the kind of person inside the church, that has ultimate significance.
By saying, "Blessed are the poor in spirit," Jesus was driving at something very fundamental and quite basic. Jesus was saying, "Happy are those people who feel their spiritual poverty." If a person is poor, that person feels his or her poverty. Poverty is not academic or ethereal, but deeply felt inside of that human being. Therefore, Jesus meant "Blessed are those persons who feel their spiritual poverty. Blessed are those persons who are not certain of their own efficiency." In other words, Jesus was saying that we must first accept our spiritual poverty before we can begin a spiritual reformation.
Notice what Jesus did not say. Jesus did not say, "Blessed are those who have it all together." Jesus did not say, "Blessed are those who have all of the right answers." Jesus did not say, "Blessed are the people who have it all wrapped up, tied in bow, so that they understand it." Jesus did not say, "Blessed are the people who are certain of themselves." Jesus did not say, "Blessed are the people who have made sense out of everything." He did not say, "Blessed are the people who have their hands full of themselves." He did not say, "Blessed are the people who think they have it right on target every minute all of the time." He did not say, "Blessed are the know-it-alls."
Jesus said, "Blessed are those who know they don't have it all put together. Blessed are those who are not certain and yet keep questing. Blessed are those who are uncertain of themselves and yet seek certainty. Blessed are those who know that they have missed the mark and yet keep trying to find a better way." The acceptance of spiritual poverty is the prelude to blessedness.
In 1961, a group of students from the Vanderbilt Divinity School took a field trip to visit the Abbey of Our Lady of Gethsemane, a Trappist monastery located in central Kentucky. Thomas Merton, who was possibly the most famous Trappist monk of modern times, was still living at Gethsemane. Like the other monks who had chosen to live there, Thomas Merton had long since taken the Cistercian vows of celibacy, poverty, silence, and stability. He had given himself to a life of contemplation and prayer. Those seminarians who visited Gethsemane had the opportunity to visit with the now famous Thomas Merton. Little did most of them realize the greatness of the man who came and sat in their circle that day. His voice was soft and quiet. His eyes were deep and thoughtful. His character seemed to be in tune with the great harmony of God. Every square inch and every molecule of his body seemed to be filled with worship, quietness, prayer, and reflection. In the judgment of those seminarians, Thomas Merton was by every standard wealthy in the eyes of God. But, when Thomas Merton described himself to those young seminary students, he depicted himself in a different way. With the quietness of an April morning he said, "I am spiritually poor." "Little do we realize," he continued, "the meaning of spiritual poverty, and the emptiness of desolation. The contemplation of God springs out of pure emptiness and genuine poverty." Although Thomas Merton had spent his life absorbing the life of Christ, he did not feel wealthy, but impoverished, in the eyes of God.
By contrast, most modern day Christians seem to have very little hunger for that which is spiritual. Our spiritual appetites have diminished. I am told by physicians that when one becomes sick, one of the symptoms of illness is the loss of appetite. Often when one becomes ill, one does not want to eat. Food turns the stomach. So it is with spiritual things. When we become spiritually sick, our spiritual appetite vanishes. Because we no longer have an appetite for that which is spiritual, many of us plod along trying to live vital lives with a tired and drab religion.
Or, perhaps, we have a misplaced hunger. Perhaps our need for security, power, and recognition is but another form of hunger for that which is eternal. When we are spiritually poor, we know that we cannot depend on ourselves. We know that we must depend on one who is greater. The poor in spirit are those who have a radical dependence on God that goes beyond dependence on the finite. The poor in spirit are those who have an earnest devouring hunger for God, while knowing that such hunger will never be satisfied and that the cup will never be full. The poor in spirit are those, who by their very nature, are thirsty and hungry for something outside of themselves.
Consider this possibility. Those who are hungry for God, those who have an appetite for the spiritual, those who are honestly seeking and questing -- they are closer to God than some people who feel spiritually full and spiritually satisfied.
The poor in spirit are more like pilgrims than settlers. They are more like learners than like those who know it all. The poor in spirit are those who are open to new insights and new ways. They are those who know that their judgments are not absolute and final.
The great evangelist, E. Stanley Jones, once said, "We don't break God's laws, we break against them." Be certain of this fact: we do not break the Beatitudes, but if we live contrary to their spirit, we will break against them. If we try to live contrary to mercy, humility, goodness, purity, and all of the other qualities expressed, it is not the Beatitudes that will be shattered. It is those of us who live contrary to their spirit who will be broken.
The reasoning of this world begs us to live a style of life contrary to that of the Beatitudes. Our society teaches that blessedness comes by another route. The voices of our day say, "Blessed are those who are full. Blessed are those who are rich. Blessed are those who are successful. Blessed are those who are satisfied. Blessed are those who hold and wield power. Blessed are the beautiful people. Blessed are the upwardly mobile. Blessed are those who live on the sunny side of the street. Blessed are those who are not sick or frail, who do not make mistakes, and who never incurred the rejection of others because of a stand or position taken."
Those who are blessed are those who know the value of being spiritually poor. But, the problem is this: most of us are so full of everything that it rarely occurs to us to come empty before God.
A number of years ago, I became aware that I needed some dental work. I had a rather persistent toothache when I moved my tongue around the inside of my mouth, the spaces seemed like the Grand Canyon. Although I was aware that I needed dental help, I was very reluctant to go for help. I was not quite ready to accept it, much less, move on it.
I was with a rather modest parish at that time. In order to save some money, I decided that I would go to the University of Tennessee Dental School to let them look at my mouth and help me decide what kind of work I needed to have done. They accepted me in a rather routine manner. They cleaned my teeth and took some x-rays of my mouth. The young hygienist who worked on me said, "Mr. Pennel, just stay here a little while." She brought in a student, and he got all excited. Then she brought in another student, and this student also got excited. Soon, I saw the students talking in another room. They had called the professor in and were discussing who would get to work on my mouth. A young dentist literally worked his way through Dental School on my mouth. He filled my teeth. He put in bridges. He capped and crowned. He worked on my gums. In fact, after he finished with me, he took an impression of my mouth. He was so proud of it. On the last day, he brought the impression with my name penciled in and said, "I'm going to keep this on my shelf for as long as I practice dentistry."
Until I accepted the poverty of my dental condition, I was not really ready to get my teeth fixed. I had to accept the poverty of my dental condition before I could be free to decide to get something done about it. So it is in our spiritual lives. Before our spiritual lives can grow, we first have to accept its poverty, its decay, and its need. Until we accept its decay and its poverty, we usually find no real motivation for its growth.
"Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven."
After Jesus had finished preaching a sermon in Capernaum, he took a stroll along the banks of the Sea of Galilee. As Jesus walked by the sea side, he noticed two brothers -- Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew, his brother -- casting a net into the sea. He called out to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." Peter and Andrew did not sit in the boat and reflect on what Jesus said to them. Apparently, they did not count the cost. Nor did they call a committee meeting. Nor did they form an association to provide them with support. Instead, they immediately left their nets and followed him.
As Jesus continued his walk along the sea side, he saw two other brothers -- James, the son of Zebedee, and John, his brother, in the boat and Zebedee, their father. They were rocking back and forth in the boat, minding their own business, and mending their nets when Jesus called out to them to follow. As with Peter and Andrew, they left their trade and their father and followed after Jesus of Nazareth. According to Matthew, they did not hesitate. They followed immediately.
Who among us would respond in this way? I mean, how many people in this congregation today would put a padlock on their business and chase a person like Jesus?
I, for one, would argue with Jesus about that. I have a wife and two daughters who need my support. I have house notes, car notes, and bills to pay. I have groceries to buy and clothing to purchase. I have responsibilities to this congregation and to this community. I am involved in many things which are important to me. In a few short months, my younger daughter will be graduating from high school. I want to be there for the baccalaureate, the graduation exercises, the gifts, the parties, and all the rest. Next year, my older daughter will be graduating from Lambuth College. "All the king's horses and all the king's men" could not keep me from being on the Lambuth campus for that special day in the history of our family.
What if everybody followed the example of those fishermen? What if everybody heard the call and heeded it? Who would mind the store? Who would pay the taxes? Who would run the church? Who would paint, make music, or govern? Our tendency is to brush off this story as being unrealistic. After all, not one person in this congregation is going to respond as Peter, Andrew, James, and John did. It is okay for them to be radical in their response. But, it is not okay for us.
On the other hand, one cannot read the New Testament without seeing that some followed in a radical way. Jesus said, "Follow me," to a tax collector named Matthew; and Matthew got up and followed him. Philip, who was from Andrew and Peter's hometown, followed his calling by helping Jesus to feed the five thousand. John reports that Jesus said, "Follow me," and Nathaniel, also known as Bartholomew, followed. According to church tradition, Bartholomew followed the call by carrying the Gospel to various countries, including India. Thomas, having been called, said to his fellow disciples, "Let us also go, that we may die with him." And Paul, who heard Jesus say, "Rise and enter the city and you will be told what to do," went forth and proclaimed: "Jesus is the Son of God."
Every now and then, someone does respond in a radical and unexpected way. Dr. Fred Craddock tells the story of a medical student who heard the call and made a radical response. A young woman came to him after hearing his sermon on today's text. She had decided to leave medical school and go to work among migrant workers in the Rio Grande Valley. Dr. Craddock did not manipulate her unexpected response. Instead, they talked for a long time about the meaning of her decision. Her parents were, understandably, furious with the new direction her life had taken. Like those fishermen, however, she heard the call and she stayed with it.
And there have been others. People in the western tradition have long known about Francis of Assisi. He turned from a life of luxury to one of voluntary poverty with the intention of sharing his possessions with the poor. He became an example to his fellow townspeople of the biblical assurance that God can provide. Francis attracted others to his way of life and began the Order of Mendicant Friars. A sister order was established by Clare, to whom Franics was both friend and mentor. In the hymn of praise attributed to Francis, God is exalted for creating all of the elements of the world of which, according to Francis, humans are only one part. Francis placed people in the perspective of God's whole creation and asserted a relationship of kinship among all the elements. The example of his impoverished life drew others to him, and increased the numbers of the Franciscan Order. His began the first of the monastic groups to develop a spiritual life -- a life lived as much in the world as it was in the withdrawn quite life.
Likewise, Elizabeth Gurney Fry (1780-1845) exemplified an emphasis on living by Jesus' example. In addition to raising a large family, this wife of a wealthy London merchant single-handedly initiated, and caused the implementation of, efforts to reform the prison system in England. These reforms spread throughout the continent even during her lifetime.
Similarly, in the United States, Dorothea Lynde Dix (1802-1887) spearheaded the movement for the establishment of hospitals for the mentally ill, who were, at the time, being held in prisons. These people have admonished us to see Christ in our neighbors and to serve all who are in need. In these people and in many others, we see an example of people "leaving their nets" to follow.
I know of a business person who sold his automobile dealership in order to attend a theological seminary in preparation for ordained ministry in the United Methodist Church. I recently heard his wife say, "My husband came home one day and said, 'You will be very surprised at what I am about to say, but I want to sell the business and go into the ministry'!" Within a few days, the business had been sold, and the family began tramping along another path. "We have never been happier," said his wife. There was, for this family, a call and a response. Life, for them, has been reoriented.
During a seminar, a pastor said to me, "I think that I am hearing God call me out of the ordained ministry to the ministry of the laity. Is it possible for God to call me out of the ministry if God, once upon a time, called me into the ministry?" This pastor is beginning to hear a call which demands a response.
It is true that God calls us to journey. But, we do not know what experiences will be found along the path. Don Quixote went on such a journey. His creator, Miguel de Cervantes, was writing a not-so-gentle satire of how people viewed such a journey. John Bunyan's "Christian" went on a journey in Pilgrim's Progress. Through temptations and unhappy experiences, Christian stands steadfast in his faith until crossing through the waters of Jordon into the Celestial City. The people of Israel were on a similar journey from Egypt to their promised land. Their faith was sometimes tried and found wanting; but their leader, Moses, was steadfast and so was his appointed successor, Joshua. Likewise, Christians view life as following -- following in the steps of Jesus.
Where does that leave us? If others have heard the call and have responded in a radical way, then shouldn't we all do the same? I cannot answer that question for you. It has to be answered by each of us as we experience God's call in our lives. How one hears the call and responds to it is a matter of personal decision.
However, there is an inescapable truth in the story of Jesus' call to the fishermen and their response. The truth is that who we worship can and will make a claim on all of our lives. It is impossible to worship the God of Jesus Christ and not have that God expect more of us than we are often ready to give. Whether or not we respond to the call, the call of Christ is always unsettling. Hearing it is always disturbing. It disrupts our lives and pulls us in new directions.
To heed Christ's call to be a disciple is to follow Jesus, who manifests the kingly authority of God. It means submitting to his authority and turning our lives toward the Kingdom. It means a basic reorientation, from daily chores and activities, to a life oriented toward Christ. It means to direct our lives in a specific direction -- the very direction in which Jesus oriented his life. The proclamation of the kingdom is an implicit call to follow Jesus. Thus, being a disciple means turning toward and following he who manifests the kingly authority of God.
In Matthew, the call of the fisherman follows a sermon preached by Jesus. The theme of Jesus' sermon was "Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand." Jesus was saying that the reign of God is here, time is up, and God is now active in human history. The Kingdom of Heaven is not in the future, but right now. One enters the Kingdom, which is at hand, by repenting and responding to the call of Jesus. In his book, A Future for the Historical Jesus, Leander Keck expresses well the relationship between repentance and discipleship:
When one undertakes to align his [sic] life with that of Jesus as model or paradigm, he restructures his life -- that is, he repents. Immediately, it is apparent that Jesus revolutionizes repentance itself, for whereas John the Baptist required repentance as readiness for the coming of the Judge, Jesus summoned people to repent as a response to God's kingdom. Accordingly, in re-aligning the contours of one's life by trusting Jesus, one appropriates the central thrust of Jesus' own message: repentance as response. Since repentance is neither regret for not being religious sooner, nor remorse requisite for forgiveness, but the steady lifelong process of appropriating Jesus as one's paradigm, repentance holds together faith and ethics, religious trust and moral action. Repentance, so conceived, is not the prelude to Christian existence but the name of the game itself. To repent and to become a disciple (or to become a Christian) are the same thing -- appropriating Jesus as trustworthy.
So, the kingdom is announced and people respond. The immediate response of the first four disciples is evidence of the "at-handness" of the Kingdom which Jesus proclaimed. No longer is it possible to sit on the sidelines and wait for some better offer to come along. The Kingdom, and the one who proclaimed it, demands a response.
William Willamon tells about going with his wife to the funeral of a friend, which was held in a little country church out in the backwoods. The minister took advantage of the occasion to berate those who had come: "You people need to decide for Jesus now. This dear, departed brother is safe because he had chosen Christ. Now is the time! Repent before it is too late!" After the service, Willamon said, "Can you get over that guy, taking advantage of having all of us there to beat us over the head about how it is important to make a decision right now."
"Yes," replied his wife, "and the worst thing about it is -- he is right." (Christian Century, Fall 1986)
Matthew 5:1-12
Fourth Sunday after Epiphany
The Poor in Spirit
Most of us would say that the Beatitudes are well known and greatly loved by Christian people. They are beautiful. They dance and sing on the lips of those who say them. They have an unparalleled syntax that only the Jewish mind can capture and express. They are immortal. Hymns, anthems, songs, prayers, and liturgy have reflected upon their meaning and beauty.
Although we read them in our personal devotion because of their beauty, most of us do not get very excited about poverty of spirit, mourning, meekness, hunger and thirst for righteousness, mercifulness, purity of heart, peacemaking, and persecution for righteousness' sake. These are not the things that excite us. We become enthusiastic about qualities and values quite different from those expressed in the Beatitudes. We read the Beatitudes as people whose minds are shaped by an industrial, technological, marketplace mentality.
The word "blessed" in the Beatitudes literally means happy. But, the qualities expressed in the Beatitudes are not the common understanding of what it means to be happy. Happiness, for this generation, is a psychological state of inward satisfaction. The aim of happiness, as we understand it, is to feel good about ourselves and lives. Like the rising and setting of the sun, happiness seems to come and go in our lives. It is rarely constant. Although we chase after happiness for all we are worth, happiness, unlike blessedness, is dependent upon many external factors.
Blessedness, on the other hand, is deeper and far more inward than happiness. It is a state of being that is not primarily effected by the ebb and flow of life's tides. Unlike our ordinary view of happiness, has its roots in God. Blessedness comes because our life is dependent upon God. It is a gift from God which, according to the New Testament, comes to those who suffer because of their faithfulness. Blessedness is not a Hollywood kind of happiness. Instead, blessedness refers to a deep abiding happiness that can neither be given nor taken away by the world. It is well-being and prosperity: the gift of God to all people.
Today, I do not want to talk about all of the qualities expressed in the Beatitudes. I want to take one of them and see if it can shed light on the rest.
"Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven." Notice that Jesus did not say, "Blessed are the poor." Jesus knew that blessedness was not tied to material poverty. The materially poor are not automatically happy, just as the materially wealthy are not automatically blessed. According to the Christian faith, happiness comes from the inside out and not from the outside in. It is not the kind of house that a person lives in, but the kind of person who lives in the house, that really matters. It's not the kind of clothing that a person wears, but the kind of person inside the clothing, that really counts. It's not the kind of church that a person goes to, but the kind of person inside the church, that has ultimate significance.
By saying, "Blessed are the poor in spirit," Jesus was driving at something very fundamental and quite basic. Jesus was saying, "Happy are those people who feel their spiritual poverty." If a person is poor, that person feels his or her poverty. Poverty is not academic or ethereal, but deeply felt inside of that human being. Therefore, Jesus meant "Blessed are those persons who feel their spiritual poverty. Blessed are those persons who are not certain of their own efficiency." In other words, Jesus was saying that we must first accept our spiritual poverty before we can begin a spiritual reformation.
Notice what Jesus did not say. Jesus did not say, "Blessed are those who have it all together." Jesus did not say, "Blessed are those who have all of the right answers." Jesus did not say, "Blessed are the people who have it all wrapped up, tied in bow, so that they understand it." Jesus did not say, "Blessed are the people who are certain of themselves." Jesus did not say, "Blessed are the people who have made sense out of everything." He did not say, "Blessed are the people who have their hands full of themselves." He did not say, "Blessed are the people who think they have it right on target every minute all of the time." He did not say, "Blessed are the know-it-alls."
Jesus said, "Blessed are those who know they don't have it all put together. Blessed are those who are not certain and yet keep questing. Blessed are those who are uncertain of themselves and yet seek certainty. Blessed are those who know that they have missed the mark and yet keep trying to find a better way." The acceptance of spiritual poverty is the prelude to blessedness.
In 1961, a group of students from the Vanderbilt Divinity School took a field trip to visit the Abbey of Our Lady of Gethsemane, a Trappist monastery located in central Kentucky. Thomas Merton, who was possibly the most famous Trappist monk of modern times, was still living at Gethsemane. Like the other monks who had chosen to live there, Thomas Merton had long since taken the Cistercian vows of celibacy, poverty, silence, and stability. He had given himself to a life of contemplation and prayer. Those seminarians who visited Gethsemane had the opportunity to visit with the now famous Thomas Merton. Little did most of them realize the greatness of the man who came and sat in their circle that day. His voice was soft and quiet. His eyes were deep and thoughtful. His character seemed to be in tune with the great harmony of God. Every square inch and every molecule of his body seemed to be filled with worship, quietness, prayer, and reflection. In the judgment of those seminarians, Thomas Merton was by every standard wealthy in the eyes of God. But, when Thomas Merton described himself to those young seminary students, he depicted himself in a different way. With the quietness of an April morning he said, "I am spiritually poor." "Little do we realize," he continued, "the meaning of spiritual poverty, and the emptiness of desolation. The contemplation of God springs out of pure emptiness and genuine poverty." Although Thomas Merton had spent his life absorbing the life of Christ, he did not feel wealthy, but impoverished, in the eyes of God.
By contrast, most modern day Christians seem to have very little hunger for that which is spiritual. Our spiritual appetites have diminished. I am told by physicians that when one becomes sick, one of the symptoms of illness is the loss of appetite. Often when one becomes ill, one does not want to eat. Food turns the stomach. So it is with spiritual things. When we become spiritually sick, our spiritual appetite vanishes. Because we no longer have an appetite for that which is spiritual, many of us plod along trying to live vital lives with a tired and drab religion.
Or, perhaps, we have a misplaced hunger. Perhaps our need for security, power, and recognition is but another form of hunger for that which is eternal. When we are spiritually poor, we know that we cannot depend on ourselves. We know that we must depend on one who is greater. The poor in spirit are those who have a radical dependence on God that goes beyond dependence on the finite. The poor in spirit are those who have an earnest devouring hunger for God, while knowing that such hunger will never be satisfied and that the cup will never be full. The poor in spirit are those, who by their very nature, are thirsty and hungry for something outside of themselves.
Consider this possibility. Those who are hungry for God, those who have an appetite for the spiritual, those who are honestly seeking and questing -- they are closer to God than some people who feel spiritually full and spiritually satisfied.
The poor in spirit are more like pilgrims than settlers. They are more like learners than like those who know it all. The poor in spirit are those who are open to new insights and new ways. They are those who know that their judgments are not absolute and final.
The great evangelist, E. Stanley Jones, once said, "We don't break God's laws, we break against them." Be certain of this fact: we do not break the Beatitudes, but if we live contrary to their spirit, we will break against them. If we try to live contrary to mercy, humility, goodness, purity, and all of the other qualities expressed, it is not the Beatitudes that will be shattered. It is those of us who live contrary to their spirit who will be broken.
The reasoning of this world begs us to live a style of life contrary to that of the Beatitudes. Our society teaches that blessedness comes by another route. The voices of our day say, "Blessed are those who are full. Blessed are those who are rich. Blessed are those who are successful. Blessed are those who are satisfied. Blessed are those who hold and wield power. Blessed are the beautiful people. Blessed are the upwardly mobile. Blessed are those who live on the sunny side of the street. Blessed are those who are not sick or frail, who do not make mistakes, and who never incurred the rejection of others because of a stand or position taken."
Those who are blessed are those who know the value of being spiritually poor. But, the problem is this: most of us are so full of everything that it rarely occurs to us to come empty before God.
A number of years ago, I became aware that I needed some dental work. I had a rather persistent toothache when I moved my tongue around the inside of my mouth, the spaces seemed like the Grand Canyon. Although I was aware that I needed dental help, I was very reluctant to go for help. I was not quite ready to accept it, much less, move on it.
I was with a rather modest parish at that time. In order to save some money, I decided that I would go to the University of Tennessee Dental School to let them look at my mouth and help me decide what kind of work I needed to have done. They accepted me in a rather routine manner. They cleaned my teeth and took some x-rays of my mouth. The young hygienist who worked on me said, "Mr. Pennel, just stay here a little while." She brought in a student, and he got all excited. Then she brought in another student, and this student also got excited. Soon, I saw the students talking in another room. They had called the professor in and were discussing who would get to work on my mouth. A young dentist literally worked his way through Dental School on my mouth. He filled my teeth. He put in bridges. He capped and crowned. He worked on my gums. In fact, after he finished with me, he took an impression of my mouth. He was so proud of it. On the last day, he brought the impression with my name penciled in and said, "I'm going to keep this on my shelf for as long as I practice dentistry."
Until I accepted the poverty of my dental condition, I was not really ready to get my teeth fixed. I had to accept the poverty of my dental condition before I could be free to decide to get something done about it. So it is in our spiritual lives. Before our spiritual lives can grow, we first have to accept its poverty, its decay, and its need. Until we accept its decay and its poverty, we usually find no real motivation for its growth.
"Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven."
