Double Image
Sermon
No Box Seats in the Kingdom
Sermons For The Sundays After Pentecost (Last Third)
"You know why I want to join the church?" The speaker was a father in his thirties, holding an infant on his shoulder. A red Land's End diaper bag was slung over his other shoulder. His wife stood next to him in the church narthex, holding the hand of a cranky two-year-old with a runny nose. The father said, "We began to worry about raising our children. There are too many opinions about what's right and what's wrong, too many temptations, too many possible wrong turns. We want our kids to learn some positive values, and the church seemed like a place where they can learn them. We want to join the church because the church is one place that teaches good values."
Most young parents understand his concern. We have come through a period of about thirty years where many voices in our culture have attempted to be value-free. Child psychologists have told parents, "Don't burden your children with your moral opinions. They have to decide for themselves what is right and wrong." Therapists have invited clients to enter a judgment-free room and say whatever they wish, without fear of recourse or punishment. Even some church leaders have said, "It is not our role to tell people what to think. At best we help them clarify what is already on their minds." For the last thirty years, many people have reacted against the kind of authoritarianism that squelches freedom and denies diversity.
Yet as we approach a new century, the moral climate has changed. Pastors increasingly hear people admit that they are not sure what they believe. Life in the '90s is perplexing and ambiguous. People want guidance. They ask for direction. As one frustrated woman said to her support group, "Don't just sit there and accept me -- tell me what I need to hear!" Churches in our time that offer simple answers to complex questions of right and wrong are churches that seem to grow quickly, much to the chagrin of those of us who live with complexity. Nevertheless, something must be said. A clear word is needed for confusing times.
It is good news, then, that Jesus was a teacher. According to the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus climbed a mountain like a new Moses and taught with authority unlike anybody else. In the first gospel, there are five large collections of his teachings, analogous to the five books of the Jewish law. If Jesus' teachings are the core of Matthew's book, the most important collection of his teachings is the Sermon on the Mount. And if the Sermon on the Mount is the central collection of Jesus' teachings, then the beatitudes are the heart of the Sermon on the Mount. The blessings he offers are glimpses of the kingdom he proclaims, for they point to the values which are honored within the dominion of God. Whom does God bless? The poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers, the pure in heart, those hungry and thirsty for righteousness, and those persecuted for righteousness' sake.
Needless to say, the pronunciation of blessings on such people is an act that most of us don't completely understand. Jesus' beatitudes list a variety of characteristics that sketch the kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. Yet precisely here, where we expect his teachings to be the clearest, the full meaning of what he says lies outside our reach. As he offers a glimpse of the kingdom and its fundamental values, we stumble down the mountain somewhat dizzy and gasping for breath. We are not sure how to understand the beatitudes.
Scholars have their opinions, of course. Some interpreters of Matthew say the beatitudes offer a glimpse of the future, a peek of the day when every tear shall be dried and suffering shall be no more. Regardless of whatever distress we experience today, the beatitudes announce that someday God will set things right. After all, Jesus says those who mourn will be comforted. Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be satisfied. The beatitudes give us hope for the future. They keep us going in the present by pointing to what lies ahead.
On the morning before Bill Clinton took the presidential oath of office, he went to a nearby church for a prayer service. Someone read the beatitudes during the service. When the reader came to the last two verses, someone observed Mr. Clinton mouthing the words of Jesus: "Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven."1 They were good words for a politician to say, particularly on the opening day of what turned out to be a rocky term of office. Any American politician who tries to take an occasional stand for what is holy, just, and true can expect persecution, slander, and false accounts. The only reward may be a heavenly one.
Some scholars claim we should interpret the beatitudes in terms of their promised final reward. "If you are mourning now, someday you will be comforted." "If you are hungry for justice today, in the future you will be satisfied."
The problem with this interpretation, however, is that Jesus doesn't keep his tenses straight. He mixes present tense with the future tense. "Blessed are the meek," he says in the present tense, "for they shall inherit the earth," in the future tense. "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven," here and now in the present. Is he speaking of now or then? We can't be sure.
Other interpreters say this mixture of future and present indicates the purpose behind these teachings. The beatitudes point us toward God's future, to be sure, but this future is already mixed like leaven in the dough of present-day life. That is, the beatitudes offer not merely a glimpse of God's future, but a vision of how we can live today.
All things considered, that, too, is a good interpretation. You may have noticed that Jesus does not address the beatitudes to anybody in particular. As he teaches on the mountain, he releases his blessings into the air. "Blessed are the meek," whoever they are. "Blessed are the merciful," wherever they may be. "Blessed are the peacemakers," whoever, wherever. If the blessing fits our circumstances, welcome to the kingdom! If it doesn't fit, we can put ourselves in a position to receive the blessing. If we desire a happy life, we must get out into the world and be poor in spirit. If we want to be blessed, we must become peacemakers.
This is a good interpretation of the beatitudes. The problem is it doesn't work like a scientific formula. There is no assurance that anybody who tries to live out the beatitudes will turn out to be happy or blessed.
In the last century, a Belgian priest named Father Damien went to live on a remote island colony among people with leprosy. Father Damien tried to live the values of the beatitudes. He was pure in heart, merciful, hungry and thirsty for righteousness. He was publicly persecuted for doing what he believed was right. His biographers also say he was often lonely, depressed, and stubborn. His immediate superiors branded him a troublemaker.2 Despite failed attempts within the Roman Catholic church to name him as a saint, few people who knew Father Damien called him "happy" or "blessed."
There is no simple assurance that living the beatitudes will make somebody's life a blessed bed of roses. We can claim them as values to teach our children and virtues to pursue in daily life, but they are not stepping stones for success, at least not in this age. As someone said, "Blessed are the meek? Try being meek tomorrow when you go to work and see how far you get. Meekness is fine for church, but in the real world, the meek get to go home early with a pink slip and a pat on the back."3
It is difficult to understand the beatitudes of Jesus. Perhaps this wild, untamed quality is the very source of their power.4 Anybody who learns these words from the Gospel of Matthew may not understand them right away. Whoever takes these teachings seriously may wonder how Jesus can actually say them in such a rough and aggressive world. They do not comfort anxious parents, give quick assurances to politicians, or promise relief for feisty priests. But they do unsettle us. If these blessings by Jesus are truly inscribed upon our hearts, they prompt us to wonder whether or not they are true. Are the poor in spirit blessed by God? Is God revealed to the pure in heart? Will God give the earth as a free inheritance to the meek? We cannot know completely unless we are following Jesus, who epitomized what it means to be meek, pure, and poor in spirit. Does God show mercy to the merciful? Does God claim those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness? We cannot be sure until we have been set free by the death and resurrection of Jesus, who claims us in mercy. When we are sufficiently unsettled by the living word of the living Christ, then the beatitudes can offer their blessing.
A bricklayer from Texas died a few years ago. Many Texans freely admit they are not generally known for their meekness or gentleness. As someone notes, they are a flinty people formed by a dry wind that blows across a hard land. A true Texan is typically full of bluster, not humility. Yet this bricklayer was a follower of Jesus Christ, and his discipleship tempered him into a gentle man. It was most evident in his work.
At the memorial service, his son offered an eloquent testimony of how the father's faith had affected the quality of his daily work. If customers wanted quick and cheap work, this man took his time to do the job well and asked for a fair wage. When inferior brick became available, he refused to take shortcuts in his building materials. He never made a lot of money or received widespread fame, yet he rested in the confidence of a hard day's work done well.
What kind of life does God value? We cannot really know until we follow Jesus Christ to the point that it makes a difference in how we live. God's blessing comes not to those who pursue meekness, but to those who pursue Jesus Christ and welcome God's earth as a holy inheritance. Satisfaction comes not to those who work to make themselves righteous, but to those hungry for God's righteousness, as revealed in the cross of Jesus.
The beatitudes of Jesus announce a realm of values that press us to ask where we belong. Do we belong to a world of persecution, war-making, and death? Or do we belong to a realm of mercy and comfort, purity and righteousness? Daily life can confuse us, until we claim our place among Christ's unfinished saints. As we follow Jesus, the blessing of the Gospel is that we begin to see the realm of God which this world does not yet see.
Frederick Buechner tells about watching a scene in the Ken Burns film series on the Civil War. It was the fiftieth anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg, and veterans from North and South gathered at the battleground to reminisce. At one point, the veterans decided to reenact Pickett's Charge. All the participants took their positions, and then one side began to charge the other. Instead of swords and rifles, this time the vets carried canes and crutches. As both sides converged, the old men did not fight. Instead they embraced and began to weep.
Buechner muses, "If only those doddering old veterans had seen in 1863 what they now saw so clearly fifty years later." Then he adds:
Half a century later, they saw that the great battle had been a great madness. The men who were advancing toward them across the field of Gettysburg were not enemies. They were human beings like themselves, with the same dreams, needs, hopes, the same wives and children waiting for them to come home . . . What they saw was that we were, all of us, created not to do battle with each other but to love each other, and it was not just a truth they saw. For a few minutes, it was a truth they lived. It was a truth they became.5
Where do we belong? When we look out the window, we see a world of division and war. There are debts to pay and dangers that scare us to death. It looks like our children are at risk, and the future seems tenuous.
But now and then, as we follow Jesus, this weary, old world is unmasked as an illusion, and we see beyond a shadow of a doubt that the kingdom of heaven is at hand.
____________
1. As reported by Michael McManus, Scranton Times 24 January 1993.
2. Gavan Daws, Holy Man (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1984), p. 249.
3. William H. Willimon, On a Wild and Windy Mountain (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1984), p, 66.
4. I am indebted to Thomas G. Long for this insight, which comes from a sermon he preached to The Homiletical Feast, Princeton, NJ, 18 January 1993.
5. Frederick Buechner, "Journey Toward Wholeness," Theology Today 49/4 (January 1993), pp. 454-464.
Most young parents understand his concern. We have come through a period of about thirty years where many voices in our culture have attempted to be value-free. Child psychologists have told parents, "Don't burden your children with your moral opinions. They have to decide for themselves what is right and wrong." Therapists have invited clients to enter a judgment-free room and say whatever they wish, without fear of recourse or punishment. Even some church leaders have said, "It is not our role to tell people what to think. At best we help them clarify what is already on their minds." For the last thirty years, many people have reacted against the kind of authoritarianism that squelches freedom and denies diversity.
Yet as we approach a new century, the moral climate has changed. Pastors increasingly hear people admit that they are not sure what they believe. Life in the '90s is perplexing and ambiguous. People want guidance. They ask for direction. As one frustrated woman said to her support group, "Don't just sit there and accept me -- tell me what I need to hear!" Churches in our time that offer simple answers to complex questions of right and wrong are churches that seem to grow quickly, much to the chagrin of those of us who live with complexity. Nevertheless, something must be said. A clear word is needed for confusing times.
It is good news, then, that Jesus was a teacher. According to the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus climbed a mountain like a new Moses and taught with authority unlike anybody else. In the first gospel, there are five large collections of his teachings, analogous to the five books of the Jewish law. If Jesus' teachings are the core of Matthew's book, the most important collection of his teachings is the Sermon on the Mount. And if the Sermon on the Mount is the central collection of Jesus' teachings, then the beatitudes are the heart of the Sermon on the Mount. The blessings he offers are glimpses of the kingdom he proclaims, for they point to the values which are honored within the dominion of God. Whom does God bless? The poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers, the pure in heart, those hungry and thirsty for righteousness, and those persecuted for righteousness' sake.
Needless to say, the pronunciation of blessings on such people is an act that most of us don't completely understand. Jesus' beatitudes list a variety of characteristics that sketch the kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. Yet precisely here, where we expect his teachings to be the clearest, the full meaning of what he says lies outside our reach. As he offers a glimpse of the kingdom and its fundamental values, we stumble down the mountain somewhat dizzy and gasping for breath. We are not sure how to understand the beatitudes.
Scholars have their opinions, of course. Some interpreters of Matthew say the beatitudes offer a glimpse of the future, a peek of the day when every tear shall be dried and suffering shall be no more. Regardless of whatever distress we experience today, the beatitudes announce that someday God will set things right. After all, Jesus says those who mourn will be comforted. Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be satisfied. The beatitudes give us hope for the future. They keep us going in the present by pointing to what lies ahead.
On the morning before Bill Clinton took the presidential oath of office, he went to a nearby church for a prayer service. Someone read the beatitudes during the service. When the reader came to the last two verses, someone observed Mr. Clinton mouthing the words of Jesus: "Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven."1 They were good words for a politician to say, particularly on the opening day of what turned out to be a rocky term of office. Any American politician who tries to take an occasional stand for what is holy, just, and true can expect persecution, slander, and false accounts. The only reward may be a heavenly one.
Some scholars claim we should interpret the beatitudes in terms of their promised final reward. "If you are mourning now, someday you will be comforted." "If you are hungry for justice today, in the future you will be satisfied."
The problem with this interpretation, however, is that Jesus doesn't keep his tenses straight. He mixes present tense with the future tense. "Blessed are the meek," he says in the present tense, "for they shall inherit the earth," in the future tense. "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven," here and now in the present. Is he speaking of now or then? We can't be sure.
Other interpreters say this mixture of future and present indicates the purpose behind these teachings. The beatitudes point us toward God's future, to be sure, but this future is already mixed like leaven in the dough of present-day life. That is, the beatitudes offer not merely a glimpse of God's future, but a vision of how we can live today.
All things considered, that, too, is a good interpretation. You may have noticed that Jesus does not address the beatitudes to anybody in particular. As he teaches on the mountain, he releases his blessings into the air. "Blessed are the meek," whoever they are. "Blessed are the merciful," wherever they may be. "Blessed are the peacemakers," whoever, wherever. If the blessing fits our circumstances, welcome to the kingdom! If it doesn't fit, we can put ourselves in a position to receive the blessing. If we desire a happy life, we must get out into the world and be poor in spirit. If we want to be blessed, we must become peacemakers.
This is a good interpretation of the beatitudes. The problem is it doesn't work like a scientific formula. There is no assurance that anybody who tries to live out the beatitudes will turn out to be happy or blessed.
In the last century, a Belgian priest named Father Damien went to live on a remote island colony among people with leprosy. Father Damien tried to live the values of the beatitudes. He was pure in heart, merciful, hungry and thirsty for righteousness. He was publicly persecuted for doing what he believed was right. His biographers also say he was often lonely, depressed, and stubborn. His immediate superiors branded him a troublemaker.2 Despite failed attempts within the Roman Catholic church to name him as a saint, few people who knew Father Damien called him "happy" or "blessed."
There is no simple assurance that living the beatitudes will make somebody's life a blessed bed of roses. We can claim them as values to teach our children and virtues to pursue in daily life, but they are not stepping stones for success, at least not in this age. As someone said, "Blessed are the meek? Try being meek tomorrow when you go to work and see how far you get. Meekness is fine for church, but in the real world, the meek get to go home early with a pink slip and a pat on the back."3
It is difficult to understand the beatitudes of Jesus. Perhaps this wild, untamed quality is the very source of their power.4 Anybody who learns these words from the Gospel of Matthew may not understand them right away. Whoever takes these teachings seriously may wonder how Jesus can actually say them in such a rough and aggressive world. They do not comfort anxious parents, give quick assurances to politicians, or promise relief for feisty priests. But they do unsettle us. If these blessings by Jesus are truly inscribed upon our hearts, they prompt us to wonder whether or not they are true. Are the poor in spirit blessed by God? Is God revealed to the pure in heart? Will God give the earth as a free inheritance to the meek? We cannot know completely unless we are following Jesus, who epitomized what it means to be meek, pure, and poor in spirit. Does God show mercy to the merciful? Does God claim those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness? We cannot be sure until we have been set free by the death and resurrection of Jesus, who claims us in mercy. When we are sufficiently unsettled by the living word of the living Christ, then the beatitudes can offer their blessing.
A bricklayer from Texas died a few years ago. Many Texans freely admit they are not generally known for their meekness or gentleness. As someone notes, they are a flinty people formed by a dry wind that blows across a hard land. A true Texan is typically full of bluster, not humility. Yet this bricklayer was a follower of Jesus Christ, and his discipleship tempered him into a gentle man. It was most evident in his work.
At the memorial service, his son offered an eloquent testimony of how the father's faith had affected the quality of his daily work. If customers wanted quick and cheap work, this man took his time to do the job well and asked for a fair wage. When inferior brick became available, he refused to take shortcuts in his building materials. He never made a lot of money or received widespread fame, yet he rested in the confidence of a hard day's work done well.
What kind of life does God value? We cannot really know until we follow Jesus Christ to the point that it makes a difference in how we live. God's blessing comes not to those who pursue meekness, but to those who pursue Jesus Christ and welcome God's earth as a holy inheritance. Satisfaction comes not to those who work to make themselves righteous, but to those hungry for God's righteousness, as revealed in the cross of Jesus.
The beatitudes of Jesus announce a realm of values that press us to ask where we belong. Do we belong to a world of persecution, war-making, and death? Or do we belong to a realm of mercy and comfort, purity and righteousness? Daily life can confuse us, until we claim our place among Christ's unfinished saints. As we follow Jesus, the blessing of the Gospel is that we begin to see the realm of God which this world does not yet see.
Frederick Buechner tells about watching a scene in the Ken Burns film series on the Civil War. It was the fiftieth anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg, and veterans from North and South gathered at the battleground to reminisce. At one point, the veterans decided to reenact Pickett's Charge. All the participants took their positions, and then one side began to charge the other. Instead of swords and rifles, this time the vets carried canes and crutches. As both sides converged, the old men did not fight. Instead they embraced and began to weep.
Buechner muses, "If only those doddering old veterans had seen in 1863 what they now saw so clearly fifty years later." Then he adds:
Half a century later, they saw that the great battle had been a great madness. The men who were advancing toward them across the field of Gettysburg were not enemies. They were human beings like themselves, with the same dreams, needs, hopes, the same wives and children waiting for them to come home . . . What they saw was that we were, all of us, created not to do battle with each other but to love each other, and it was not just a truth they saw. For a few minutes, it was a truth they lived. It was a truth they became.5
Where do we belong? When we look out the window, we see a world of division and war. There are debts to pay and dangers that scare us to death. It looks like our children are at risk, and the future seems tenuous.
But now and then, as we follow Jesus, this weary, old world is unmasked as an illusion, and we see beyond a shadow of a doubt that the kingdom of heaven is at hand.
____________
1. As reported by Michael McManus, Scranton Times 24 January 1993.
2. Gavan Daws, Holy Man (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1984), p. 249.
3. William H. Willimon, On a Wild and Windy Mountain (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1984), p, 66.
4. I am indebted to Thomas G. Long for this insight, which comes from a sermon he preached to The Homiletical Feast, Princeton, NJ, 18 January 1993.
5. Frederick Buechner, "Journey Toward Wholeness," Theology Today 49/4 (January 1993), pp. 454-464.
