Category: Kingdom of God

As an associate pastor, I usually preach at my church only about 4 or 5 times a year. This Sunday was one of those days. I always take preaching seriously, but after the world events of this past week, I felt the weight of the task of preaching even more than usual. What do you say at a time like this? Was I even the right voice to be speaking at such a moment? I confessed to the congregation that I experienced many moments of self doubt this week. Maybe on a day like today the church needed to hear with someone with more experience as a preacher, someone more polished. Perhaps they needed to hear from someone older, someone wiser, someone who was less emotionally raw right now. 

But when I quieted these voices of doubt, I realized, of course, there was no one else for this task. There are other, better, more-experienced preachers than me in the world, but none of these preachers had been called to preach at this place in this moment in time. For better or for worse, this was my work to do today. 

So I made a deal with the congregation. I would push through my doubts and insecurities, and do the work God had called me to do this week, if they would also do theirs. I don’t know what their work is this week, maybe there is a conversation they need to have, a phone call to make, a gift to give,  a neighbor to serve, or a stranger to reach out to. But I know everyone has something they know is the next right thing for them to do, but they haven’t it yet done. They are afraid it will be awkward, or they’ll do it imperfectly. They are afraid someone else has already done it better or it won’t make a difference anyway. And it’s likely that some of that will be true, awkwardly and imperfectly is about the only way I know how to do anything, but we need to do those things anyways. So I said “I’ll do my work, if you’ll do yours.” And they agreed. So I did. 

And my work  was to read, sit with, and preach this week’s Lectionary Gospel passage: Matthew, Chapter 5:1-12. 

Matthew was not the first of the four Gospels to be written, but it is the first by arrangement in our New Testament. Meaning, that if you had never read the Bible before, and decided to open up the New Testament to the first page and start reading, your first introduction to the life of Christ would be Matthew’s account. But I don’t want to start in Chapter 5, I want to start at the beginning, because context ALWAYS matters.

The setting of the Gospel of Matthew is a little over 2000 years ago in Roman-occupied Palestine. Once again, the Jewish people have found themselves subjects of foreign rule,  echoing the conquests and exiles their ancestors experienced before them. In those days, the Roman Empire was prosperous both economically and militarily, and for sure some of the Jewish people were faring well under the Roman Regime. There were those who had been able to maneuver their way into positions of relative power, becoming local rulers that let the province of Judea operate somewhat autonomously as long as the Emperor was happy. There were those who had accepted jobs as tax collectors, securing the payments Rome demanded, plus extra for themselves. There were wealthy landowners, who were becoming wealthier by the day as they scooped up small bits of land that their fellow Jews had to forfeit when they couldn’t pay Caesar what was owed.

But for many, the injustice of living in occupied territory was compounded by daily economic burdens and insecurities. And like all oppressed and disadvantaged groups, different factions reacted to the political and economic reality in different ways. Some, like the Zealots, rose up in violent revolutions, while others, like the Sadducees took a more pragmatic and compromising approach. The Pharisees chose a path of religious puritanism, while the Essenes opted out altogether, taking a monastic, counter-cultural approach. But regardless of the method, nearly everyone was looking for answers, for a solution, for a savior.

It’s in that atmosphere that the Gospel of Matthew begins, and it seems clear from the start that Matthew is setting us up to expect great things from this man Jesus. If the people are looking for a savior to right the wrongs of their age, then maybe this is the hero they’ve been waiting for.

Chapter 1 admittedly gets off to a slow start, with a less-than-exciting, but quite impressive, genealogy for Jesus. It’s a Royal lineage that includes some of the most important people from Jewish history: the Patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the great Kings David and Solomon, and the strong brave women of Tamar, Ruth, Queen Bathsheba and his mother Mary. Someone from this line should do well, and our expectations rise.

But now Matthew’s account really begins to unfold. Following the genealogy is the pronouncement of Jesus’ birth, by no less than an angel. The stars themselves announce Jesus arrive, which brings the young family a visit from the Magi, who bring expensive gifts and pay homage to the newborn king. Chapter 2 continues the action with a divinely inspired dream that leads to a dramatic flight to Egypt by the holy family to escape the wrath of the local ruling king, Herod.

After a few years, Joseph and Mary move their family again to Nazareth, a rural town in the district of Galilee, but Matthew skips over this presumably quiet period of Jesus’ life. Instead, the story picks up his story again with Jesus as a young adult, being baptized by the eccentric, locust-eating prophet, John, marking the official beginning of Jesus’ public life. And if you were still having doubts that this is the Chosen One, Matthew writes that as Jesus comes out of the water, the heavens open up, the Spirit of God descends like a dove, and a voice booms from Heaven declaring “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” It’s hardly subtle.

And so it would seem that Jesus is poised for greatness after his dramatic rise. He’s been marked as a king from before his birth. And he seems to be charismatic, drawing curious crowds with minimal effort, who are waiting to see what path he will take. Will he lead an armed rebellion or set his sights on becoming a powerful political insider? Will he preach the importance of religious purity or the necessity of complete separation from secular society? Jesus appears to be just a few short steps away turn this buzzing energy into a movement: gathering the right supporters, securing the right backers, crafting a resonating message. The stage is nearly set for a divinely appointed leader to right the wrongs against the people of God.

But even for messiahs, the path forward is never a red carpet. It is always a crossroads. There are always decisions to be made. No one escapes the small, daily choices that form the moral arch of our lives. Not even the Son of God.

In Chapter 4 of Matthew, Jesus finds himself alone in wilderness with decisions to make.  He’s offered unlimited power and unthrottled ambition. A path to a life of unending and untroubled comfort is laid out for him.  They are good offers. A person in that position could not only liberate an oppressed people, they could topple an empire. If anyone could appropriately handle the endless ethical gray areas that such a life would bring, surely it would be the divinely appointed descendant of Kings and Patriarchs.

But Jesus says no to this deal with the devil.  And suddenly, after four chapters of dramatic setup, Matthew’s unfolding account of the life of Jesus’ life no longer seems to be following the traditional hero’s arch. At the point in the narrative where Jesus should be gathering a following of the strong and powerful, Jesus begins to gather a group of outsiders, blue-collar workers (actually, NO collar, no SHIRT kind of workers). When he should be scheduling dinner meetings to secure rich donors, he instead spends his time in the homes of the quarantined and the contagious, and in the makeshift shelters of the run-out-of-town.

The crowds are still there. But they are starting to get confused. Where there should be a clear message about how it’s time for the Jewish people to reclaim the land that is rightfully theirs, instead Jesus is talking about repenting, a Kingdom of Heaven, and fuzzy metaphors (they hope they’re metaphors) about being fishers of men.

Perhaps these ideas were *just* intriguing enough to an oppressed and miserable people. Perhaps they were just enjoying the distraction from daily life. Maybe it was the rumors that the sick and suffering people Jesus was spending time with were actually being healed.  Whatever it was, despite the obvious missteps away from the well-traveled path, people continued to gather around Jesus, asking to hear more.

And so in Chapter 5 of the Gospel of Matthew, we find the first full sermon from Jesus that we have in our Bible. It’s often called the Sermon on the Mount, named after its physical location, and our scripture passage for today is the beginning of it–Nine blessings often called the Beatitudes:

 ³ “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

⁴ “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

⁵ “Blessed are the gentle, for they shall inherit the earth.

⁶ “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

⁷ “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

⁸ “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

⁹ “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.

¹⁰ “Blessed are those who have been persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

¹¹ “Blessed are you when people insult you and persecute you, and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of Me. ¹² Rejoice and be glad, for your reward in heaven is great; for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

These are hardly the opening lines of a sermon that galvanizes a loud and conspicuous movement. These words aren’t particularly stimulating or really even that encouraging. They aren’t nostalgic for a better past or a strong warning about a dark future. And if these are calls to action, Jesus has really missed the mark. No one is going to set out to mourn, or be poor in spirit, or to be insulted or persecuted.

But these nine blessings are not goals, they are not prescriptions, they are DESCRIPTIONS. They are adjectives that describe the lives of people who follow a loving and holy God. They are moments in time that everyone who truly lives in the way of Jesus will experience.

In the Godly Play lesson about the Beatitudes, the story describes these nine statements, as the “ordinary but remarkable things people do that bless everyone.” Ordinary but remarkable things.

And through that lens we suddenly see the opening scenes in Matthew’s Gospel in an entirely new way. We flash back to see that this is not just the tale of one extraordinary life destined for greatness, though it IS that. But now we see that Matthew’s story is also about the ordinary lives of MANY God-seekers and God followers who made difficult choices with remarkable integrity, faith, courage, and love.

It’s the story of a young working-class couple, living lives far removed from the kings and patriarchs in their family tree, saying yes to a risky, life-altering call from God. It’s the story of a group of astrologers, taking a long, uncomfortable  journey, crossing religious and political boundaries, to bring gifts to a new king that they couldn’t be certain even really existed. It’s the story of a frightened family, leaving behind everything they’ve known, taking on lives as refugees in a foreign land in hopes of saving the life of their son. It’s the story of two cousins, each peculiar and charismatic in his own way, coming together at the water’s edge to declare the radical message of repentance and of an Upside Down Kingdom.  It’s the story of a young prophet, alone in the wilderness, facing, and rejecting, extraordinary but familiar temptations.

Matthew’s been telling a different kind of story all along. It IS the story of a Messiah, on a journey to bring justice, and peace, and liberation. But it is also the story of an incarnate God-become-flesh who shows us that although there are times that call for extraordinary actions, the Kingdom of Heaven cannot be brought by a military revolution or a political takeover. Jesus shows us that grace and peace are given by God, not governments, and that no wall can keep them out.

We misunderstand the Beatitudes when we add them to our To Do lists. The message of these blessings is that if you are seeking God, then you do not need to ALSO seek the experiences Jesus described. For better or for worse, they will find you. If you are daily choosing to say yes to God at work in your life, then these descriptions should sound familiar. If your response to the Christ’s call to participate in redemptive love is to say, “I don’t totally understand it, but I know I want to be a part of it,” then you will find snapshots of your life in these words.

You will know that you are living an extraordinary life of love, when you find yourself facing the common experience of mourning, because no one who has loved deeply can avoid grief in a broken world. And to grieve well, in a world that is uncomfortable with such a daring act of vulnerability and honesty, is a blessing to everyone.

You will know that you are living a life of mercy, when you find yourself moved with compassion and humbly seeking justice for all people. You will know you are truly imitating Christ, when you find yourself engaged in the ordinary, remarkable acts of peacemaking in a world that would rather you be satisfied with keeping the peace.

There’s no need to go searching for persecution, or insults, or personal attacks. If you are living a life of grace, then those who are threatened by the equality and radical inclusion of God’s love will call you a loser, label you unintelligent, and dismiss you as unimportant.

Not only do the Beatitudes boldly acknowledge that the life of anyone who follows Jesus will be marked with ordinary ups and downs, by both accomplishments and injustices. They also share the extraordinary message of Jesus that in ALL of it, the living of your ordinary life, that you are blessed by God.

God’s Kingdom is always open to you, no matter your gender, sexual orientation, race, or country of origin. God’s grace means the world CAN be changed by ordinary people who just relentlessly do the next right thing. That is good news indeed. And as I’m sure the author of Matthew’s Gospel would agree, it’s a story worth telling.