LIving he Beatitudes

 

 

We’re told that Martin Luther originally had a hard time trying to live up to the demands of the Old Testament—even literally beating himself at times. Finally, he discovered that salvation was realized by grace and faith alone.  Through the lens of that discovery, he began to view the New Testament as “gospel” and the demands of the Hebrew Bible as “law.”  For Luther, it was crucial that Jesus had come to set us free from the “law.”  And he “wrote” this perspective into his translation of the Bible by placing books he didn’t care for at the end.  But Luther wasn’t the first or the last to try to “edit” the Bible.  I think the real problem for us is that what Luther did on paper, we do in fact.  Don’t we simply edit those portions of the Bible from actual use?  I think this especially applies to “laws” with their unrealistic demands.  

Jesus opens the “Sermon on the Mount” with the beatitudes, which while not really instructions for living, are a declaration of the grace that God is pouring out on all people through Jesus Christ. (Matthew5:1-12a) They are a declaration at the heart of Jesus’ message that the kingdom of God is at hand.  If you wonder what the kingdom of God is about, look at the beatitudes.  It means blessing, peace and comfort for those who have been trampled on in our world.  Right from the start of this “sermon,” Jesus makes an elaborate statement about the grace that God gives to all people who will open their hearts to it.  

While the Jewish religious leaders had sought to fulfill God’s demands by specifying the precise actions one could or could not do, Jesus called his disciples to obey God’s “commands” from the heart.  That would mean that while killing is an egregious offense, Understanding the root of and avoiding the anger and hatred that leads us to devalue the life of another, is the mark of a spiritual being. This mindful approach requires us to examine and know behavioral triggers that lead to uncontrolled anger and intercept them before they are acted out. This spiritual transformation leads to a proactive way of living the beatitudes.   

In reality, Jesus didn’t make it easier to obey God’s rules, he made it harder.  He went back to the original intention of the commands--to produce a people who would practice God’s justice, compassion, and mercy toward one another.  And they would do so not for fear of punishment or in order to gain some reward.  They would practice this kind of life because God’s grace had changed their hearts, and they could do no less. In other words, for Jesus, obeying God is not just a matter of what we do, it’s something that comes from the heart. And when we have that kind of relationship that comes from the heart, we can do no less than make every effort to practice the way of life defined in Scripture as “walking in God’s ways.” 

Adapted in part fromThe Waking Dreamer, Alan Brehm, “Light for the World,” February 12, 2014

What do You Think?

 

Jesus uses his parables to engage his audience by relating explicit scenarios that are relevant to its world. They are implicit invitations for them to see something “beneath the literal narrative.” Jesus would sometimes insert a clever device such as a visual element or use a provocative form of speech, which would prompt the imagination to know his meaning beyond any literal interpretation. And so it is in this week’s Gospel (Matthew 22:15-21). Jesus uses the Roman coin to illustrate and memorialize in the mind’s eye of the listener (and for us forever), the answer to his question, “what do you think?”

Over the centuries, this famous passage has framed societal attitudes toward the relationship between religion and government. There are those who believe that Jesus is establishing two separate realms, Caesar's and God's. This interpretation may strike many Americans as obviously correct, given our separation of church and state. Looking at this more closely, Jesus was less concerned with taxation or political authority. These existed in his world but were not of his world.

Let’s face it, we’re told that in the first century Jews paid many taxes:  customs taxes, and taxes on land and of course, tithes to the Temple. Yet, in this parable the question posed to Jesus was not about how many taxes they paid but rather whether it was lawful to pay taxes After all, taxes were paid to Caesar, who as the emperor of Rome and the son of Augustus, was deemed to be the “son of God.” As such, the Jews believed that even possessing the coin with the image of Caesar, was idolatry and in violation of the commandments. 

So back to the question put to Jesus in our Gospel. What do you think?  A “yes or no” answer either way would have gotten Jesus in trouble. "Yes" would have discredited him with those who found the imperial domination system unacceptable. "No" would have made him subject to arrest for sedition.  By avoiding the trap Jesus asks us to recognize that while we may owe the rulers of this world earthly things like taxes, we commit our spiritual beings to God completely. For me, this Gospel and specifically the Roman coin, are the most effective of all Matthew’s devices to illustrate the Kingdom of God. The coin serves to remind us that it, as a single entity, reveals our existence in two dimensions, mortal and spiritual. Not unlike our mind, body and soul, they are separate realms of our human existence that co-eexist in one being  . What do you think? 

I am coming to you now, but I say these things while I am still in the world, so that they may have the full measure of my joy within them. I have given them your word and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world. For they are not of the world any more than I am of the world. My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them...while they are still in the world (John 17.)

We are merely stewards

 

In this parable (Matthew 21:33-46) the Pharisees were indignant at the thought that they might not be considered to be as good as they thought they were. After all, “they were entitled” by birth and dismissed anything that might challenge their place in Jewish society. Don’t do we sometimes think that we are entitled…just because we were born into a certain social strata? Let’s face it, as citizens of this great country it’s easy to take our blessings for granted. We live sometimes as though we have somehow earned these blessings. 

As today’s Gospel reminds us, we are mere temporary resident tenants who have been entrusted as stewards of the Master’s property and are expected to return it better than the way we found it. Like the tenants who leased the land, we are often too busy tending to our own agendas and take our minds off the prize. We forget that the landowner is going to hold us accountable for what we have done with his land. It is not our private club.   

The kingdom of God does not work like a marketplace. That is man’s construct not God’s. What we do in His kingdom does not exist to serve our own agendas but rather it exists to serve something much greater than ourselves. His vineyard has nothing to do with returns on investment or quid pro quo.  We have no idea what that yield is or will be. God’s love like a fertile verdant garden, takes what we have and returns it more beautiful than before.  

In Matthew, Jesus describes the violent way the tenant farmers treated the servants and the landowner’s own son.  He then asks them how they think the landowner will treat the tenant farmer.  Thoroughly entrenched in their world’s ideology of violence and retribution, the Pharisees say that the landowner will bring those retches to a miserable end.  Jesus knows that this is not quite the whole story and tells them, “The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone.”  In other words, God is not about to give up.  No matter what violent acts are perpetuated against Jesus, the Father will see that the rejected stone continues to be the cornerstone. 

The kingdom is not ours.  The kingdom belongs to God.  We who live in the kingdom must reside on God’s terms and not ours.  We are just stewards.  This good news is worth sharing!

 

What's Past is Past

 

In Matthew’s deceptively simple parable (Matthew 21 28-32), Jesus invites his adversaries to look at the future, as one not dominated by the arguments of the past, but one that is open to God’s presence in our lives to restore, and make all things new. 

The chief priests and elders do not accept this invitation. The idea of the "presence of God in the lives of man" is not only foreign, it is blasphemous. Besides, they have too much invested in the past and their beliefs which are defined by their own man-made rules that they have they have assumed the “authority” to enforce. 

They have become dependent on their self-created identities and  refuse to give it up for an unknown future. But those who are “down and out,” and represent the marginalized , e.g., the poor, the tax collectors and prostitutes have no past to define or follow them into the future. They eagerly embrace Jesus’ promise of a new life in God's kingdom. 

Throughout our readings of Matthew these past weeks, Jesus makes this same promise to us. We are forgiven solely because there is a forgiver. We are loved unconditionally; we cannot earn or lose God’s love. No matter what we have done, no matter what may have been done to us, the future is still open. Whatever hurt we may have experienced or done in the past is, ultimately…in the past. We do not have to allow the past to define our future or our identity. We do not have to drag our past around with us and take it out whenever we feel the need to linger in its memory. We are more than the sum total of all that has happened to us. 

The future is open. It may seem almost impossible to let go of the past and walk into the future. After all, the past is a known entity; it’s familiar, whereas the future is open… and can be scary. But if we meditate on and invoke the words of Thomas Merton, we know that we are not alone: l will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me alone. No, you will never leave me alone. (excerpts in part from Partner in Preaching, David Lose, 9/22/14)

 

 

The last will be first, and the first will be last."

 The story from (Matthew 20:1-16) is one that asks us to put on the mind of the poet and think in metaphor. On the surface it defies logic and the world of “fairness” in which we live. But man’s sense of fairness and God’s “justice” are not the same. Can we blame some of the gardeners for feeling that they were duped: “what’s going on here; we worked from dusk to dawn, and these guys arrive just before closing time and they get the same pay?  That’s not fair!” Who could argue with their logic? Think of it—if you tried to run a business on the basis of paying everyone the same rate, regardless of how well and long they worked, your business wouldn’t last very long and you’d have some very disgruntled employees.

Just as God’s forgiveness requires that we turn logic on its head and suspend our belief system of “quid pro quo,” likewise God’s realm of justice and peace defies our sense of fairness. God’s love has nothing to do with logic or fairness. These are all part of a human convention and a world based on rules, laws and logic.  There is nothing we can do to earn God’s love or his kingdom. In this kingdom, everyone receives the generosity of God’s grace, God’s unconditional love and God’s unfailing mercy.

David Steindel-Rast writes that “salvation” is homecoming. When love not power reigns supreme, alienation from ourselves, from all others, and from God is healed. The moment we realize we can never fall out of God’s love, we come to “ourselves” like the wayward son in the parable—to our true self at home in the God Household as a uniquely loved member of the family. And now we become catalysts for salvation of the whole world, its transformation from power and domination to service and love. Salvation—and this needs to be stressed—is not a private matter. (Deeper Than Words, Living the Apostle’s Creed, p56.)

In a very real sense, we are all “eleventh hour workers.”

Be Prepared

 

The kind of waiting Matthew is encouraging (Mathew 25:1-13) is difficult. Waiting for something way overdue or waiting for something you’re not sure will even come is challenging. How about waiting for someone who is the center of your life and not sure when he or she will arrive? It’s irritating and thoughtless if we are left in the dark, although in fairness he or she may not know themselves. In any case, it's unnerving. This special arrival involves preparation but being so distracted, it's hard to concentrate on the tasks at hand. And what about waiting for a return call from a doctor or lab? There is no way to prepare; what’s done is done. We just wait. The anxiety and stress of the “in-between time of waiting" can be difficult. 

This parable reminds us that we are not alone in our waiting. Upon closer look Jesus is speaking of his own “in-between time;” his own time of waiting. The scene is set between Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and his trial and crucifixion. And one thing on which Matthew and the other Gospel writers agree is that Jesus knew what was coming. Yet here he is, still teaching the crowds; debating his opponents, and instructing his disciples…even as he waits for the coming cross. When he gets to the garden we know how difficult waiting was for Jesus, and how all his followers were so “hard to find,” even after he asked them to wait with him.  

Waiting for Jesus’ imminent return is difficult for most of us to conceptualize; yet, Jesus’ presence is with us always. Each time we work for justice, we testify to the presence of Jesus. Each time we help one another, we testify to Jesus’ presence. Each time we stand up for the poor, or reach out to the friendless, we testify to the presence of the Risen Christ.  

We are the Church. We are those who wait for each other. We are those who support each other in times of pain, loss or bereavement. We are those who help each other wait, and prepare, and keep the faith. In all these ways, we encourage each other with the promises of Christ. That’s what it means to be Christ’s followers, then and now. 

Lost and Found

 

 We all know what it’s like to lose something or someone. Perhaps we can remember a time when we felt lost. We all know those associated feelings that border on fear, if not terror. Reading Luke 15:1-32 helps us to remember how we felt when we experienced loss and the joy we felt when we were “reunited” or “found.” 

One of my most memorable experiences with loss goes back to my very early childhood and is indelibly ingrained in my memory. I was not more than five years old and my mother sister and I were on a crowded beach in Coney Island. I suppose I got a little bored sitting on the blanket alone with my mother and sleeping baby sister I remember pestering my mother to let me get some water from the ocean for my pail to bring back to the blanket so I could make some mud pies. Mom resisted my going to the shore alone and did not want to leave my sister sleeping  unattended. I finally convinced her that I could not possibly get lost and would be always aware of where she was. She yielded and so I made my way with my metal pail and shovel in tow, carefully drawing a “tether” line in the sand with my foot. I played at the surfside for a bit, filled my pail and turned to make my way back to the blanket. Of course, the line was obliterated and I immediately panicked because I couldn’t find the line in the sand leading back, and above all, could not see my mother. I remember being overcome with fear and on the verge of tears. A woman standing nearby came to my aid, and assured me that we would find my mother. Mom appeared in seconds. Although seconds must have seemed like an eternity to me. I can still remember what I felt when my mother gathered me up in her arms and held me close, assuring me that I was not lost and that I was always in her sight. I suppose the reason I can still remember this event so vividly is because of the “palpable” effect it had and continues to have even as I write today.   

I relate this childhood experience with the stories Jesus uses in our gospel to describe what it means to lose and to find and to be lost and be found. I wonder what is the more memorable of the two emotions, the fear of being lost or the joy of being found. In both instances Luke depicts the joy in finding what was lost and being found. There was no recrimination just joy.