Sermon on the Mount, Day 4 of 40: Those Who Mourn

Matthew 5: 4
Blessed are those that mourn, for they will be comforted.

Jesus is not speaking of those who mourn the loss of a loved one, although I do believe that God reaches out to them.  But in the context of this sermon I believe Jesus is speaking of those people who  mourn their sins.

People who are poor in spirit have a keen sense of their own sins and are deeply troubled by them. They are said to be "convicted of their sins by the Holy Spirit." In my years as a pastor I have found that one of the biggest obstacles to a person's spiritual life is their past and specifically their past sins.  Many people do not feel worthy to approach God in prayer, take communion, participate in Sunday School, or even read scripture because of their past.

The Holy Spirit convicts us of our sins but then provides us with power and strength to overcome our pasts.  We are made anew.  We are new a creation.  And when we experience this, when we discover that our past no longer weighs us down or defines us, we are comforted.  And we find great joy and peace in this.

With the help of the Holy Spirit, we can begin to live in a different way.  The Holy Spirit leads us in our practice of the spiritual disciplines of prayer, worship, scripture study, sacrifice of our time, talents and resources, fellowship, and service. As a result, we are drawn into an ever deepening, ever evolving relationship with God.

On Monday (skipping Sunday) we will study the meek, who will inherit the earth.

Sermon on the Mount, Day 3 of 40: The Poor in Spirit

Matthew 5: 3
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Who are the poor in spirit?  In Greek there are two words for poor, penes and ptochos.  Penes describes a person who lives and works day to day, barely making ends meet, barely getting by.  Ptochos describes someone who lives in abject poverty, someone who has nothing at all and is forced to beg.  They are utterly helpless.  This is the word used for poor in Matthew 5:3.

Jesus is not calling for material poverty.  Being homeless and without means is never a good thing and Jesus would never have claimed material poverty was good.

The poverty that Jesus says is blessed is the poverty of the spirit.  Poverty of the spirit occurs when  people realize that their own efforts will not result in their salvation.  The poor in spirit are blessed because, realizing how helpless they are, they have recognized their need for God and have put their trust in God.   The true spiritual life begins at this point.

After seeing a vision of the glory of God on the throne, the prophet Isaiah cried out, "Woe is me, I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts."  (Isaiah 6:5)

This is the realization of all who are poor in spirit.  Only when we are able to see who we truly are,
are we able to confess our sins  and live in the light of the Spirit.  The Kingdom of Heaven belongs only to these "enlightened" people.

Jesus illustrated this in his parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector (Luke 18: 9-14).  "The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, "God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week, I give a tenth of all my income." But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, "God be merciful to me, a sinner!"

Jesus continued, " I tell you, this man [the tax collector] went down to his home justified rather than the other [the Pharisee]; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted."

Tomorrow we study those who mourn.

Sermon on the Mount, Day 2 of 40: Blessed

All of the eight beatitudes are expressed in the same form,  "blessed are..." The Greek word for blessed or happy is makarios, used to describe something that is almost indescribable; something that is untouchable and unaffected by the world; something that is self-contained; a kind of deep peace we may experience in a crisis even though we are suffering or shedding tears.

Blessed describes a present state of existence, the here and now; not a future state.  So, Jesus is saying to the crowds and to his disciples, "Through me, this is the way you can live now."  Not in the future, not just in the afterlife, but you can live this way now.  The beatitudes are not glimpses of some distant future existence.

Followers of Christ are the center of an untouchable peace and joy in the middle of chaos; a peace that comes from a daily walk with Christ.

A few years ago, I flew to Washington, D. C. for a conference.  As the plane approached Washington, the pilot informed us that a storm would delay our landing and, in the meantime, we would circle the airport until we were allowed to land.  

I could see that we were not the only plane in this predicament.  Behind us and in front of us were other planes, flying in one long circle over Reagan National Airport.  As we flew around and around, people began to curse under their breath and I heard a woman across the isle crying.  The pilot would occasionally announce that there was no change in the weather down below and we would continue to circle, which darkened the mood on the plane each time he made this announcement.

After we circled the airport for about an hour, the pilot cheerily announced that we were turning around and flying back to Charlotte, N. C. because we were nearly out of fuel.  The result of this bit of news caused a new, more energetic round of cursing and wailing and gnashing of teeth; as if the pilot and his crew were responsible for the weather.

After we landed in Charlotte and rolled to a stop, everyone jumped out of their seat at once in a race to grab their carry on bags, jostling one another to be the first off the plane.  But, more bad news awaited us at the baggage claim.  We were informed, after waiting for 30 minutes, that our luggage had successfully landed in Washington D. C. on a flight ahead of us.

Once this news spread, total chaos erupted.  People were cursing loudly, yelling at no one in particular or yelling directly at someone; people were running with their arms waiving wildly, eyes rolling, faces contorted.  There was a great deal of pushing and shoving; disrespect for other people was the rule.

But there was one exception; an island of peace in this sea of chaos.  A father had gathered his wife and two children together in a circle in the middle of this madness.  As I stood close by, I heard him say, “Let’s hold hands and pray.  Let’s thank God that we landed safely and that we have each other.  Let’s thank God for being with us on this flight and with us in this airport.”  And they stood together and prayed, as people all about them cursed and swirled in their anger and their confusion; an example of humility and respect in a crowd that had neither; a reflection of God’s love and peace in a world gone mad.

Blessed are those whose peace is of Christ and not of the world.

Tomorrow we study the poor in spirit.

The Sermon on the Mount, Day 1 of 40: Introduction

For Christians, the season of Lent is a time of sacrifice, honoring Christ's sacrifice for us, and remembering his time in the wilderness where he suffered thirst, hunger and temptation.  It is a time for reflection and self-examination; a time to ask ourselves if we have been living in the way that Christ taught and modeled.

During this Lenten season, I will be studying and writing each day about Christ's teachings as revealed in his Sermon on the Mount in the Gospel of Matthew, chapters 5-7.

So, let's get started.

The Sermon on the Mount is the most lengthy teaching of Jesus found in the gospels and is also one of the most widely quoted.  In it are found the major principles of Christian discipleship.

The exact site of this sermon is unknown. But for 1600 years, a site, now called the Mount of the Beatitudes (also known as Mt. Eremos) on the northwestern shore of the Sea of Galilee, has been seen as the place where Jesus spoke these words.

Many scholars believe that the Sermon on the Mount is not one sermon but is actually a summary of Christ's teachings, compiled and condensed into one sermon.  Regardless, I have no doubt that Jesus did deliver sermons such as this on mountains, on plains, by the oceans and the seas; to one person, to twelve people and to multitudes.

It appears that the location of the sermon was not planned.  Matthew states that "when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down.  His disciples came to him and he began to teach."  So, he was either fleeing the crowd or he went to a place that would accommodate the crowd.  I believe verse 28 in chapter 7 indicates the latter, since it states that the crowds were amazed at his teaching.  This also tells us that his teaching was meant to be heard not just by his disciples but for the crowds that attended.

The Sermon on the Mount, then, is a sermon not solely for a select group of spiritual insiders, but it is also a sermon for you and me.

Tomorrow, we begin our study of the beatitudes.

The Hope of Christmas

I love the Christmas story.  It is a story about two ordinary people who are caught up in a most extraordinary, cosmic event that will change the world forever.

A young girl, who has never been intimate with a man who chooses to be intimate with God.  "Let it be so," she told the angel, Gabriel.

A man, who discovers that his fiancé is pregnant and chooses (against all custom) to continue to love her and to love the child that she will bear.

It is a story about a hard journey to a distant city where relatives reside; of registering for the census; of being counted as taxpayers for the Roman tax.

It is a story about God's love for humanity entering the world in the form of a human child; a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and held close in his mothers arms; a baby born in a manger, the long awaited Messiah, surrounded by farm animals.

It is a story about God first revealing the incarnation through angels joyfully singing to shepherds; lowly keepers of sheep; servants of the fields, who leave their flocks and enter the manger to behold the godchild.

It is a story of prophecies foretold, divine promises kept; it is a story of faith and of acting on that faith; it is a story of God's intervention in the course of human events.

Whenever I think that this world is spiraling out of control, that there is no hope left, I remember the Christmas story, when love and hope were born in an ordinary way, in an ordinary place, to ordinary people.  And I have comfort.  And I have joy.

The Last Day

I do not know the last time I ran without pain.  I wish I could remember.  I wish I could think back to that day and remember what it was like.  Was it a sunny day or a rainy day.  I used to love to run in the rain, even on the cold days.  And on the cloudless days filled with sunlight I would be filled with energy and felt as if I could run forever.

But then came that day; the day that I do not remember; when running was no longer about making the distance in a decent time; but about overcoming the pain in one joint or another.

If only I could remember that day, that last day that I ran without pain; that last day that I could float uphill without a thought; that last day that I felt I could run forever. If I could remember it I would think of it often and replay it in my head over and over again.  But I cannot remember it.  I just know that there was such a day.

What would life be like if we had a sense of the ending of things?  If we had a keen awareness of the last day; the last day that things would be the same; the  last day that we had to spend with a person we loved; the last chance that we had to say I love you?

When I arrived at our home in Rocky Mount, N.C. prior to my father's death, I could already sense that something irrevocable had occurred.  Something had changed that could never be changed back. The house in which I had grown up was never to be the same.  Dad's last day came two weeks later, but was still a surprise, and I was still unprepared.  It was the finality of it all; knowing that I would never see him again; that he would never again walk down the hallways of my childhood home.

In the 19th century when people left the eastern United States to travel west to Oregon or California seeking their fortune, they left behind people they loved.  And there was the very good likelihood that they would never see them again.

What must it have been like for them to ride away knowing that?  What must it have been like for the people who were left behind, to know that their son or their daughter was leaving, never to be seen by them again?

What would it be like for us to treat each absence away from a loved one as the last time we would ever see them.  Would we ever again leave each other angry?  Would we ever again storm away?

Marcus Aurelius, a Roman Emperor, has been credited with saying, "Perfection of character is this: to live each day as if it were your last, without frenzy, without apathy, without pretense."

The lesson we learn in living is that life is fleeting and impermanent and many of its changes can be painful.  The challenge of life is to rise above this pain and to live fully in each moment.

Remembering the Past

This time of year the air sometimes takes on a certain smell that takes me back to high school and football; or camping trips and sleeping in pine forests; or cooking out over an open fire.

Sometimes a song will remind me of a certain time and a certain person.  For instance, the song "Be Young, Be Foolish, Be Happy" by the Tams was the first song that Melanie and I heard after our wedding and it always reminds me of our honeymoon and of long ago when we were young and foolish and happy.

I can hear theme songs of TV shows that I used to watch and be carried back to those simpler times.  The theme from "Leave It To Beaver" is playing in my head as I write this.

The theme song to "The Lone Ranger"(which is really the William Tell Overture by Rossini) always reminds me of my father.  As a child, when I heard the hearty "Hi Ho Silver!" I would climb into my father's lap and we would watch Clayton Moore and Jay Silverhills tame the wild west.

What I remember more than that TV show is feeling the warmth of my father as he held me; the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed; the veins bulging in his hands and the hair on his arms.  Most of all, I remember feeling loved.

But the past is not always pleasant to remember.  The very same thing that causes me to remember the love of my father may cause another person to remember a time of great pain.

Michael Meeropol remembers the "Lone Ranger" in this context:  One summer day, July 17, 1950 to be exact, while his father, Julius Rosenburg, was shaving in the bathroom in the back, Michael was listening to the Lone Ranger on the radio.  Suddenly the door burst open and his father was taken away by the FBI.  A month later his mother, Ethel was arrested.  

Both Ethel and Julius were accused and convicted of being spies for the Soviet Union.  They were  executed on June 19, 1953.  Michael and his brother, Robert, were placed in an orphanage after their family members shunned them. Several years later they were adopted by the Meeropol family.

Remembering the "Lone Ranger" has to be very painful for Michael Meeropol; a time of great fear and chaos.

I know a person whose military experience was not at all pleasant and he never likes to remember it.  He dislikes being recognized and made to stand in public, especially in church, where he goes to find peace and to feel the presence of God.   So, on the military holidays, he does not go to church.  He finds his peace at home.

The past is a funny thing.