Showing posts with label #compassion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #compassion. Show all posts

Sunday, January 29, 2023

Blessed Instructions

January 29, 2023
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Micah 6:3-4, 6-8; Matthew 5:1-12[1]

I’ve heard it said that the Bible is instructions for life. Now, I don’t believe that the Bible is as simple as a list of do this, don’t do that, eat this, don’t eat that. There is quite a lot more going on in there. But there are some simple instructions to be found in the Bible. Love God, love your neighbor. Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with God. Maybe Jesus was, at least in part, trying to give us some guidance for life.

Jesus has been baptized, overcome temptation in the wilderness, and called his first disciples. He is already famous for teaching and healing. The crowds have gathered to hear what he has to say. And he begins with “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (5:3). What is he trying to tell us? That it is a good thing to be poor in spirit? What if I am rich in spirit? What if I’m doing just fine?

He goes on. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (5:4). Well, that’s nice. Widows and orphans deserve to be blessed, what with all they’ve been through. Then things get a little strange. “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” (5:5). Well that just doesn’t make any sense, now, does it? The bold and the strong, they’re the ones who will inherit the earth, obviously. You can’t get ahead in this world if you’re meek. You have to take what’s yours, and if you have to take it from someone weaker than you, too bad for them.

“Blessed are the peacemakers…” (5:9). There is a scene in Monty Python’s Life of Brian (1979) in which people at the back of the crowd are too busy talking to hear what Jesus is saying. “I think he said, ‘Blessed are the cheese-makers.’”

In our culture, if you’re peaceful, you’re likely to be seen as unpatriotic, or un-American. If you are merciful, you’re soft on crime. If you’re meek, you’re asking for someone to push you around. In our culture, competition, power, and fear are the driving forces. Even if you think the Beatitudes are a nice idea, it is all too easy to see them as sentiment and not a practical guide for living.

But Jesus wasn’t just saying how nice it would be if people were more kind. He wasn’t saying that we should just get used to how things are, put up with oppression and injustice, and wait for the kingdom of heaven. Jesus was giving instructions, saying that we should live this way. Jesus was saying that we should be meek, humble, merciful, peaceful, and that we should desire to live in right relationship with God. And Jesus wasn’t just talking to the disciples; he was taking to the crowd, and by extension, to us.

What if we looked at the Beatitudes as a whole, with one thing leading to the next? What if we took these blessings seriously, and not just metaphorically? Can we try to understand the Beatitudes as a guide for living, a set of principles which are an alternative to the way we usually view the world through the lens of our competitive consumer culture? A theology professor named Charles Cook[2] suggests that there are three principles for living that can be found in the Beatitudes: simplicity, hopefulness, and compassion.

If we read the words as they are, and not try to layer meaning on them, they point to a way of life in which simplicity is valued. Those who are meek are humble. If you are humble, you are open to the idea that you don’t know everything. You are open to the idea that God has not yet revealed everything, and there is yet more light and truth to be found. The humble ones know that they are only a part of the bigger picture. It takes humility to understand that we don’t own this world; it was given into our care by God. In caring for the earth, we care for that which belongs to God.

In a world filled with things that can cause us to fear, we need courage. If we hear what Jesus has to say, if we live our lives with humility, peacefulness, and mercy, we will be blessed with courage. In caring for others, we find that we have strength. If we live within our means, rather than grasping for more and more, we find that we have been blessed with abundance, with all that we need to live and more. The way of simplicity can free us from our culture of greed.

Do you have hope that things will get better? Many people no longer believe that. As the gap between rich and poor grows wider, as the divide between those on the left and right grows deeper, hope for the future seems to be getting lost, and is replaced by cynicism. The mantra of cynicism is “That’s just the way it is, get over it.” That way of thinking takes these words of Jesus, “For you always have the poor with you” (26:11), and turns them into a pronouncement rather than a call to always recognize and care for those among us who are poor.

Who are the poor in spirit? In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus phrases the line a little differently, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God” (6:20). When you have next to nothing, faith in God can be the most important thing in your life. But poor in spirit can also mean those whose spirits are broken. If you lived in Roman occupied Galilee in the first century, your spirit as a nation had been broken. You were, as a people, oppressed, downtrodden, and brokenhearted. Yet, you are still God’s chosen people. Remember that, and it can give you hope. Jesus echoed the promise of Isaiah: God sent him “to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted (Isaiah 61:1).

Hopefulness is the second principle of living into the Beatitudes. Christ offers hope to the hopeless. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled” (5:6). The day will come when right will win out over wrong. When we live in hopefulness, we know that mercy, humility, peace, and love will one day be the norm rather than the exception. When we face the world with hope, we know that it is darkest just before the dawn, and that the dawn will come. Because we live in Christ, we know that even though the road ahead leads to the crucifixion, it will also lead to the resurrection.

Hopefulness is what empowers us to believe that God’s kingdom is coming, and righteousness will claim the victory. “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (5:10). These words inspire the kind of hope that moved the Pilgrims to set out for a new world, even though some would not live to see it. This hope caused the revolutionaries to set a course for independence, even though it would cost the colonies dearly in blood and treasure. This spirit of hopefulness allowed the abolitionists to keep fighting to end slavery against those who would use the same Bible to keep the Africans in bondage. Hopefulness and faith in the kingdom of heaven empowered women to demand the right to vote, the descendants of slaves to demand an end to discrimination, and gay and lesbian people to demand the right to marry the ones they love.

The most powerful principle found in the Beatitudes, the key to walking in the steps of Jesus, is compassion. Compassion is much more than pity. To pity another means that you feel sorry for them. Compassion is more than sympathy. To be sympathetic means that you share the feelings of another. To have compassion means more. It means that what hurts you hurts me. Compassion means that when you mourn, I mourn with you, and thus you may be comforted. We are in this together. You share my humanity. You are part of my family.

Compassion is the principle that led Jesus to break so many of the Laws of Moses. Compassion led Jesus to heal the man with the withered hand on the sabbath (12:10). Compassion led Jesus to touch the leper and heal him (8:2-3). Compassion led Jesus to perform miracles, such as feeding the five-thousand (14:14-21). Compassion gives us a hunger for justice and a thirst for righteousness. With compassion we can be merciful, we can seek peace, we can see the other as an extension of ourselves. With compassion we can love our neighbor as ourselves.

Compassion is the principle that is motivated by love. It was love that gave us Jesus: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son” (John 3:16). It was love that carried Jesus to the cross. It is compassion and love that can give us the power to endure persecution for the sake of Christ. “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, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you” (5:11-12).

When we follow these blessed instructions, when we allow simplicity, hopefulness, and compassion to guide our lives, we will be able to bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things” (1 Cor. 13:7). When we live in love, we know that the kingdom of heaven is near.  Amen.



[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Charles James Cook, "Pastoral Perspective on Matthew 5:1-12" in David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, General Editors, Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year A, Volume 1 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 308-312. Cook is Professor Emeritus of Pastoral Theology, Seminary of the Southwest, Austin, Texas.

Sunday, February 20, 2022

Have Mercy

February 20, 2022
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 6:27-38[1]

The Golden Rule is a pretty easy rule to follow. It just makes sense: Do to others as you would have them do to you. Show respect, be kind, smile. We can all do that. Jesus knows that. It’s when we’re responding to what someone else has done to us that it breaks down.

How can you love someone who doesn’t love you? How can you do good when someone has done you wrong? Would you lend to someone who is ungrateful? Can you be compassionate if the other person is wicked? We are much more likely to react to how we’re treated than respond with kindness. But Jesus asks us to be merciful.

Mercy is a gift. It can’t be demanded; it can’t be earned. If you have to earn it, it’s not mercy. If you have to pay back a kindness, it’s not mercy. In fact, mercy means compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one’s power to punish or harm. What was earned was punishment, yet what was given was forgiveness. That’s mercy.

Mercy is not the opposite of justice. Mercy recognizes that justice is not met when further injustice is done. Mercy is the understanding that punishment won’t undo the harm, won’t bring back the lost, won’t repair the damage done. Mercy shows that sometimes wrongs can be made right with generosity and love rather than retribution. Mercy is much harder to give than punishment. Compassion is much harder to show than anger.

To live a faithful life is to journey in faith, toward faith. On our journey of faith, not everything will be worked out in this life. Faith is knowing that there will be justice, and it doesn’t always have to come from us. This is not an easy way to live.

Rationally, we can make sense of the words of Jesus, rejecting reciprocity. Emotional, irrational people, many of us are more transactional in our relationships. We treat others the way that we are treated. We react to the way we are spoken to, and respond by meeting the emotional level of the other. Our history with another person affects how we feel, and if we’re used to defending ourselves, our defenses are always up. To respond without reacting, to seek reconciliation rather than reciprocity requires a deliberate reorientation of our thoughts and actions.

Of course, that is what Jesus does, changing our hearts and minds. This passage may be the most challenging message that Jesus brings. From beings who fight fire with fire, we are to become beings who fight fire with water, who respond to anger with compassion. This is hard. It takes real effort grounded in faith to stay calm in the storm. And this is why following Jesus means taking up our cross. The cross that most of us carry isn’t suffering and persecution; rather, it is doing the hard thing, the necessary thing to show love, peace, and mercy.

In a commentary on this passage, the Rev. Dr. Cheryl Lindsay writes:[2]

Mercy is essential to the character and nature of the Living God. God’s mercy is dependable, available, and abundant. Jesus embodied mercy in the same way that his physical being took on flesh. His life manifested mercy, and following The Way compels us to manifest mercy as well. Jesus’ message paints a vivid picture of a merciful life.

When asked by the Pharisees and scribes “‘Why do you eat and drink with tax-collectors and sinners?” Jesus answered, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance.”[3] Jesus came to seek out those who need a merciful God.

Most of us have probably internalized the idea that sinners deserve to be punished for their sins. God is seen as the divine judge, a God to be feared. But isn’t God also the source of love? Yes, those who have turned away from God, those who sin, deserve what’s coming to them. That is perhaps why God’s mercy is so transformative. Rather than rain down destruction, God continues to love, to have compassion, and to show mercy to those who have fallen away. Our divine Parent continues to seek for us when we’re lost, to keep the door open to us should we return home. What is asked of us is to love in that same way, to be merciful as God is merciful.

It is wise for us to remember that none of us is perfect. As Paul wrote in the letter to the Romans, “There is no one who is righteous, not even one… all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”[4] The promise of mercy is the gift that allows us to be reconciled to God. As Dr. Lindsay writes: “We can be hurt and wounded…and overcome the harm. We can be betrayed and be broken…and made whole. We can be thrown away and left for dead in a pit…but we can be elevated to heights we didn’t even seek.”[5]

We have been shown mercy. So let us show mercy. We are called to be merciful to our neighbors and even our enemies. We are called to forgive and not to judge, to give and not to condemn. It is in showing mercy that we receive mercy. It is in giving love and compassion that we receive love and compassion. “The measure you give will be the measure you get back.”[6] Therefore, have mercy.  Amen.



[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] The Rev. Dr. Cheryl A. Lindsay, reflection on Luke 6:27-38 for Sunday, February 20, 2022 on https://www.ucc.org/sermon-seeds/sermon-seeds-merciful/.

[3] Luke 5:30-32.

[4] Romans 3:10, 23.

[5] Lindsay.

[6] Luke 6:38.

Sunday, July 11, 2021

Banquets of Empire

July 11, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Mark 6:6, 14-29[1]

What an awful story! Why this one? This tale of the beheading of John the Baptist offers several things for us to think about. First, this story is a bit of foreshadowing. Just as John preached a different way of living, was arrested, and then executed; Jesus also preached a different way of living, and will ultimately be arrested and executed as well. In a way, Mark is preparing the reader for what is to come.

This passage also foreshadows the answers that the disciples will give when Jesus asks them “Who do people say that I am?”[2] They answer: John the Baptizer, Elijah, or one of the ancient prophets. King Herod concludes that it must be that “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.”[3] When Peter answers, later in Mark’s gospel, he declares “You are the Messiah.”[4]

Second, this story illustrates a contrast between the ways of wealth and power, in that time and in ours, and the alternative way of Jesus. As the Rev. Michael Anthony Howard wrote in a reflection on this text, “Where the banquets of empire are feasts of fear, scarcity, and death, the followers of Jesus partake in the feast [of] love, abundance, and life!”[5]

This story has a convoluted beginning. Essentially, King Herod had married his brother’s wife, Herodias. John pointed out to Herod that this was not lawful, according to Leviticus 20:21. John, being a prophet, probably said this in a public setting, embarrassing Herod and Herodias. This causes Herodias to want to kill him, but Herod doesn’t because he was a public figure known as a holy man, and because “he liked to listen to him.”[6] So, Herod only had him arrested.

This brings us up to the banquet, a lavish birthday celebration for King Herod, with all the most important, wealthy, and powerful people attending. A bit of background might be helpful here.

The ruling class of Judea held power because of their submission to Roman rule. Roman power, exerted through the threat of violence, pervaded every aspect of society. The local elites curried favor from Rome through an extensive building campaign begun under Herod the Great. After his death, Herod Antipas, the King Herod in this story, funded a massive twenty-year, empire-city-building tribute to Rome.[7] Through taxes, forced labor, and the ever-present threat of violence, Herod held more power than any besides the Roman officials themselves.

At the same time, Herod’s position was weak. At any moment, Rome’s displeasure with him could find Herod replaced. The courtiers, officers, and leaders of Galilee knew this. They may have shown public deference to the king, but each would be watching for their chance to knock him down and take his place. Herod also seems easily manipulated by his wife, Herodias, who keeps her eyes open for any opportunity. He had reason to fear rebellion, too, which was one reason he had not executed John.

Into the midst of the banquet dances the child of Herod and Herodias. “She pleased Herod and his guests,”[8] and, in a soft-hearted gesture, Herod promises to give her anything she might ask for. He even, foolishly, swears to give her even half of his kingdom. When the girl consults her mother, Herodias sees her moment to strike. The child, in front of a room of powerful, greedy men, asks for “the head of John the Baptist on a platter.”[9]

The king is stuck. He has made a bold promise in front of these powerful people who will use any misstep against him. He must fulfill his daughter’s wish, or be seen as weak. He gives the order, out of his own fear of losing power, or losing face in front of the powerful, and the violence of the state is unleashed.

This scene is, unfortunately, not unusual. It was, and is, common for the powerful to fear the loss of power, and to feel the need to show others just how powerful they are. Those who rule through violence find reasons to use that violence; and it is those who try to hold power to account, the prophets, the oppressed, the innocent, the poor, women, and children who are most often on the receiving end of that violence.

This is the world into which Jesus walks, bringing a very different message, and a different kind of banquet. When people gather around Jesus, there is healing, learning, compassion. The people who gather to eat with Jesus, it’s not the wealthy and powerful but sinners, some fishermen, and crowds of ordinary folk. The women around Jesus are not there to serve and entertain, but to be equal partners in bringing the realm of God to life. As the author Rachel Held Evans once wrote, “The church is God saying, ‘I’m throwing a banquet, and all these mismatched, messed up people are invited. Here, have some wine.”[10]

When Jesus held a banquet, it wasn’t the local elites who gathered to dine. “As he sat at dinner in Levi’s house, many tax collectors and sinners were also sitting with Jesus and his disciples.”[11] When asked why he would eat with such people, Jesus said to them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.”[12]

He became so popular so quickly that while trying to eat a meal in Nazareth, “the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat.” The meal would have to wait, there was teaching and healing to be done.

A great crowd followed him to a deserted place, and stayed listening to him well into the evening. The disciples thought to send the crowd away to find something to eat, but Jesus answered them, “You give them something to eat.”[13] With five loaves and two fish, all ate and were filled.

The disciples, humble as they were, did seek for power. Once as they walked along, they argued with one another about who was the greatest. Rather than show of his power and strength, Jesus taught them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”[14] Jesus didn’t come to rule like a king, but rather to rule in the hearts of the people.

At the end, when he knew the end was near, they gathered in an upper room. Jesus didn’t offer them wealth or power; he didn’t demand the death of his enemies. Instead, he gave them himself, willingly going to his fate, becoming so much more than a provincial ruler in an empire built on violence.

While they were eating, he took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to them, and said, “Take; this is my body.” Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, and all of them drank from it. He said to them, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many. Truly I tell you, I will never again drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.”[15]

We choose the kind of banquets we attend. We can dine on wealth and power, using violence and fear to control others. We can serve a meal of greed on a platter of death. We can participate in the banquets of empire. But Jesus offers a different way.

Let us dine on service and self-sacrifice. Let us use kindness and love, not to force, but to guide others to a better way of life. Let us serve a meal of gratitude for all that God has provided that gives life. Let us eat at Christ’s table, welcoming everyone, healing each other’s wounds, binding up broken hearts, and joining in the covenant of love.  Amen.



[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Mark 8:27-30.

[3] Mark 6:16.

[4] Mark 8:29.

[5] Michael Anthony Howard, “Weekly Seeds: The Banquet of God (Lavishing Grace)” for Sunday, July 11, 2021 on https://www.ucc.org/sermon-seeds/the-banquet-of-god-lavishing-grace/.

[6] Mark 6:20.

[7] Richard A. Horsley, Jesus and Empire: The Kingdom of God and the New World Disorder (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003), 32-33.

[8] Mark 6:22.

[9] Mark 6:25.

[10] Rachel Held Evans, Searching for Sunday: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2015).

[11] Mark 2:15.

[12] Mark 2:17.

[13] Mark 6:37.

[14] Mark 9:35.

[15] Mark 14:22-25.

Sunday, August 16, 2020

Have Mercy

August 16, 2020

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Matthew 15:21-28[1]

Hey, um, Jesus? Why are we going into the city? Chicago has some bad neighborhoods, you know. Watch out for that lady, the one that’s yelling. She sounds crazy. Okay, now she’s begging. Whoa, did you hear what he just said? And her comeback? Wow! Something just happened.

In this story, Jesus went away to a region where there were fewer Israelites and more Canaanites. Though they lived in proximity to one another, they were not friends. The disciples try to dismiss this woman, to roll up the windows and lock the doors if you will, but she keeps crying out. How wide is God’s mercy? Who is included in God’s saving grace? They wrestle with the question of who is included, and who is excluded.

We have some expectations for what will happen. Jesus always heals people, right? Jesus helps everybody. But in this instance, we are faced with the realization that Jesus doesn’t always behave the way we think he should. “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”[2] Jesus himself puts a limit on the reach of God’s mercy.

Is there a limited quantity of the power to cast out a demon? Does Jesus have batteries that run out, and the power can’t be wasted on the wrong people? If Jesus heals this girl from the demon, does that mean there will be less power for the next Israelite who was demonized? If the power that Jesus has comes from God, that doesn’t make sense. God’s power doesn’t run out. God doesn’t have limits. What is going on?

This is strange behavior from Jesus. And maybe it can’t be explained except to say that Jesus was not only Christ, Son of God, and Savior, but was also human, and had human failings, and was able to learn and grow. Something significant happened that day, and it may have changed Jesus’ whole view of his mission and ministry. Perhaps in this moment, Jesus changed from a Jewish prophet concerned only with his own people into the Savior of the whole world.

In the tenth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, when Jesus first sends the disciples out, he tells them “Go nowhere among the Gentiles, and enter no town of the Samaritans.”[3] At the end of the Gospel, Jesus told them “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations.”[4] Could it be that this experience in the district of Tyre and Sidon changed him?

There is a hymn by Gordan Light and Mark Miller called “Draw the Circle Wide.”[5] “Draw the circle wide. Draw it wider still. Let this be our song, no one stands alone, draw the circle wide.” This is the kind of big, open, welcoming love of God that we know. No matter who you are, or where you are on life’s journey, you’re welcome here. God loves you, yes, even you!

There is a similar image in the poem “Outwitted” by Edwin Markham: “He drew a circle that shut me out-Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. But love and I had the wit to win: We drew a circle and took him in!”[6] The love of God isn’t limited. God’s love doesn’t apply only to us and not to them. That is how we understand the wideness of God’s mercy.

The early church wasn’t there at first. The Jesus movement initially spread among the Jewish communities. It was Paul, converted from a persecutor of Christians into a follower of Christ, who took the church to the Gentiles. “There is no longer Jew or Greek,” Paul wrote to the church in Galatia, “there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”[7] The trajectory of the mission of Jesus changed after this encounter with the Canaanite woman.

She demanded his attention. Like all those in need of healing, she cries out “Have mercy on me, Lord.” A cry for help, help that this prophet is known to give. News of Jesus has spread throughout all Syria,[8] Capernaum,[9] the country of the Gadarenes,[10] and all the cities and villages of Israel,[11] how he heals the demon-possessed. This is her chance to help her daughter, and she won’t let it pass.

She appeals to their common ancestry. The Son of David has three Canaanite women recorded in his genealogy at the beginning of Matthew’s Gospel: Rahab, Tamar, and Ruth.[12] She says, in a way: We are kinfolk, you and I. I may be only a Canaanite, and we know what you Israelites think of us, but we are family. Still, he ignores her.

Even today we fail to empathize with people who are different from us. If another experiences oppression, injustice, or pain, but it is not happening in our community or doesn’t impact us because of our race, gender, class, or sexuality, then we dismiss it as unwelcome, unjustified, or untrue. The disciples urge Jesus to send her away, and he dismisses her as if her crisis is not his problem. Even the appeal to their common humanity, their relatedness, does not move him.

She persists. She won’t go away. She must see this through. She kneels before him and pleads: “Lord, help me.” Yet even this desperate act does not draw from him the needed mercy, only a crude response. It must have hurt, being dismissed like a dog. Still, she persists. She accepts the insult and musters a response. “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”[13] I know you can do this. I must save my daughter. Have you no mercy, even so much as a crumb, to spare for one such as me?

Maybe it was her persistence, despite the insult, despite the obvious effort to dismiss her. Maybe it was her wit to turn the insult into an argument for her case. In the end, Jesus notices her, and responds. He commends her faith. The disciples have heard his scolding, “You of little faith.” Here, in this persistent woman driven by the need of mercy, there is great faith. Persistence in the pursuit of mercy, faith in his power, and love, and mercy, has changed his mind. Her request is granted. Her daughter is healed. And Jesus has changed.

There is much that can divide us: heritage and history, nationality, race, gender, sexuality, religion, politics, and the cultural pull to get in with the right crowd and keep the others out. We can go along with the social expectation to draw a close circle around us, seeking protection, comfort, and safety. But will we notice the cry for mercy, for welcome, for love? Are we willing to draw a wider circle, to take in those who have been left out? Will we have enough persistence in the pursuit of mercy to change hardened hearts? I pray that we will have great faith as we seek to bring God’s mercy to the world.  Amen.



[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Matthew 15:24.

[3] Matthew 10:5.

[4] Matthew 28:19.

[5] “Draw the Circle Wide” WORDS: Gordon Light © 2008 Common Cup Company. MUSIC: Mark A. Miller © 2008 Abingdon Press, admin. by The Copyright Company.

[6] “Outwitted” by Edwin Markham (1852-1940).

[7] Galatians 3:28.

[8] Matthew 4:24.

[9] Matthew 8:16.

[10] Matthew 8:28.

[11] Matthew 9:35.

[12] Matthew 1:3, 5.

[13] Matthew 15:27.

Sunday, February 2, 2020

Living Into the Beatitudes


February 2, 2020
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Micah 6:1-8; Matthew 5:1-12

This is the beginning, according to Matthew. Jesus has been baptized, overcome temptation in the wilderness, and called his first disciples. He is already famous for teaching and healing. The crowds have gathered to hear what he has to say. And he begins with “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (5:3). What is he trying to tell us? That it is a good thing to be poor in spirit? What if I am rich in spirit? What if I’m doing just fine?

He goes on. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (5:4). Well, that’s nice. Widows and orphans deserve to be blessed, what with all they’ve been through. Then things get a little more strange. “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” (5:5). Well that just doesn’t make any sense, now, does it? The bold and the strong, they’re the ones who will inherit the earth, obviously. You can’t get ahead in this world if you’re meek. You have to take what’s yours, and if you have to take it from someone weaker than you, too bad for them.

“Blessed are the peacemakers…” (5:9). There is a scene in Monty Python’s Life of Brian (1979) in which people at the back of the crowd are too busy talking to hear what Jesus is saying. “I think he said, ‘Blessed are the cheese-makers.’”

In our culture, if you’re peaceful, you’re likely to be seen as unpatriotic, or un-American. If you are merciful, you’re soft on crime. If you’re meek, you’re asking for someone to push you around. In our culture, competition, power, and fear are the driving forces. Even if you think the Beatitudes are a nice idea, it is all too easy to see them as sentiment and not a practical guide for living.

But Jesus wasn’t just saying how nice it would be if people were more kind. He wasn’t saying that we should just get used to how things are, put up with oppression and injustice, and wait for the kingdom of heaven. Jesus was saying that we should live this way. Jesus was saying that we should be meek, or humble, merciful, peaceful, and that we should desire to live in right relationship with God. And Jesus wasn’t just talking to the disciples; he was taking to the crowd, and by extension, to us.

What if we looked at the Beatitudes as a whole, with one thing leading to the next? What if we took these blessings seriously, and not just metaphorically? Can we try to understand the Beatitudes as a guide for living, a set of principles which are an alternative to the way we usually view the world through the lens of our competitive consumer culture? There are three principles for living that can be found in the Beatitudes, according to Charles Cook, Professor Emeritus of the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas.[1] The principles are simplicity, hopefulness, and compassion.

If we read the words as they are, and not try to layer meaning on them, they point to a way of life in which simplicity is valued. Those who are meek are humble. If you are humble, you are open to the idea that you don’t know everything. You are open to the idea that God has not yet revealed everything, and there is yet more light and truth to be found. The humble ones know that they are only a part of the bigger picture. It takes humility to understand that we don’t own this world; it was given into our care by God. In caring for the earth, we care for that which belongs to God.

In a world filled with things that can cause us to fear, we need courage. If we hear what Jesus has to say, if we live our lives with humility, peacefulness, and mercy, we will be blessed with courage. In caring for others, we find that we have strength. If we live within our means, rather than grasping for more and more, we find that we have been blessed with abundance, with all that we need to live and more. The way of simplicity can free us from our culture of greed.

Do you have hope that things will get better? Many people no longer believe that. As the gap between rich and poor grows wider, as the divide between those on the left and right grows deeper, hope for the future seems to be getting lost, and is replaced by cynicism. The mantra of cynicism is “That’s just the way it is, get over it.” That way of thinking takes these words of Jesus, “For you always have the poor with you” (26:11), and turns them into a pronouncement rather than a call to always recognize and care for those among us who are poor.

Who are the poor in spirit? In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus says, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God” (6:20). When you have next to nothing, faith in God can be the most important thing in your life. But poor in spirit can also mean those whose spirits are broken. If you lived in Roman occupied Galilee in the first century, your spirit as a nation had been broken. You were, as a people, oppressed, downtrodden, and brokenhearted. Yet, you are still God’s chosen people. Remember that, and it can give you hope. Jesus echoed the promise of Isaiah 61: God sent him “to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted (61:1).

Hopefulness is the second principle of living into the Beatitudes. Christ offers hope to the hopeless. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled” (5:6). The day will come when right will win out over wrong. When we live in hopefulness, we know that mercy, humility, peace, and love will one day be the norm rather than the exception. When we face the world with hope, we know that it is darkest just before the dawn, and that the dawn will come. Because we live in Christ, we know that even though the road ahead leads to the crucifixion, it will also lead to the resurrection.

Hopefulness is what empowers us to believe that God’s kingdom is coming, and righteousness will claim the victory. “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (5:10). These words inspire the kind of hope that moved the Pilgrims to set out for a new world, even though some would not live to see it. This hope caused the revolutionaries to set a course for independence, even though it would cost the colonies dearly in blood and treasure. This spirit of hopefulness allowed the abolitionists to keep fighting to end slavery against those who would use the same bible to keep the Africans in bondage. Hopefulness and faith in the kingdom of heaven empowered women to demand the right to vote, the descendants of slaves to demand an end to discrimination, and gay and lesbian people to demand the right to marry the ones they love.

The most powerful principle of living into the Beatitudes, the key to walking in the steps of Jesus, is compassion. Compassion is much more than pity. To pity another means that you feel sorry for them. Compassion is more than sympathy. To be sympathetic means that you share the feelings of another. To have compassion means more. It means that what hurts you hurts me. Compassion means that when you mourn, I mourn with you, and thus you may be comforted. We are in this together. You share my humanity. You are part of my family.

Compassion is the principle that led Jesus to break so many of the Laws of Moses. Compassion led Jesus to heal the man with the withered hand on the sabbath (12:10). Compassion led Jesus to touch the leper and heal him (8:2-3). Compassion led Jesus to perform miracles, such as feeding the five-thousand (14:14-21). Compassion gives us a hunger for justice and a thirst for righteousness. With compassion we can be merciful, we can seek peace, we can see the other as an extension of ourselves. With compassion we can love our neighbor as ourselves.

Compassion is the principle that is motivated by love. It was love that gave us Jesus: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son” (John 3:16). It was love that carried Jesus to the cross. It is compassion and love that can give us the power to endure persecution for the sake of Christ. “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, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you” (5:11-12).

When we live into the Beatitudes, when we allow simplicity, hopefulness, and compassion to guide our lives, we will be able to bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things” (1 Cor. 13:7). When we live in love, we know that the kingdom of heaven is near.  Amen.


[1] Charles James Cook, "Pastoral Perspective on Matthew 5:1-12" in David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, General Editors, Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year A, Volume 1 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 308-312. Cook is Professor Emeritus of Pastoral Theology, Seminary of the Southwest, Austin, Texas.