January 19, 2014
Pine Valley Christian Church
Matthew 5:1-12
Rev. David Hansen
Jesus begins his ministry by telling us that the kingdom of God is at hand. It is upon us and among us and all around us. We are in the midst of the kingdom. God is not far away, but close at hand. In an age when the Roman Empire was close at hand, and the hand of Rome was laid upon the people, this image of the kingdom or Empire of God was very real. But we do not have a king ruling over us and the image of a king is somewhat distant for us, and androcentric. For this reason, some people opt for the “kindom of God,” still others talk about the “household of God.” I find myself thinking in terms of the civilization of God, but I’m not sure that is any better terminology, but sometimes we seem to be so uncivil to each other it helps me remember that being civil is a virtue.
Whether we like kingdom or kindom or household or some other phrase Jesus’s point is clear—we live in two worlds or realms. We are migratory creatures. We live in the finite world of history and circumstances, but we are not bound by history or circumstances. We are not the victim of our circumstances. Our circumstances are the conditions of life, but they do not determine how we live. Nelson Mandela spends years in prison, but he emerges from his cell a free man prepared to lead a nation. Desmond Tutu said once that during the days of apartheid he was in and out of jail as often as some people are in and out of the shower. He was in prison, but the prison was not in him. He lived under the conditions of apartheid, but they did not live in him.
Martin Luther King, Jr. lived in a segregated nation, yet he, he dreamed of a day when we would judge one another by the content of our character rather than the color of our skin. When he received the Noble Peace Prize in 1964 he told the committee that he wondered why he was selected to receive this honor. He said that after thinking about it, he concluded that the award was being given to him in recognition that nonviolence is the answer to the crucial political and moral question of our time—the need to overcome oppression and violence without resorting to oppression and violence. Civilization and violence are antithetical concepts.
I wrote down this passage. He said, “I dare to believe that peoples everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits. I believe that self-centered people tear [others] down, other centered people build up.” It was on January 30, 1956 that his home was bombed. Standing on the porch of his house that night he told the crowd that had gathered, “We must meet hate with love.”
Last week Natalie led a discussion of nonviolence and we learned about the myth of redemptive violence. The Popeye cartoon teaches us the world is a dangerous place and if we want to survive we all need to be armed with our own brand of spinach—or whatever it takes to take down the enemy who is always lurking outside the door. Walter Wink, who coined the phrase “redemptive violence” goes on in his writing to say that the only antidote to the myth of redemptive violence is the myth of redemptive love. Violence cannot defeat violence.
In today’s reading we hear Jesus telling us that is it poor and the merciful who are blessed. This is not the world of Popeye the sailor man. What Jesus is telling us makes no sense in Popeye’s world. But that is just the point of the Sermon on the Mount. The good news of the gospel is that another world is possible. The world of Popeye is real. It is as real as our fears, because it is the creation of our fears. But another world is possible. Jesus is calling upon his followers to be the social pioneers who make this alternative world visible. So Clarence Jordan writes in his Cotton Patch translation of the Beatitudes, “The spiritually humble are God’s people, for they are citizens of God’s new order.” In my own rewording of this passage I wrote, the spiritually humble are God’s social pioneers demonstrating love for God and for neighbor and praying for their enemies.
The second beatitude says, blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Jordan writes, “They who are deeply concerned are God’s people, for they will see their ideas become reality. Dr. King called himself a “transformed nonconformist,” a maladjusted person who refused to become well-adjusted to the injustices of this world. Blessed are those who mourn because they do not mourn for themselves; they mourn for the world that is trapped in a never-ending cycle of violence that begets more violence.
Blessed are the meek, Jordan says “They who are gentle are God’s people, for they will be God’s partners across the land. Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes his commentary on this beatitude, “This community of strangers [that gathers around Jesus] possesses no inherent right to protect itself, nor do they claim such rights. . . They do not insist on their legal rights, for they do not belong to this earth.” And those who now possess this earth by violence will lose it. Bonhoeffer ends his meditation on this beatitude with this observation, “the renewal of the earth depends on those who gather at the cross.” The cross is not a call to endure suffering but a summons to invest ourselves in a future in which hospitality outweighs hostility.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst, for they will be satisfied—or in the Cotton Patch version, they will be given plenty to chew on. Wendell Berry says in one of his poems that we pray not for a new heaven and a new earth, but to be quiet in heart and in eye clear. What we need is here.
I think, therefore, that the in Matthew’s gospel we can think of the Beatitudes as a new Decalogue.This sermon is the marching orders for the community of Jesus, a community not conformed to this world but transformed by the renewal of the mind.. Last week I spoke of the 8th day of creation. Baptism marks the first day of God’s new creation. Now we think of ourselves in biblical terms as being a new creation planted in the midst of this world but not bound by this world.
The church is a sign that signals to the world that the path of Popeye is not the only way. There is a more excellent way of being. I’ll give you an example that struck me in a very powerful way when I learned it. In the Samoan community when someone commits a crime against another person—not matter how awful it may be, even murder—the guilty party is sentenced to sit outside the home of the family that has been wronged and wait for their judgment on his fate. The family that has been wronged can decide the fate of the guilty party and the guilty person must sit outside and wait for the verdict, which may come in a day or in a week. As long as the person sits outside, the family inside the house is responsible for his care and welfare. They must attend to his needs and make sure they are met. In our time we might call this a form of restorative justice. The goal is not simply to punish the guilty party, but to restore health to the family that has been wronged and to the whole community that must live with the verdict handed down.
As a sign we enjoy fellowship with one another. We come to a common table and break bread with each other. We say to each other, you are welcome here. Other places may not be so hospitable, but you are welcome here. The fellowship of the church is something precious. We pray with each other and for each other. We confess our sin together and together we receive the word of forgiveness that allows us to accept our brokenness but not be defined by it. That is the church of the beatitudes, showing the world the more excellent way of love, the most enduring and powerful force in the life.