In his sermon on I Corinthians 1 and the Beatitudes. Michael alluded to something that is worth wrestling with: things aren’t what they seem. What makes sense from the perspective of this world doesn’t make sense from God’s perspective.
Consider the Beautitudes:
Spiritual beggars are blessed—they can claim the kingdom of heaven as their own.
Those who weep for the brokenness of the world are blessed—a shout of joy is coming!
The meek, humble, and gentle are blessed—the promised land is their particular inheritance.
Those who are desperately hungry for righteousness are blessed—they will someday be given an abundance of the righteousness for which they long.
The merciful, those who give themselves to the hurting rather than take care of themselves, are blessed—they will be given the mercy they need.
Those with pure hearts are blessed—they will actually be allowed to look upon God!
Those who step into the midst of conflict to find peace will be blessed—they will discover that they are God’s sons and daughters.
And those who are persecuted are blessed—like the spiritual beggars, they can claim the kingdom of heaven as their own.
Each of these statements challenges the way we think, what we value, and what we pursue. I have never seen a commercial that said, “Be the spiritually poor,” or, “Be meek.” Instead, our commercials and culture say, “Be assertive! Treat yourself! Get what you want!” Even the values Jesus mentions that our world claims to believe in—mercy and peacemaking—fly out the window when showing mercy or pursuing peace means losing one’s identity, voice, and goals. We might admire Mother Teresa, but people aren’t lining up to take her place. Self-sacrifice is only desirable in the abstract; the assumption of our world is that we need to take care of ourselves first.
Yet Jesus is explicit. It is these people who are blessed—not the spiritual millionaires, nor the cynical and callous, nor the confident and assertive, nor the “I’m satisfied with the way I am,” nor the “I’ll take care of myself first,” nor the “I don’t need to change; I just need to be true to myself,” nor the apathetic and uncaring, nor the one who won’t stick out his neck for righteousness because of fear of criticism. To pursue the world’s values is to risk losing the blessing of God. Things aren’t what they seem.
It takes faith to trust Jesus in this. But if you find yourself feeling spiritually poor, or weeping for the brokenness of the world, or wishing you could mediate between two people who are fighting, don’t be frightened! Step forward in faith as a spiritual beggar, a mourner, a peacemaker, and assume that God will bless you in a place that does not make sense!
Steven+
Scripture Reflections
When Matthew (4:18-22) tells us about Jesus’ call to Simon and Andrew, and later to James and John, he includes some interesting details. Simon and Andrew, for example, aren’t casting any sort of net into the sea. They’re using a dragnet—a weighted net that would sink to the bottom of the lake and scoop up whatever it caught. He gives us little details about James and John, too. We hear the name of their father, and we see them mending their nets, taking care of the small but important details.
We hear Jesus call to them, complete with a promise to make something useful out of them. What we don’t hear is the motivation behind their response. What did Simon and Andrew see in him that caused them to quit their jobs and follow him? What did James and John hear that caused them to leave not just their nets, but their father behind?
Matthew isn’t interested in showing us the psychology of conversion, or the internal motivations that drive it. Instead, what stands out in his account is the seeming irrationality of their abrupt response. I think Matthew is doing something clever here. Jesus does not persuade these fisherman with compelling arguments or promises of a reward. His call takes hold of their hearts like a net snatches a fish. Before they can be fishers of men, they must first be caught by their Lord.
It is tempting to use a story like this to build an argument—for predestination, rigorous discipleship, extreme faith, etc. For now, let’s simply marvel at something obvious, but true. It is such a blessing to be caught in Jesus’ net! Romans 6:20 says that all of us are, by nature, bound by sin. We are slaves to it (Rom. 6:16-18). From a spiritual standpoint we are the sick, afflicted, and paralyzed that Jesus healed in 4:23-24. But in Jesus’ net we find not bondage, but healing, freedom, and new life. To be snared in Jesus’ net is to be bound to Christ, and to receive the righteousness and the inheritance that is given to him.
Does this passage answer our deepest questions about the human will, and how it relates to God’s? Probably not. But it does give us a stunning picture of the grace of God, and of the power of Jesus’ call to us. All of us who belong to him have been snatched out of the jaws of death and brought into new life. He is taking hearts of stone and replacing them with hearts of flesh (Ez. 36:26). And if all of this saving work can be hurled on us like a net by the Savior who calls, then his voice is worth listening to now. His promises are worth believing over the world’s false promises. His presence is worth seeking over all the world’s riches.
Justin+
Scripture Reflections
John the Baptist said something interesting in the Gospel reading from Sunday: “I myself did not know him, but he who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain, this is he who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ And I have seen and have borne witness that this is the Son of God.” (John 1:33-34)
John and Jesus were cousins, and so even if they didn’t spend time together growing up, they would have known of each other’s existence. Elizabeth’s response to Mary’s visit while they were both pregnant means that, at the very least, John would have grown up hearing that he had a cousin who was his “lord” (Luke 1:39-45). Elizabeth likely told him stories of the time he “danced in the womb” because Jesus was in the room! And when Jesus arrived to be baptized, John knew that Jesus was his superior and believed that it should be Jesus baptizing him. So, he obviously knew Jesus, at least in some sense.
And yet he boldly testified, “I did not know him—that he was the Messiah, the one baptizing with the Holy Spirit, the Son of God—at least until I saw the Spirit descend, because God gave me that sign.” It is intriguing to think that John went into the wilderness and began a ministry of preparing the way for the coming Messiah without knowing who that coming Messiah would be. Did he speculate that it might be Jesus? Did he have other candidates in mind? Did he have any idea how long he would have to wait for whomever he was waiting for in the wilderness?
It is difficult to say “yes” to what God calls us to do without knowing how it will work out. I like to do home renovation projects, and one of the adages of home renovation is “know the end before you begin.” In other words, plan the whole job up to the conclusion, and then start, so that you know what you are trying to accomplish and actually reach the end. But John wasn’t given that luxury, and we aren’t always given it either. God often calls us simply to do what he has given us to do today, without knowing where things will lead.
He calls us to forgive, not knowing how the other will respond or where the relationship will go. He calls us to love those who are hurting, not knowing if they will notice. He calls us to humble ourselves, not knowing whether anyone else but God will appreciate our self-sacrifice. He calls us to pray, not knowing the response we will receive. He calls us to tell our friends and neighbors about him, not knowing if they will thank us or mock us.
Most of us would likely rather walk by sight, but the Lord calls us to walk in faith, and faith means doing what is right even when we can’t see where it will go.
Steven+