Hymns from “Glory to God” the Presbyterian Church (USA) Hymnal. Musical streaming and print rights granted under OneLicense #A-730100 and CCLI#11457258.
Author: Sarah
May 24, 2020 Worship
Theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven 2.0
Matthew 5:10-11
David A. Davis
May 17, 2020
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The Church of the Beatitudes in the Holy Land sits on a high hill that rises up from the Sea of Galilee. It is more hill than mountain though there are some towering mountains in the region. The setting of the Beatitudes, there in Galilee, marked by tradition, is stunningly beautiful. The church and surrounding gardens shine up there on a sunny day which, of course, is most days. The view from a boat out on the lake that is the Sea of Galilee is stunning. The church grounds are lush. The gardens full of color. The worship spaces in the church are striking: artwork, ceramics, iconography. Striking maybe not in a Presbyterian way but beautiful in a memorable way. The view from up there at the Church of the Beatitudes is just as beautiful in return. Looking out over the Sea of Galilee, with Tiberius to the right, the Golan Heights far off and up to the left. You can see all the towns around the lake, many of them named in the gospels. As the landscape rises from the water, you can actually see and then imagine the amphitheater-like quality of the location where tradition holds that Jesus spoke the beatitudes and the rest of the Sermon on the Mount to follow. On the Nassau Church trip to Israel/Palestine several years ago we worship on the grounds of the Church of the Beatitudes on Sunday morning. In worship, we read the entire Sermon of the Mount as the congregation looked out over the view I just described. It is as if you can envision the Sermon on the Mount; with Jesus speaking at the top of the hill for all to hear; the disciples, the crowds. It is a wondrous panorama to behold and to imagine.
But that’s not what Jesus saw. What Jesus saw was the crowds. As in “when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up to the mountain and after he sat down, his disciples came to him and he began to speak.” When Jesus saw the crowds. Several times in the last few weeks I have made mention of those crowds Jesus saw just before the beginning of Matthew, chapter five. As Jesus went throughout Galilee teaching and proclaiming and curing, the word about him spread. The crowds; a crowd full of all those who were brought to Jesus and a crowd of those friends and loved ones bringing people to Jesus. A crowd named in Matthew as “all the sick, those who were afflicted with various diseases and pains, demoniacs, epileptics, and paralytics.” When Jesus saw the crowds. What Jesus saw as we started to traipse up the Mount of Beatitudes as a panorama of human suffering and humanity’s need. What he saw were “the great crowds who followed him from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea and from beyond the Jordan.” That’s the bible’s way of saying that Jesus was looking at a great crowd of humanity from everywhere. It was a crowd that defined, displayed, and sounded like a trumpet blast…the human condition. When Jesus saw the crowds…..he said blessed.
It is way easy to encounter the Beatitudes of Jesus and come away with the after taste left by a kind of soothing devotional for the day. No, they ought to move and shake the heart of faith more than that. It is way too easy to turn the Beatitudes into some kind of motivational speech. You can almost hear that kind of rhetorical twist, like a political rally or locker room pep talk. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. And few shouts and amens comes from the crowd. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. And the approval from the crowd gets louder. Blessed are the meek. Yes! By the time you get near the end to peacemakers, the crowd is in a frenzy and Jesus is shouting. With a rhetorical context like that, the takeaway is clear; if you want the kingdom of heaven, be poor in spirit, if want to be comforted, than you’re going to have to mourn, if you want this inheritance, you better be meek, you want to be filled, for goodness sakes be hungry and thirsty for righteousness, you want mercy, be merciful, if you want to be considered children of God, then be a peacemaker. Jesus with a finger wag and shout. Jesus as a motivational speaker!
Of course, the problem with that rhetorical hot take comes with the last two beatitudes. Jesus says, “Blessed are those who are persecuted…Blessed are you when people revile you, and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account…” And the crowd responds with “What? What did he just say? Ooh, I wish he hadn’t said that.” Persecution. Reviled. Evil Falsehoods. All on account of Jesus. “uhm, no thank you.” There is a reason that a devotional reading of the beginning of Matthew 5 can so easily can drop the last two. There is a reason if a couple selects the Beatitudes to be read at their wedding or family selects the Beatitudes to be read at a memorial service, they most often ask the reading to stop before the last two. And it’s not just because the last one breaks the poetic flow either.
“Blessed are those who persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Jesus brings them back to where he started. “For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Kingdom of heaven. The Beatitudes are less intended to be an exhortation to a way of life and more intended to be a description of the kingdom of heaven. A kingdom that turns the world upside down in a first shall be last kind of way. The Beatitudes both move and shake the heart of the followers of Jesus when you ponder them as descriptive of the kingdom of heaven. Persecution. Reviled. Evil falsehoods. From saints and martyrs to ordinary folks like us jus trying to be faithful. The world’s forces will always push back, confront, fight against the ways of Jesus. One only has to keep reading to the gospel’s end to come upon the prototypical example. “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely”…Jesus.
Professor Dale Allison over at Princeton Seminary sums it up in such a straightforward way. “What is envisioned is all hostility brought on because of ‘righteousness’, that is because of faithful obedience to God’s will. God’s ways are not our ways” he writes, “which means they are not always pleasant ways, so those who demand obedience to them will always meet opposition.” Notice with this last beatitude, Jesus breaks the pattern. It is not
“Blessed are those that people ridicule because of me…” No, Jesus says “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.” Not blessed are those. Blessed are You. It is as if Jesus is saying to all who will follow, Jesus is saying to you and me, Not if, when.
Enduring the ridicule of a sibling who can’t believe you continue to live the faith entrusted to you when you both were children. Being on the receiving end of a bully’s wrath at school when you speak up for the person being picked on. Losing your job for calling someone on something illegal or unethical. Getting yelled at by a stranger for trying to take steps to keep everyone safe and healthy. Getting trolled online because you express a concern for justice or creation or the poor or the imprisoned. From saints and martyrs to ordinary folks like us just trying to be faithful. Taking the name of Christian, being a follower of Jesus, striving to be a faithful disciple will bring you into conflict with the way of the world, the dominant forces of culture, and all who work to squash the kingdom God intends. It is not an if. It is a when. Pondering that, pondering the Beatitudes ought to both move and shake your heart
I read an op ed piece in the New York Times last week that was entitled “Christianity Gets Weird” The subtitle was “Modern Life is ugly, brutal, and barren. Maybe you should try a Latin Mass.” I am not sure I can adequately sum up the essay in a few words. And I certainly have a lot more thoughts about it than I can express here. The writer and those interviewed tell of a growing group of young adults who identify as “Weird Christians” who find themselves turning more and more to the ancient practices and rites of the church to find meaning and purpose in their lives. Young people turning to ancient practices has actually been around for more than a few years having started awhile back in the Anglican Church in the UK. What does sound more recent is how these folks connect through various social media platforms. “Weird Christianity is equal parts traditionalism and well, punk” the writer says. It is actually an intriguing liturgical, theological, and cultural read.
I will admit frustration to yet another vast painting with one big brush and then brushing off what the writer refers to as “mainline Protestant denominations” who are overly “accommodationist” and “water down” Christian faith. When I read that kind of complete pigeon holing, I find myself wondering what and how many mainline protestant congregations a young adult Christian has been in. At another point, folks like you and I are referred to as “Flexible Christmas and Easter Christians; those for whom religion is a primarily social or communal affair.” What struck me most was a few of the other young people quoted near the end of the long essay. One person reflected on how the current pandemic for Weird Christians serves as a call to action against the “absolute dearth of mutual aid in America.” Christian faith, he said, “compels us not just to take care of people around us but to seek to further integrate our lives and fortunes into those of the people around us, a sort of solidarity that necessarily entails creating organizations to help each other.” Other person said the pandemic has made all to clear that liberal and conservative visions of American life based “on self-fulfillment via liberation to pursue one’s desires is not enough. It turns out” he concludes” we need each other and need each other dearly…Weird Christianity offers a version of our common life more robust than individual pursuit of desire-fulfillment or profit.”
That’s not Weird. That’s the gospel. That’s the kingdom of God. I’m not sure what or how many protestant mainline denominations these Weird Christians have been in, but to repeat what I said above and what I have said in some way, shape, or from the pulpit inside the sanctuary at Nassau Church: Taking the name of Christian, being a follower of Jesus, striving to be a faithful disciple will bring you into conflict with the way of the world, the dominant forces of culture, and all who work to squash the kingdom God intends. It is not an if. It is a when. Indeed, life in the world can be ugly, brutal, and barren. Try the gospel of Jesus Christ and long for, work toward, and serve the kingdom he describes in the Beatitudes.
Jesus saw the crowds and looked out over a panorama of human suffering and humanity’s plight, and Jesus said, “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.”
May 17, 2020 Worship
By Whom?
Matthew 5:9
David A. Davis
May 10, 2020
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Many, many years ago Cathy and I found ourselves in a small comedy club while on vacation. It was small enough that there really weren’t any safe tables away from the eye of the comedian at the microphone on stage. At one point the comedian looked right at me and asked, “You sir, what do you do for a living?” Without missing a beat, I said I was a counselor. “What kind of counselor?” I responded with the complete falsehood that I was a school counselor. It was not my proudest moment but in my defense, it was the ethics of self-protection. There was no way I was going to tell someone getting paid to make fun of people that I was a pastor. On the other hand, probably around the same time in our lives, I visited our son Ben’s first grade class on one of those mornings where parents come in to tell about their work. I told the class that I was the pastor of the Presbyterian Church. I told them where the church building was located not far from the school. And I gave a few sentences of a thumb nail sketch of what my job looked like. After the class wrapped up and the teacher thanked the parents and the kids clapped, I was saying my good byes to Ben and heading for the door when a little boy ran after me. “Mister, Mister” he said. I stopped and he looked up at me with wide eyes and big smile, and with a tone that showed he was more than familiar with church, he asked, “Are you a preacher too?” I stood up a little taller. My shoulders went back a bit straighter. I smiled back at him and I said “Well, yes. Yes I am!” “That’s awesome” he said and ran right back to his desk. When it comes to what we do and who we are, I guess it depends sometimes on whose asking, whose talking.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God….for they will be called children of God.” Jesus says, “for they will be called children of God.” Just a bit later in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, “But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you, so that you maybe children of your Father in heaven.” (5:44-45) The language of “children of God” and “spirit of adoption” is central to the Apostle Paul’s theological argument in Romans. “It is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ.”(8:16-17) In Galatians, right Paul proclaims “there is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ”Paul writes “in Jesus Christ you are all children of God through faith.” (3:26-28) And the writer of the First Epistle of John constantly refers to the readers as children and little children. “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.” (3:1)
Jesus said “They shall be called children of God.” Called by whom? This week in my bible study with some Presbyterian clergy colleagues we read from John 14 together. You will remember that chapter because of “Do not let your hearts be troubled” and “In my father’s house are many dwelling places” and “I am the way, the truth, and the life” and “peace I leave with you”. Scholars refer to that lengthy part of John’s gospel as Jesus’ “last discourse” to his disciples. This week we focused on one lasting promise from Jesus as powerful and meaningful as the few I just mentioned. “I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you”, Jesus said. He goes on to speak of the coming Holy Spirit. But to the children of God comes the promise to not leave you orphaned. You will not be like orphaned children. You will not be orphaned. That promise comes from Christ himself. As does the naming, the label, the stamp, the claim, the identity as children of God. Called by whom? It comes directly from God in and through Christ. “Blessed are the peacemakers for they will be called children of God”…because I said so. Because Jesus said so.
Last Sunday in Adult Education, Professor Eric Barreto pointed out that in the Acts of the Apostles Luke doesn’t refer to the follows of Jesus as “Christians”. Luke prefers language, label, identity that relates to “the way”. “Faith is a way of life” Dr, Barreto said. I wonder if there isn’t a similar point that comes with the preference for the language of “children of God” in the gospels, in Paul, in First John. I don’t have all my resources with me here at home but I still have the living library of scholarship that benefits the preacher at Nassau Church. I checked with Old Testament scholar Kathie Sakenfeld this week. She confirmed my hunch that the reference to God’s people as “the children of God” is really a New Testament description. It is our identity defined in relationship to God through Christ. Through the writing of Luke we learn that faith is a way. With the term “children of God” we learn an essential aspect of faith is relationship. Our relationship to the one who names us, identifies us, calls us children of God.
The emphasis in this 7th beatitude from Jesus typically falls on “peacemakers”, doesn’t it? What does it mean to be a peacemaker? What kind of peacemaking? Who are the peacemakers? Where are the peacemakers? That is a timely question when you look around these days: leaders who turn a tragic pandemic into partisan politics while protestors occupy a state house carrying weapons. Yes, there are plenty of peacemakers. You just have to look. You just have to shift your focus.
Peacemaking. Is it those who work to make peace with God? To make peace in the world? To make peace in the United States Congress for goodness sake? To make peace in the family? To make peace in a community, to make peace on a team at work, to make peace in the school cafeteria, to make peace on a Zoom call? Of course the answer is “Yes”. For Jesus, the disciples and the crowd gathered up there on the Mount of Beatitudes, the mention of a peacemaker, of peacemaking, of peace, the mention would have come dripping with all the connotations of the Jewish understanding of shalom. In Hebrew it means so much more than hello or goodbye, even so much more than peace. Shalom: peace, wholeness, harmony, welfare, completeness, harmony. Rabbi Feldman told me several times of how he changed the weekly shabbat prayer for Israel from a prayer for victory to a prayer for peace in Israel and peace in the world. Shalom.
Blessed are the shalom-makers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who work for harmony with God. Blessed are those who work for the welfare of the world and for creation. Blessed are those who seek to make relationships sound and complete. Blessed are those who work for wholeness, to make others whole, to keep others whole. Those who risk their lives to make and keep another person whole. Ah, yes, I see. I see plenty of them. I see too many of them to even try a litany of names. But those folks, all of those folks, they shall be called children of God.
One of the rays of light these last many weeks has been the chance all of us have had to watch the coming of spring up close and in slow motion. As someone said to me, “I don’t know if spring is more beautiful this year or I am just able to, forced to pay more attention to it”. I don’t know about you, but as I have been able to spend time outside and take so many walks, I feel like I have been able to see spring come not week by week, not even day by day, but almost hour by hour. On one of the streets in our neighborhood has no driveways, no cars. On the map it is listed as the end of Terhune Drive but it only has backyards that edge up to it and lots and lots of trees. This week I watched God paint the leaves on those trees before my very eyes. I have been reminded of a line from Norman Maclean’s wonderful novel “A River Runs Through It”. The narrator describes the beauty of Montana and the trout stream on the family property as so breathtaking that it was like “the world with dew still on it’”.
I don’t want to be unfair to summer, winter, and fall, but this season, not just season of year, but in this season of life, it seems like God has made creation more beautiful, more complete, more whole. At a time with so little peace, God working somewhere, somewhere, maybe just a little bit, to help me experience peace. Then I think of all the stories in the gospels of Jesus working to make others whole, keep others whole. You remember the crowds that were following Jesus just before these beatitudes were full of people bringing all the broken, and sick to Jesus to be made whole. Jesus the peacemaker, ever the peace maker. Forever, the peacemaker.
To be called children of God by Jesus, to know yourself to be a child of God because Jesus told to so, to live, more and have your being as a child of God, among the children of God, is to be called to do the things that make for peace in every area of your life. It is core to the life of discipleship in Christ. Working to make others whole, working to keep others whole, working to making the world whole and keeping creation whole, when you stop and think about it, it is the family business, the family calling for us……the children of God.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
Tasting Beauty, Seeing Mystery
Matthew 5:8
David A. Davis
May 3, 2020
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Cathy and I have been taking long walks on the weekends. We walk multiple times a day around our neighborhood with the dog. But on weekends we leave the dog home. The longer, faster walk has a different focus. The weekend walk is for exercise and the dog stops too often! On the Saturday before Easter we walked from our home to the church because we wanted to see the “Christ is Risen’ banner and the beautiful flower arrangement at the top of the church steps. We walked by way of Prospect Street, all the way from Lake Carnegie to the university campus. Now I have driven that route more times than I could ever count. Past the Wakefield home, the Gregory’s, the Feldman’s, the Katen-Narvels, the Schreibers, probably a few others. On that several mile walk that day, trying for a bit of pace, I learned something I never realized before. Going that direction from the lake to the university on Prospect Street is up hill! Never noticed it in the car! I noticed it on foot! A gradual, mile or so, uphill. A different focus changed what I could see.
Matthew 5:8. The sixth beatitude of Jesus. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.” The pure in heart and seeing God. Not quite as clear, not quite as literal, not quite as straight forward as “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.” Seeing God. The prologue to John’s gospel ends with this: “No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.” So we see God in the life of the historical Jesus and we believe we will see Jesus Christ again when he welcomes us into the kingdom of heaven. But it seems to me the promise of the beatitudes in the teaching of Jesus connotes something more, or something in addition to the “wait…and see” assurance of eternal life. And as for “the pure in heart”, let’s hope Jesus is not referring to only those with a sinless, perfect, stumble-free walk of faith. You and I won’t make that list. No, we join our voices with that of psalmist. “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.” (Psalm 51)
“Pure in heart”. The expression comes in Psalm 24 as well, “Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord? And who shall stand in God’s holy place? Those who have clean hands and pure hearts, who do not lift up their souls to what is false, and do not swear deceitfully. They will receive blessing from the Lord and vindication from the God of their salvation. Such is the company of those who seek the Lord, who seek the face of the God of Jacob.” (Psalm 24:3-6) Pure hearts in the company of those who seek the Lord. Pure hearts among those who yearn to see the face of the God of Jacob.
Dr. Dale Allison, professor of New Testament at Princeton Seminary and part of the Nassau faith community, links Psalm 24 and Matthew 5:8 in his book on the Sermon on the Mount. Dr. Allison reminds his reader that Psalm 24 is one of the Psalms of Ascent. They are psalms intended to be read by the people of Israel as the ascended the hills up to Jerusalem to visit the temple. “The company of those who seek the Lord” are those who are heading up the hill to experience God in the rites and rituals to temple worship. Their purity of heart reflects the singular focus of the journey toward praise and worship of the God of Jacob. In those acts of worship in the temple, people experienced the holiness and the presence of God. They experienced, they knew, they saw God. In a helpful way, Professor Allison points to Augustine’s definition of a pure heart as a “simple heart” undivided in allegiance and rightly directed. And he cites Kierkegaard: “purity of heart is to will one thing.” A faithful pilgrim whose very journey changes the focus, brings the focus, burns a laser focus in a heart yearning to be nourished by the presence of God. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
It strikes me that I have probably made mention over the years of those who choose to experience worship on the Lord’s Day out in creation while walking in the mountains or being on the water or on the golf course. I am sure when I have done that there was hint of ministerial disdain or at least the strong suggestion that it could never be replacement for gathering with the people of God as the body of Christ here in the…..sanctuary. Well, I hope I won’t do that anymore. Because the yearning to be nourished by the presence of God these days doesn’t come with a pilgrim’s journey to the temple of Jerusalem nor the sanctuary at 61 Nassau Street for that matter. But it is there, isn’t it? The longing, the intent, the desire to be in God’s presence and to offer praise and adoration, to be fed by word and by sacrament, to worship in song. It is a longing for the presence of God made known in the rites and rituals and worship of our tradition. The longing still comes with the journey. But not the journey along the pilgrims way, not the journey of a morning rush to church hoping all the kids have shoes on, not even the journey over to your device this morning. No, it is a journey of the Holy Spirit that stirs our hearts and moves our soul. A movement of the Spirit that in all of its mystery, purifies our heart if but for a moment with the singular focus of coming into God’s presence. A gift of God’s grace in our journey together, even while physically a part from one another. A journey, a gift that burns a laser focus in hearts yearning to be nourished by the presence of God.
Marilynn Robinson’s novel Gilead takes the form of a long correspondence from a Presbyterian pastor to his young son. The pastor married late in life and is older than most father’s of a young son. He is also unwell and wrestling with the reality of his mortality. The book represents all he wants his young growing son to know and learn in his absence. At one point he tells of being in the sanctuary of the church he serves one Sunday after worship.
“Today was the Lord’s Supper, and I preached on Mark 14:22,”And as they were eating, he took bread, and when he had blessed, he brake it, and gave it to them, and said, Take ye: this is my body.” Normally I would not preach on the Words of Institution themselves when the Sacrament is the most beautiful illumination of them there could be. But I have been thinking a great deal about the body these last weeks. Blessed and broken…. I have been thinking lately how I have loved my physical life. In any case, and you may remember this, when almost everyone had left and the elements were still on the table and the candles still burning, your mother brought you up the aisle to me and said, “You ought to give him some of that.” You’re too young, of course, but she was completely right. Body of Christ, broken for you. Blood of Christ, shed for you. Your solemn and beautiful child face lifted up to receive these mysteries at my hands. They are the most wonderful mystery, body and blood.” A face lifted to receive the wonderful mystery of the very love of God. A face, a heart, a soul lifted, focused on the wonderful mystery of the very love of God made known to us in Jesus Christ. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
Over at Princeton Seminary, they have been having daily worship each day of the semester even though the campus is closed and students and faculty are working from home. One day this week the final chapel service on the last day of class was held virtually. The choir offered a final hymn that just gave me chills when Cathy invited me to watch it. While it doesn’t take much to bring me to tears these day, it was deeply moving to me. The choir is led by Martin Tel. Martin, Sharilyn, Theo, Sarah, and Kathryn are such a part of our life here at Nassau. The song is entitled “The Journey Song.” “Come with Me for the Journey is Long. The journey, the journey, the journey is long. Come with me. Walk with me. Sing With me. Pray with me. For the journey is long.” Each member singing in their own Zoom box one the screen like Marissa, George, Elem, and Maria along with Michael at the organ did for worship with the Hallelujah Chorus on Easter here at Nassau. Near the end more and more singers appear represent all parts of the community; Faculty, administrators, President Barnes and his wife Dawne. Most of you would see faces you recognize on the screen. Faces you have seen on Sunday in worship in the sanctuary. What touched my heart was not just the song. But an educational, theological faith community, physically a part from one another with united hearts laser focused on worshipping in the presence of God and singing of their desire to walk this pilgrim’s journey together…no matter how. Miller Chapel as forever been the physical heart of the seminary campus. In that moment at the close of the service, there was an affirmation, a proclamation that worship is indeed, at the heart of the seminary’s life.
To all of you I love and serve at Nassau Presbyterian Church and beyond, our pilgrim journey to come into God’s presence, our journey to be nurtured by the promise and presence of God, the journey is long. Some days, some weeks, some months, some seasons (like right now) seem a lot longer than others. But we walk together. We sing together. We pray together all along the way.
Friends in Christ, come with me, for the journey is long.
And together we shall taste something of the beauty of God.
And together we shall see something of the mystery of God.
Lift your face. Lift your heart. Lift your soul to the most wonderful mystery of God’s love made known to us in Jesus Christ.
“O taste and see that the Lord is good.”
May 10, 2020 Worship
May 3, 2020 Worship
I Desire Mercy
Matthew 5:7
David A. Davis
April 26, 2020
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The call came in one the main number at the church. When we closed the church office weeks ago we placed a message on that number asking people to leave their message right there as staff members take turns checking that number every day. We have found that surprisingly few messages have been left. Some folks inquiring about ArmInArm. A few sales calls. And then a call came in not long ago from someone who lived just a few blocks from the church. The person that was unknown to us had a specific need. The explanation was a long-standing medical condition that required treatment at home which involved distilled water. Food and other supplies were being delivered but the water was needed much sooner. One staff member took the call. Passed it on to another staff member who responded. Water was delivered a few hours later with a second delivery happening a few days later from a member of our Nassau helper team.
Jesus says, “Blessed are the merciful…”
When we began this sermon series in our shared preaching life back in February, I made a couple of comparisons and contrasts to Luke’s version of the beatitudes commonly referred to the Sermon on the Plain. You remember Luke doesn’t just stick with blessings. He tosses in some woes too. “Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. Woe to you who are laughing now for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.” (Luke 6:24-25) In Luke Jesus doesn’t speak about the poor in spirit. The blessing comes to those who are poor. Not those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, but those who are hungry now. Luke doesn’t refer to those who mourn, but to those who weep now.
Jesus never mentions the meek in Luke, or the pure in heart, or the peacemakers or the merciful. It is uniquely Matthew. It is as if Matthew’s beatitudes take a turn at mercy. A turn away from the similarities to Luke. From mercy on, it’s all Matthew. Matthew turns on mercy and heads for the pure in heart and the peacemakers and those who are persecuted for righteousness.
“Blessed are the merciful” Jesus says in Matthew, “for they will receive mercy.”
It’s not like Luke is mum on mercy. We spent too much time with Luke in Lent, Palm Sunday and Easter to arrive at that conclusion. Early in Luke, Mary sings of God’s mercy in her Magnificat. Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist sings that wonderful line, “By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us.” Luke isn’t soft on mercy; whether God’s mercy or a call for our mercy. A bit after the blessings and woes in the Sermon on the Plain, Luke’s Jesus could not have been more clear when he proclaims, “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.” And at the conclusion of the Good Samaritan, the one who was a neighbor was the one who showed mercy. But there is something about Matthew and his unique, succinct, crystal clear Beatitude. “Blessed are the merciful.” There is something about Matthew and Matthew’s portrayal of Jesus as the Great Teacher. There is something about Matthew and Jesus and mercy. It’s Matthew’s invitation for us, the gospel’s call for us, to stop and ponder it: “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”
Beyond our backyard that is behind me, is Smoyer Park. It is a beautiful park that the town of Princeton purchased with funds gifted by a Nassau member years ago. Smoyer Park is named in memory of Stan’s wife Barbara Smoyer. Since it is a municipal park, it is still open. We walk back there with Rooney three, four, five times a day these days. It’s still open but the restrictions and the notices have gradually increased. No gatherings. Keep distance. Fields closed to play. Playgrounds closed. Equipment fenced off or taken way. This week the signs went up requesting people to mask when walking in the park. We were walking back there in the rain the other day. Along the path, I could see handwritten signs taped to trees every so often. After reading various things online about “distance shaming” and dog walkers being the worst offenders, I expected all the signs to be reminders from neighbors to mask and distance. The first sign said, “We will get through this”. The next said “We’re in this together.” There must have been a half dozen or more. Written in crayon with pictures that looked like they were added by children. My favorite, “Don’t lose hope.”
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”
“Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control.” The Apostle Paul called them the fruits of the Spirit. Jesus said “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.” Matthew’s Jesus, ever the teacher, wanting to stop and have a lesson about mercy. Matthew expects the church to stop and think about it once in a while. To think about mercy. Maybe especially right now. Pondering mercy. Especially these days when it is more common to be fearful than merciful. When it is easier to be angry than merciful. When the blame and protests gets more attention than all the mercy, the abundance of mercy, the incredible mercy. Matthew’s call to think about mercy and forgiveness and kindness. So timely, so compelling. Matthew’s call to think about and to ponder, and to preserve even the most ordinary act of compassion.
A church member wrote a wonderful thank you note a few weeks ago to a person who was on staff at the facility where a loved one now lives. The member shared that upon receiving the note at work, the staff person immediately picked up the phone and called. Every one of us can imagine the stress and anxiety rushing through the veins of caretakers and all members of staff caring in every sort of place caring for our seniors. The staff member called right away with such gratitude and maybe some tears to say thank you for such an act of kindness. A most ordinary act of compassion.
Jesus says “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”
One with a narrow theological imagination might be drawn to the conditional, if-then, sound of this fifth beatitude. If you are merciful you will receive mercy God. If you are kind to others God will be kind to you. If you show compassion, God will show compassion to you in this life and in the life to come. But that understanding is just another version of works righteousness. You have to earn your salvation by works of mercy. You will deserve God’s favor if you are merciful. But Martin Luther taught us salvation could not be earned. John Calvin taught us we can never be merciful enough. And the Apostle Paul taught us that by faith we have been saved through faith, and it is not our own doing, it is the gift of God (Ephesians 2). God’s mercy is a gift we don’t earn. As my teacher and mentor Tom Long puts it in his commentary on Matthew, “True mercy grows not out of intrinsic human goodness, but from the grateful awareness that God is merciful; those who discern that God is merciful are freed themselves to be merciful.”
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”
There was a clue in last Friday’s New York Times crossword puzzle (a Friday puzzle; one way to know Dave is staying home). The clue was “product of a teachable moment.” The answer was “life lesson”. The Great Teacher in Matthew is the teachable moment maven. In Matthew chapter 9, Jesus sits down with sinners and tax collectors. It was one of those dinners in the gospel that catches your eye because you figure you might have made the guest list too. The Pharisees raise their eyebrows and try to triangulate the disciples. Jesus hears it and responds with the memorable verse about the well having no need of a physician but rather those that are sick. “Go and learn what this means”, Jesus says, “ I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” The Teacher was quoting the prophet Hosea on mercy and sacrifice. “For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings” (Hosea 6:6) the prophet said.
Jesus and the teachable moment. Jesus and the life lesson. Jesus looks for the opportunity to turn every conversation, every occasion, every relationship into a classroom conversation about the life of faith. Because of course every conversation, every occasion, every relationship matters when it comes to living in and responding to God’s love. Every occasion, every occasion, every relationship matters when it comes to thinking about and to pondering and to preserving even the most sacred, ordinary acts of compassion. Every conversation, every occasion, every relationship comes with the invitation stop and ponder the mercy of God and to hear the call and expectation of Jesus that you are to be merciful.
Friends in Christ, never forget that the volume of your piety ought not distort the tone of your compassion. I don’t have to dignify the current numerous examples by naming them. Any attempt at perfection and arrogance in your faith practice best not erase your recollection that the followers of Jesus shall forever be defined by their efforts at forgiveness and love for others. Mathew, Jesus and the call to think about and to ponder, and to preserve even the most ordinary act of compassion. A life lesson for today. Mercy.
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”