Loading...Sermon for the 4th Sunday after the Epiphany
29 January 2017
The Rev. Matt Rowe
Matthew 5:1-12
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
SERMON AUDIO
When I have spare time I enjoy tinkering on projects around the house. You probably wouldn’t want to hire me out, because my projects don’t always go as planned, but sometimes I do alright. I even pitched in some on the project we are sitting in the middle of this morning.
When it comes to the part where skilled craftspersons will be employed in putting it all back together again, I will give way, watch them work,
and take a few photos.
Some projects call for the use of power tools, and I’ve been known to get sidetracked by a tool that won’t start up when I pull the trigger or press the button or flip the switch. More times than I would like to admit it has been because I missed one simple, but vital step. In order to function, the tool must be plugged into the outlet. It’s amazing how much that little step does to facilitate productivity.
Get plugged in. That is the message to us on this 4th Sunday after the Epiphany. In this season we are hearing of the early days of ministry for Jesus, which began with his baptism, after which he began to go about proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and calling a group of disciples to leave their former lives behind and follow him, which today leads up a mountain, as a great crowd throngs about, and Jesus sits down, in classic rabbi fashion, to give a sermon, probably the most profoundly beautiful and supremely challenging sermon ever given. We know it as the Sermon on the Mount, and it takes up the whole of the 5th, 6th, and 7th chapters of Matthew, until Matthew finally tells us in the opening verse of Chapter 8 that “he came down from the mountain.”
We’ve heard only the introduction, classically known as “The Beatitudes,” statements about the blessedness imparted on those who follow Jesus. While there is a crowd gathered, Matthew is clear that Jesus is speaking to his disciples. They are the ones who have given up all to follow him, and thus are entering into the kingdom that he inaugurates. While his words are for the disciples, Jesus probably intends those in the crowd to listen in and be intrigued enough to decide that they want to follow him, as well.
By the usual standards, these pronouncements of blessedness don’t seem all that blessed. “Poor in spirit,” totally aware of one’s absolute dependence upon God. “Those who mourn,” who look around at all the ways the circumstances in the world fall short of God’s dream, and they mourn with God. “The meek,” who insist on acting with gentleness, behaving with humility in the midst of this “look out for #1” world. “The hungry and thirsty for righteousness,” so filled with a desire for God’s justice, the divine activity that restores wholeness to community and brings about the proper balance between personal and common good, that they seem emaciated until it comes to pass. “The merciful,” those who show compassion, who forgive, “as God forgives.” “The pure in heart,” whose interior motives are without guile. “The peacemakers,”
who endeavor to bring harmony where there is discord. “The persecuted,” who are harassed and threatened for living by values that go against “the norm.” “The reviled,” who are mocked, scorned, and subjected to false accusation by those to whom blessedness is foreign.
How do these words of blessedness fall on our ears? Familiar? Natural? Native? Foreign? Irrational? Idealistic? How we hear them depends upon whether or not we are plugged into the power source. “
The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Cor. 1:18). If we are not plugged into God’s power source, the cross of Christ, the words of the Beatitudes are to us like a power tool we forgot to plug in, not very useful.
Living a life that is blessed in the way Jesus describes means entering into the mystery of the cross, embracing the holy foolishness of the gospel of a crucified savior, who stretched out his arms to bear the full weight of every burden, every sin, every injustice, everything that distorts our relationship with God, our relationship with one another in the human family, our relationship with God’s created order, taking on himself the weight of it all until it bled the life out of him and “he suffered death and was buried.” If that were the end of the story, it would be foolishness, but “on the third day he rose again,” bringing new life to us, leaving all that is death dealing entombed, stripped of its power, void of its sting.
Entering into the mystery, the sorrowful mystery of the cross, means also entering into the mystery, the joyful mystery, of Resurrection. We follow Jesus into his death and he leads us through the darkness into the glorious light of his resurrection.
The way of the cross. It is “foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God,” the power source of the blessed life Jesus described on a mountainside one day in Galilee.
