Seeing the World Differently (Matthew 5:1-12)

The Game of Life

I remember that one of the first board games I learned, after Chutes and Ladders and Candy Land, was the game of Life. I was enchanted by this game of chance and choice. I was learning at school about the American dream, this idea that anyone could be successful in the United States if they worked hard and put their mind to it. The game of Life taught me a similar lesson. It taught me that life was about getting an education, securing a reputable job, and making as much money as I could along the way. Misfortune might arise, like home disrepair or serious illness, which could eat into my earnings, but if I had played the game judiciously I could handle it. I could stay in control, I could still move up in the world.

In a nutshell, what I learned from the American dream and the game of Life was that self-sufficiency is the goal. Life is a competition, and it’s about holding my own and winning as much as I can. Life is as good as the control I have over my surroundings. Sure, there may be the occasional hardship, but if I have money, I can pay my way through; if I have a good job and friends in even higher places, I can still get my way.

Repent Means Rethink

Last week, we read in Matthew that Jesus begins his ministry with a simple invitation: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near” (Matt 4:17). For many of us, the word “repent” is a heavy word. It sounds like a call to remorse or guilt. But as we observed last week, the Greek word metanoia is not at all dark or heavy. It just means “think differently”; or “change your mind.” I was delighted when Don pointed out to me that we can actually trace this meaning through the English word “pensive.” Someone who is pensive is thinking; repent means rethink. The kingdom of God is a rethinking of our world. To enter into the kingdom, is to see the world differently.

This is actually the heart of Jesus’ first lesson. After he begins his ministry and people begin to follow him, he sits down on a mountain and starts teaching his disciples. What follows in the next couple of chapters is known as the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7). The Sermon on the Mount is essentially Jesus’ Kingdom manifesto. It is a lesson in rethinking the world, in seeing the world differently. And it begins with today’s scripture, known as the Beatitudes, which is a list of counterintuitive blessings. Rather than review each blessing one by one, I want to reflect on the overall impression of this list.

Blessed Are the Losers?

What I hear Jesus saying, if I may be so blunt, is “Blessed are the losers.” Now that might seem a bit unfair at first. Our world appreciates peacemakers, right? They’re not losers. Our world appreciates volunteers and social workers and nurses, the people who show mercy and share a hunger for healthier relationships. They’re not losers, are they? But then I look at the budgets of the leading nations in our world, and I am reminded of where many people really place their trust: places like Wall Street and the Pentagon. Money and military might. The do-gooders can do good on their own time, but what really matters in our world is staying in control. Winning. Coming out on top. To drop the pursuit of profit or to lay down our arms would be considered foolish and weak. A loser’s move. Meekness and mercy are not profitable. Turning the other cheek and forgiveness will not win wars.

There’s a reason we usually think of the Kingdom of God as consisting entirely in the afterlife. It’s because it is simply inconceivable in this world. And yet…Jesus insists that the kingdom of God is at hand here. He prays in the Lord’s prayer that God’s kingdom would come here, “on earth as it is in heaven.”

The People Nearest to God

The Beatitudes are sometimes read as an impossible challenge, as though Jesus is charging his disciples, “Be poor in spirit; mourn; be merciful!” But it seems to me that such instruction would end up shaming a person for not measuring up, and shame is not Jesus’ way of ministering. I think it’s more likely that Jesus is describing than prescribing. In other words, he’s telling his disciples what it looks like to live in God’s kingdom. He’s inviting them to see the world differently. He’s highlighting the people who are closest to God. The people who trust in the care of God and the care of others, he says, are naturally the people closest to God and others: the poor in spirit who recognize they cannot do it own their own; the mourners whose tears testify to a loss, but even more to love and the goodness of relationship; the merciful who give without expectations of this or that. To repent—to rethink the world, to see it differently—is to see that these people are blessed. The secure and self-sufficient, the proud and the privileged, the winners and the ones in control—they do not need God. They are doing it on their own. God is near to the vulnerable, who trust in the care of God and others.

“What Is a Christian?”

A pastor friend of mine, David, used to be the director of a L’Arche community in India. A L’Arche community is a community of folks with and without intellectual disabilities who live and grow together in a spirit of radical mutuality, as peers rather than as caregiver and patient. One year while he was director, David had a handful of persons at the community who wanted to become followers of Christ.  He dutifully led them through a year of training.  They read Bible stories together.  They prayed together.  They worshiped together.

After a year, the bishop visited to meet with the candidates for baptism.  He was there to determine whether they were ready to become Christian.

Now the persons whom David had been training all had intellectual disabilities.  Their social modes of interaction were not verbal but more fundamental.  They had to do with things like eye contact and touch and bodily gestures.

So when the bishop met with them and asked the question, “What is a Christian?” they did not respond with answers that the bishop was used to hearing.  They did not respond, “A Christian believes that Jesus is the son of God.”  Nor did they say, “A Christian is one who is saved by the grace of God in Jesus Christ.”  They did not respond with words at all.

My friend, David, confesses that he was nervous when the bishop asked this question.  Would his candidates fail this test because they could not verbalize their faith in the traditional way?

But what happened next left David and the bishop speechless.  One of the candidates left the room.  In tense silence, everyone waited.

Then a moment later he returned through the doorway carrying a basin of water and a towel. 

He knelt down before the bishop.  Untied his shoes.  Washed his feet.  And dried them with the towel. 

Then he looked up into the bishop’s eyes and smiled—as if to say, that is what a Christian is.

Weakness and Foolishness

I do not want to sugarcoat the kingdom of God. The foot-washer from this story surely had endured a difficult life. As a person with intellectual disabilities, he likely had experienced more than his share of disregard, disrespect, and even disdain, for our world has no place for people like him (just as it had no place for Jesus). He is not self-sufficient. He cannot make it on his own. His life will never resemble the life of a boardgame. He could not possibly live the American dream.

Yet Jesus insists that he is blessed. That he is closer to God than much of our world.  Could that possibly be true? Could Jesus be inviting us to emulate him?

“Repent,” Jesus says. Think differently. See the world differently. And then he gives us the beatitudes. Blessed are the people who are not in control, for they must trust in God’s care. Or as Paul would later write, God’s power is here—in the cross, in our weakness. God’s wisdom is here—in the cross, where we madly, foolishly trust in the way of love (cf. 1 Cor 1:18-31).

Prayer

Confounding God,
Whose kingdom looks very different
From the dreams and values of our world—
Our quests for success, control, and riches
Leave us feeling empty and alone
…
Give us eyes to see abundant life
In broken hearts and open hands,
Where we trust in the way of care rather than control.
In Christ, whose cross is the real power and wisdom of God: Amen.