Following Jesus:
A Sermon Series for Lent
Matthew 5:1-12
First Sunday in Lent
We
know these words well, maybe too well.
On the surface, these words of blessings, these Beatitudes sound so unassuming,
seemingly harmless, comforting, assuring. We find them on plaques and
refrigerator magnets, offering inspiration, aspiration, offering hope. Depending upon the occasion we can lift out
the verse that we need to hear or offer that truth to someone who needs to hear
it. “Blessed are those who mourn, for
they will be comforted” (Mt. 5:4).
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God”
(Mt. 5:9). Each of the blessing statements can stand on their own. The Beatitudes are made for Twitter; they’re
eminently Tweetable. Each one fits quite nicely into a tweet.
Go
below a surface reading of the text, however, go into the Greek, connect the
text to the rest of the Sermon of the Mount, connect the sermon to the rest of
Matthew’s Gospel, and we discover that things are not that simple—or harmless
or all that comforting. Well, they are comforting, but not in the way we
usually expect.
Behind
the English “blessed” is the Greek word makarios,
which is notoriously difficult to translate.
Makarios can be translated as
“blessed,” but it can also mean “blissful,” “happy,” “fortunate,” or “flourishing.” Blessing-statements or macarisms, as they’re known, were not unique to Jesus; they were
widely used in Second Temple Judaism of the first century, as well as throughout
the Greco-Roman culture. The Greeks used the word makarios in their mythology to describe the life of a human being
who lives like the gods, beyond care, beyond labor, beyond death.[1] In other words, makarios describes what a blessed or happy life looks like.
There’s
another reason to know the backstory of this word, makarios. Between 300-200 BC, the Hebrew scriptures were translated
into Greek, into what is known as the Septuagint. This Greek translation was
used widely by Hellenized Jews shaped by Greek philosophy and culture, although
it was considered inferior to the original Hebrew text. This is because, in
part, the Jewish worldview does not sit easily within Greek culture. The early
Christian theologian Tertullian (160-220), aware of our roots in Judaism, famously
asked in his Prescription Against the
Heretics, “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” Nevertheless, Greek ideas shaped Jewish (and
later Christian) thought.
We can see
this in Psalm 1. “Happy are those who do
not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread” (Ps.
1:1). “Happy” could also be translated
“blessed.” What we need to know is that
in Hebrew there are two words for “blessing”: there’s beraka, which is God’s act of blessing, and there’s asre, which describes the happiness, the
blessedness of human life in relationship with God, walking in the way of God.
Here in Psalm 1, the Hebrew is 'ašrê. It’s
describing a life that is in relationship with God. And when the Hebrew scriptures were
translated into Greek, they chose makarios
for 'ašrê. It’s
important to know this because, as Jonathan Pennington reminds us that the “English
term ‘blessed’ is so heavily loaded with the narrower sense of ‘divine favor’
that the sense of human flourishing is almost always lost.”[2]
The
Judaism of the Second Temple, the Judaism of Jesus and Matthew, was heavily influenced
by Greek thought, was driven by this question: what does a good life look like?
What does a flourishing life look
like? And here in Matthew’s Gospel we
find Jesus offering “blessing statements,” but reframes their meaning in light
of his vision and mission proclaiming the coming realm of God. In other words, Jesus wants his followers to
know that when we follow him, yes, we will be blessed, but more significantly,
we will discover what human flourishing looks like—but remember, too many, human
flourishing, from Jesus’ perspective, will look odd, bizarre, different, even
scandalous.
And
there’s another problematic Greek word here; it’s the word, hoti, often translated “for.” “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs
is the kingdom.” The use of the word
“for” in each statement creates the impression that these descriptions of
blessedness will be experienced one day, in the future. It’s also easy to read or hear these verses
as saying: If I am poor in spirit, God
will bless me, and then I will enter the kingdom. If I am meek, then I will inherit the
earth. If I am pure in heart, then I
will see God, etc. If I live this
way, I will be blessed. If we took a
poll, my guess is that the majority of us have read it this way. If “p,” then “q.” The problem, however, is
that this “if-then” approach is a “flat,” one might say even boring way of reading this text.
So,
what if we translate hoti (for) as
“because,” which would also be correct. When we translate the Beatitudes this
way, and use “flourish” instead of “blessed,” everything changes.
Flourishing are the poor in spirit because
the kingdom of heaven is theirs.
Flourishing are the mourners
because they will be comforted.
Flourishing are the humble because
they will inherit the earth.
Flourishing are the ones hungering
and thirsting for righteousness because they will be satisfied. Flourishing are the merciful because they
will be given mercy.
Flourishing are the pure in heart
because they will see God.
Flourishing are the peacemakers
because they will be called the children of God.
Flourishing are the ones persecuted
on account of righteousness
because the kingdom of heaven is
theirs.
Flourishing are you whenever people
revile and slander you and speak all kinds of evil against you on account of
me. Rejoice
and be glad….[3]
When?
Now!
Why?
Because
right now that future, God’s future is already on the way and is at work in us
when we live this way, because it’s at work in Jesus, and he wants us to know
what human flourishing looks like.
But
it’s a tricky word, flourishing. Some might define flourishing as achieving
wealth, property, power, influence, possessing many things in a process of
endless growth. It’s a word easily coopted by prosperity gospel preachers.
However, the counter-cultural element is clear in what Jesus is saying.
We
are flourishing when we are poor in spirit because we are acknowledging our
spiritual poverty, confessing what we lack, what we need, that we are all
beggars before God.
We
are flourishing when we mourn—that’s a tough word to hear. Many who mourn don’t
see themselves as flourishing. However,
Jesus is calling his followers to a different kind of mourning, mourning for
the present state of things, grieving for the injustices in the world, for what’s
happening to children and families at the border, grieving for our communities,
our families, mourning for the poverty of Baltimore City, mourning for those
who have sold their souls to wealth and possessions. We will be comforted
because this kind of mourning and grieving, ironically, can lead us to a fuller,
richer life because it calls us to action, to change.
We
can go through the rest of the beatitudes with this view, especially
“Flourishing are the peacemakers because they will be called children of God.” We
flourish when we are advocating for peace, making peace real, suffering for the
sake of mercy, hungering for righteousness. And if we’re not living this way, then from
Jesus’ perspective we’re not flourishing at all—and we’re probably wasting our
lives.
We’ve
been working through the Sermon on the Mount on Thursday mornings. I’ve been
blown away by Jonathan Pennington’s new study, published last year, which has
opened my eyes to the meaning of the Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus
not only tells us, he shows us what a flourishing life looks like.
And
Pennington opened my eyes to see what I had never noticed before. Each of these beatitudes also describe the
life of Jesus. He lived a flourishing life because he was poor in spirit, and
he mourned and grieved for our waywardness and ignorance and inability to
flourish; he was meek, and he hungered for righteousness, for justice; he was
merciful and lived with a single-hearted devotion to God’s claim on his life;
he was a peacemaker, and he was persecuted because he was a servant of the Most
High; he was ridiculed, mocked, and eventually killed for wanting to show us
the things that make for life, for real life, for joy. Yes, even joy.
Scripture calls us to look to him, “…who for the joy that was set before him
endured the cross, despising its shame, and is seated at the right hand of the
throne of God” (Heb. 12:2). Jesus invites us to follow him into a richer, fuller
life, and he enables us to actually live this way.
And
all of this is all connected, as we shall see in this series, to what might be
(and I think that it is) the linchpin of the Sermon, Matthew 5:48, “Be perfect,
therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Except, the Greek should not be
translated “perfect”—“perfect” is an unfortunate translation of the Greek teleios. This word is better understood
as meaning “whole” or “complete.” What Jesus wants us to be whole-hearted, even
as God is whole-hearted. Jesus tells us that when we live this way we discover
what a flourishing human life looks like, can be like.
I
agree with Pennington who believes, “A close and careful reading of the Sermon
of the Mount will help the church recover the profound and pervasive theme of
human flourishing in God’s redeeming work in the world.”[4]
Christianity, like Judaism, is a way of life—it
must not be reduced to doctrine and ideas and concepts, on the one hand, or
reduced to moralistic “do-goodism,” on the other. To follow Christ, to claim
him Lord, is to follow in his way; it’s it about the totality of a life in
the life of the Kingdom. We’re called
into the kingdom of God, here and now; and in the Kingdom we discover what a human life looks like when
it’s flourishing.
This
is what Jesus is summoning us toward.
It’s the same call that summons us, every day. Not to “live up to this” way of living, or
“think like this or that, and then we’ll live well.” It’s easy to slip into a
works-righteousness and think it’s all about what we have to do. Yes, grace
always comes first. But, then virtue, the
good life, a richer life itself follows in its wake.
And,
so, Jesus invites us to live into this vision, lean into grace, lean into this
future, and when we do we’ll discover what human flourishing looks like. It
will be unique for each person, but it will definitely stand in sharp contrast
to a world (and, yes, sometimes even the Church) that doesn’t understand mercy
or justice or peace or a heart devoted to God’s vision of wholeness. We might even be persecuted for living this
way, we might be laughed at and mocked and ridiculed. Some might even consider
us scandalous. Probably will. But, so
what? Who cares, really?
Don’t
worry. When we’re flourishing, as we’ll
see next week, we get to be salt and
light in the world in the world. We get
to be visible signs and heralds God’s new world that is on the way toward us
and now is. And this is what matters
most.
This sermon is part of a six-week Lenten series:
Following Jesus: The Sermon on the Mount
March 10: Are You Flourishing?
March 17: Becoming Salt and Light
March 24: Wholeness, Not Perfection
March 31: Matters of the Heart
* * *
This sermon is part of a six-week Lenten series:
Following Jesus: The Sermon on the Mount
March 10: Are You Flourishing?
March 17: Becoming Salt and Light
March 24: Wholeness, Not Perfection
March 31: Matters of the Heart
[1] Jonathan T. Pennington, The Sermon on the Mount and Human Flourishing: A Theological Commentary
(Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2017), 46. Throughout this sermon, I am heavily
indebted to Pennington’s recent scholarship on Matthew 5-7.
[2] Pennington, 50.
[3] This is
Pennington’s translation of the Beatitudes.
[4] Pennington,
309-310.
No comments:
Post a Comment