A Different Kind of Peace

Matthew 5:1-12

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. And he began to speak and taught them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

What more is there to say about the Beatitudes, truly? When it comes to passages like this one, ones that are so famous, so lovely, and also, so straight-forward, it feels like both a blessing and a curse to preach on them. A blessing because of the beauty and relevance; a curse because, what can I say that someone hasn’t said before? What can I say that doesn’t seem totally obvious or might make us think differently? I think part of this is that I’m putting too much pressure on myself. I don’t know that I’ve ever had an original thought in my life, all that we do and say, and think has been influenced and inspired by all those who came before.

 

But I wonder if, because these are so familiar, and so lovely, especially when we just read them at sort of a surface level, we take them for granted. If we’re regular church goers, regular Bible-readers, we know that these are the tenets of Christ’s teachings—the meek being uplifted, the mourning being comforted, the reviled being beloved—when we’re in this comfortable bubble here in this sacred space, those new commandments are obvious, and as far as I can see from you all, are adhered to. And in the context of this, the Sermon on the Mount, perhaps the disciples were thinking this way too. After all, this differs from Luke’s version of this story, which is the Sermon on the Plain: in Luke’s version, Jesus is speaking to the crowd, to whoever wants to listen. In this version, he leaves the crowds to go up to the Mount, and only his disciples follow. Maybe they didn’t realize how broad, how radical Jesus’ call was since he was only speaking to them at the time (and we will see time and time again that his disciples, indeed, do not fully understand the work Jesus is doing). Maybe for some of us, when we’re here in this safe and sacred space, it’s easier for us to take these new commandments to heart because it’s easy to be kind to each other here, in this space where we know we can come for love and support.

 

But it goes so much deeper and so much further than that. I mentioned last week that Matthew puts a great deal of emphasis on texts and prophesies from the Old Testament. It is no different in the Beatitudes—for instance, the beginning of Isaiah 61 inspired “Blessed are those who mourn,” inspired by a time in Isaiah in which the people’s spirits and their homeland had been destroyed, and they were despairing. Similarly,  Psalm 37 reads, “…the meek shall inherit the land / and delight themselves in abundant prosperity,” clearly the inspiration for “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” You see, Matthew purposely uses a Greek word than can mean either land, or earth, pulling from the Psalm, but then broadening it. Because remember, just a few verses after our passage for today ends, Jesus says very clearly, “Do not think I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill.”

Jesus is taking these Psalms, and the prophets of old, and he’s expanding upon them, he’s making it bigger, and he’s making it new. And these Beatitudes—these are new commandments to add and to enhance the old ones. They are commandments about mercy and about love, and about humility. They’re about what is possible, what will happen, when the reign of God is real on this earth.

 

There’s no way one can read the Beatitudes without getting a warm and hopeful feeling. They’re beautiful words about all the injustices in the world being obliterated, about turning the oppressive way the world worked then, the way the world still works now, and turning it on its head. But as usual, it’s more than all that. This is not just comforting reassurance, but it’s also a call to action.

 

I noted earlier that Matthew references Isaiah 61, when he says Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Now, I’m guilty of using this verse from Matthew when I officiate graveside services, and I say I’m guilty, because by doing that, I’m really taking it out of its proper context, which is something I really try not to do—because this is taken from Isaiah, it’s about a people mourning a way of life that once was, it’s people mourning injustice and oppression; so it’s not about someone mourning the death of a loved one, as many of us (myself included) are often wont to read… so this is really about seeing the big picture, seeing the world for what it really is— it’s about recognizing that the world we live in is broken, that there is work to be done to make the world Christ talks about and promises real—the world he’s talking about in our passage today—one in which the meek are uplifted, when those who hunger and thirst for what’s right will be sated.

 

Last week, I stumbled upon a righteous and fiery statement from Matt Moberg, the team chaplain for the NBA’s Minnesota Timberwolves. He did not hold back. “Stop using scripture like chloroform,” he writes, “Stop calling your fear wisdom. Stop pretending Jesus was crucified because he preached good vibes and personal growth. You don’t get to quote scripture like a lullaby while injustice stays wide awake.” The part that really caught my attention though, with respect to our scripture for today, was when he writes,

There is a kind of peace that only exists because it refuses to tell the truth. That peace is a lie. And lies don’t grow anything worth saving. The scriptures weren’t written to keep things calm. They were written to set things right. And sometimes the most faithful thing you can do is stop praying around the pain and start standing inside it.

 

Blessed are the peacemakers, Jesus says. Another clear-as-day, palatable statement—the peaceful will be blessed amidst God’s reign. But it’s so much more than that. This was all happening during the so-called Pax Romana, a 200-year period in which there was technically no war. So was Jesus saying blessed are the Roman centurions for “keeping the peace”? The rich and oppressive empires for handing orders down to make sure any dissent or rebellion is quashed? No. Of course not. Because peace, true peace, true shalom, in the Biblical sense, which is what Jesus was talking about, is about more than just peace vs. war. Shalom was about true harmony, cooperation, ensuring the safety and welfare of all people. Things were not truly peaceful under the Roman Empire. So Jesus saying “Blessed are the peacemakers” is both a radical insult to the Romans, challenging their perverse notions of peace; and it’s also a call to action—blessed are the peacemakers—blessed are those who work for a better world, blessed are those who don’t accept the brokenness, the oppression, the violence; blessed are those who mourn for what the world could be and then actually do something about it.

 

One probably wouldn’t immediately associate the Beatitudes with Moberg’s righteously angry statement—one is an (on the surface) ancient, calming sermon about the better, the perfect world that is possible, and the other is a wholly modern statement of a man who is clearly at the end of his rope regarding the situation in Minneapolis, and false piety and harmful rhetoric from those around him who purport to also be followers of Jesus. But the way I see it, Moberg’s statement is deeply Biblical. It is a direct result of seeing people actively ignore the Beatitudes, actively ignore the call to be true peacemakers. When I said Moberg’s statement was fiery, I meant it. It also includes this: “Peace isn’t what you ask for when the boot is already on someone’s neck. Peace is what the powerful ask for when they don’t want to be interrupted.” See, this is exactly the kind of so-called peace that Jesus and his disciples were dealing with—the “peace” of the Pax Romana, the “peace” that the Romans forced onto their subjects with military might and violence. That’s not the kind of peace Jesus wanted, and therefore, it’s not the kind of peace we want. No. We want Shalom. 

 

The theologian Cornelius Plantinga describes the biblical concept of shalom like this:

The webbing together of God, humans, and all creation in justice, fulfillment, and delight is what the Hebrew prophets call shalom. We call it peace, but it means far more than mere peace of mind or a ceasefire between enemies. Shalom means universal flourishing, wholeness, and delight…

We can be sure that universal flourishing and delight wasn’t happening in Jesus’ day under the boot of the Roman Empire. And we can be 100% sure that it is certainly not happening now.

 

The Beatitudes are a reminder that the world can be better. They are a reminder that the kind of world Jesus is ushering in. They are not a list of requirements to get into heaven, as one might think. Similarly, you’re not expected to take a vow of poverty or to be some kind of doormat, letting people walk all over you for the sake of being meek. Meek in this context does not mean submissive; it means humble. It means having humility before God. So the Beatitudes are both assurances of what the world will be when God’s reign is here, as well as new commandments, new guidelines of how to be in the present world in order to usher that new world in.

 

I think our passage for today is easy to hear in a church. I think this passage is easy when, for this sacred hour, we put aside the outside world and listen to Jesus’ comforting and radical words. But we are called to live these words outside these doors. We are called to live these words always. And in a world that rewards bombast over humility, military might over peace, ruthlessness over mercy, it’s hard to live the Beatitudes outside these doors. But that’s why we do have this hour to take them in. That’s why we do have this time to really ponder what these familiar words mean for us in today’s world. Maybe that’s why Jesus led the disciples away from the crowds to give them these new commandments—to make sure they had the time to really take them in and realize what a deep commitment it was to be a follower of Jesus.

 

Jesus says: Blessed are the peacemakers. Matt Moberg, Timberwolves chaplain says, “Don’t call silence ‘peacemaking.’ I hope we can all go from today promising to continue to follow Jesus by being rabble-rousing, defiant, righteous peacemakers out in the world. I hope we all go from today promising to be humble and compassionate in the midst of it all. I hope we can all go from today mourning what the world is now, but comforted by Jesus’ promise that it doesn’t have to be like this. I hope we can all go from today knowing that the Beatitudes are a call to action to usher in an earth as it is in heaven. Amen.

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