Note

Imonk discusses some of the same issues we've been talking about. I like what he has to say.

Touching the Son of Man

My first answer to the first verse of this passage

17 “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.

 is that Jesus is not saying "I haven't come to abolish the Law, so you better still try really hard to keep them." Which is where one reading of it take us.  We have a couple different possibilities I guess. The first refers to how his audience will begin to reinterpret what they have read all their lives in the Law and Prophets.  He's recontextualizing them within himself.  They will begin to see this come to fruition between his resurrection and ascension, as in Luke 24:44 and Acts.  But this is complicated by the fact that he continues by saying:

18 For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. 19 Therefore whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven.

Yeah, this does get a little sticky, doesn't it? I mean where's the Gospel here? That's always the question I'm trying to ask with passages, but I'm not sure I get this one.  Confounding it further is that he goes on to describe exactly how the Pharisees' righteousness isn't enough, and that true righteousness as something like a "circumcision of the heart," something that comes from one's desires, not simply one's behavior.

I recently heard someone say "I want  to store up as many crowns in heaven as I can." To which I mentally responded, "that is so not the direction you or I need to go in, bro."  But here Jesus is referencing "least" vs. "greatest" in the Kingdom. Would he have something different to say? Is that a factor in our pursuit of true righteousness? That's a bit scary too because every time I begin to think about that kind of thing, the Kingdom of Heaven becomes bad news.

Bob's right, the Reformation answer to this passage is easy, but does a number on the actual words of Jesus.  I have to assume he had a particular message for the folks on the hill at that very moment.  He wasn't saying "look, eventually you'll have the entire canon of Scripture to qualify my words with. Then you'll really understand."  The good news here might be buried, yet I'm convinced that it's here. These passages on "true righteousness" might be the key to some kind of paradigm shift that he's trying to give us(them).

First, worship has to do with relationship and reconciliation.  

23 So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you,24 leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift. 

Second, lust = intent.  

28 But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.

Next, divorce is not as easy as it was before.  Stay married except on the grounds of adultery.   

32 everyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of sexual immorality, makes her commit adultery

Display the grace of God by not retaliating and not treating your enemies like enemies. 

44 Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.

All of these are deeper interpretations of the Law than was found on the surface of the Scriptures. And all of them have to do  relating to people all of them have to do with "seeing" people differently than you would before if you were to commit the sin.

If he's concerned with lawkeeping, it seems to be laws in relation to how you interact with other people. He confirms this later when he says that loving God and your neighbor is the sum total of the entire Law. Of course, this may not be news to Christians who've been reading his words for some time, nor does it make the task any easier. It does however, make it easier to think about.  I'm reading Exodus and Leviticus right now...what kind of masochist would spend their life memorizing and keeping these statutes? At least that's my thoughts as a 21st century softie.   Jesus consolodates it all nicely for us, now I'm able to conceptualize things much more easily.

But there's still the problem of keeping  it. I come away from the Sermon no more able to do the things he's asking of me.  Modern Protestantism's reduction of everything to believing a set of statements, and "justification by faith and not by works" doesn't, at least in its core doctrinal presuppositions, give us much to work with in the way of practicing love(and I realize I'm avoiding any analysis of the best of Protestantism here).  One thing I've noticed in Jesus' ministry is that he didn't really give us a coherent doctrine of justification, or an anthropological explanation of how right faith produces right behavior. There are hints, but mainly his focus is on himself. For instance, if John's Gospel were the only thing we had to work with, we would have a very robust Gospel, but it would look much different than the "legal standing" emphasis of protestantism.

As N.T. Wright says, we aren't saved by believing in justification by faith, we're saved by believing God in Jesus.  My way of listening to the Sermon on the Mount right now is this: Jesus is about to give them something that makes the path he's laying out here...visible.  He's about to spend the bulk of his ministry talking about himself. Even in Matthew with the emphasis on Kingdom, keep it in mind with reference to the King himself.  And in John, anyone who says the things Jesus says would be considered an outright megalomaniac. He's the point of his ministry. He himself is the grace that is necessary to keep these commandments.

I'm reading some things about Eastern Orthodoxy, and they have some serious(and valid) complaints about Protestantism. For them, justification is not the issue. For them, theosis, or deification of man, meaning the mysterious union of man with God, is the effect of the Gospel.  Look at the end of the Sermon:  

28 And when Jesus finished these sayings, the crowds were astonished at his teaching, 29 for he was teaching them as one who had authority, and not as their scribes.

In other words, he's the source of these teachings. He didn't need, like all Jewish teachers, to validate his teaching with historical writings or rabbinic tradition.  He was enough.  Here's what I'm getting at: grace as a conceptual, floating theory, does only a certain degree of good in my knowledge of Jesus and the Kingdom. What Jesus gives us in the Sermon on the Mount, if we use our five senses and not just our intellect, is a picture of himself.  Knowing Jesus, the Son of Man, is unlike grasping any sort of doctrine or truth(even the "in your heart" kind).  It's more like touching someone, hearing his voice, and eating supper with him.

If I see someone, and like him, I'm much more likely to be able, motivated, and ready, to do difficult things for him. Maybe things I'm not sure I'm capable of. This is a very "natural" spin to it, but Jesus' approach to me is notably both natural and supernatural-  We use five senses, and brotherly affinity to approach him, and God does something we never could, nor could we even describe.

But that's ok, cause that part's not our jurisdiction anyway. 

Please explain

Here's a question for you guys. I'm going to juxtapose two passages, both spoken by Jesus, both concerning who may enter the kingdom of heaven. The first passage is in Matthew 5:

17 “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. 18 For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. 19 Therefore whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20 For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

The second passage is recorded in Matthew 18:

“Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

Looking at these two passages, you can conclude that having a righteousness that exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees is like being a little child. Can one of you explain how these two things fit together?

Wretched man that I am!

Hi guys. Sitting here on a Friday morning, reading the opening chapter of the sermon again, reading John's last post again. And remembering how as a young Christian I was always kind of disappointed when I read these lines of Jesus:

17 “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. 18 For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. 19 Therefore whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20 For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

But wait, I remember thinking, doesn't that go against all that evangelical preaching about Christ lifting our burdens, etc.? Isn't the law our burden? And if Christ lifts it, what is this talk about my righteousness needing to exceed that of the Pharisees? I know the pat answer here. It is the righteousness of Christ imputed to me through faith that allows God to see me exceeding the righteousness of the Pharisees, even though, in fact, with regard to the law, I don't.

That's the right reformation answer, but the simple fact is that Jesus doesn't actually say that. In fact, he goes on to say, Don't get angry, don't lust, etc., and to define those things in a very uncompromising way.

So here I am, on the hill with Jesus. All I know is, Jesus has captured my attention in some definitive way so that, like Peter, I would testify that he is the hope of the world, the One for whom I have longed and waited all my life. And here he is at the end of the chapter summarizing his argument by saying to people who hunger and thirst for righteousness, be righteous. Be perfect. As your heavenly Father is perfect.

Is this Jesus planting hunger and thirst for righteousness in his listeners? Stirring them to a vision of holiness that includes radical self-sacrifice and even the willingness to endure persecution for the sake of it?

I think it's something like that. Adding what we know about the purpose of the death of Jesus to what we read here, we have to consider the possibility that his dying to make us righteous speaks of more than "imputed" righteousness, as wonderful and essential as that is. There is no indication in Matthew 5 that Jesus is talking about anything other than righteous living.

And that has always filled me with dread. Because . . . I'm just saying . . . this standard that Jesus sets up in chapter 5, it's just a wee bit daunting. I've got to jump ahead (in time) to Saul of Tarsus, who seemed to have the same daunted feeling at times. Among the many things he says in Romans 7 is this:

5 For while we were living in the flesh, our sinful passions, aroused by the law, were at work in our members to bear fruit for death. 6 But now we are released from the law, having died to that which held us captive, so that we serve in the new way of the Spirit and not in the old way of the written code.

And serving in this way, the fruit we bear now can be the fruit of righteousness.

OK, so back to our primary text. Jesus says at the start of this passage that he fulfills the law. I'm sitting on the hillside wondering, how can a man do that? And also thinking, if any man can do that, this one can. And totally in the dark as to the full ramifications of his statement . . . that in fulfilling the law he will fulfill the requirements of justice, which will be, when it is finished, the most awful and the most wonderful moment in history. Sitting on that hillside, I am not ready for that. I know myself. When that moment comes, I will run away and hide in the dark, and weep in the knowledge of my own cowardice and sin.

I cannot fulfill the law. Only Jesus can. And he did. So if I hunger and thirst, maybe, for fulfillment of the law, it is Jesus I hunger and thirst for. Hungering and thirsting, helplessly I look to Jesus. As Paul said, again in Romans 7

24 Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? 25 Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!

Checking in

Just stopping by to let you guys know I'm still around and will soon be back in the swing of things. I'm still excited about this blogging conversation!

Open Heart Surgery, with a spoon.

As we continue our eclectic discourse with “the teacher”, we now entered into a section that can be appropriately titled: “you have heard it said”. For our first course we will be served a hearty plate of paradigm shattering concepts addressing the topic of anger. The cliffs notes might be summarized by saying Jesus likens anger and insults to the act of murder and says that they are liable to judgment and the fire of hell!

So, because I am sure there are many excellent commentators who have written many, many books on the exegetical context of this passage, I think I’ll spend time attempting to pull a plank out of my own eye…

A spiritual mentor once told me that a good way to gauge my comprehension and embrace of the Fathers agape love is by observing my thoughts and reactions when driving. He said: “do you want an indication as to whether or not you believe the father loves you? Observe your reaction to slow and incompetent drivers while rushing to get somewhere”. As I began thinking about this concept I quickly admitted my frustration with bad drivers and incompetent behavior. Honestly, the term frustration is a far cry from my real feelings; the truth is I absolutely hate incompetence, both in myself and in others. It makes me furious.

A perfect example of this could be found in an event that occurred last Tuesday when I pulled my car into a no-parking zone. I needed to load up a heavy box of clay and accidentally locked my keys in my car while it was still running, then as I searched for the hidden key I realized my wife had used it and failed to put it back.

Forgetfulness, non-efficient methods, irrational behaviors and bad directions drive me mad. It’s like my emotions become a pressure cooker building up, and although I often feel like placing my hands around the neck of countless numskulls who cross my path daily, I have mastered the craft of “Christian behavior modification”. Unfortunately I am usually oblivious to this deep-rooted hatred and when/if I do become aware of it I often succeed at convincing myself that my thoughts are justified. I mean really, is it my fault that I work with a bunch of lazy, good for nothing slackers who cant seem to accomplish the most trivial of tasks?

This type of thought pattern, which is pervasive throughout our society, makes perfect sense according to rational logic, however stands in direct opposition to the Gospel of Grace. Just as Christ called the Scribes and Pharisees a bunch of hypocrites and whitewashed tombs, he says to me: façade, façade, façade. Although controlled by deep breaths, hypocritical prep-talks and pharisaical veneers, it’s all a masquerade. My disease-infected heart is filled with bitter rage and hidden by a thick layer of religious camouflage. The outside of my cup is clean but my inside is often more wretched than a mountain mans spittoon. Judgmental condemnation and curses fill my heart as I look upon failures, slackers and those who just can’t get it right.

Now comes the how and why questions. How can a person who claims to embrace a message of grace and peace, so powerful that it transformed a ruthless assassin into a faithful disciple who gave his life away, become filled with such anger and hate? Why is it so easy for me to become pissed off because grandpa took a tad bit too much of his medicine before driving to the bingo lodge?

Thankfully the answer to this question is fairly simplistic, yet incredibly profound. I hate because I feel hated, because I fail to truly believe my daddy loves me. The most judgmental people are always those who feel most judged. Condemned people find it natural to condemn others; likewise, loved people find it natural to love. People who stand firm in the gospel of grace haven’t much need to cuss and swear when they make a mockery of themselves, because they find not their value in outward appearances and achievable results but in proclaimed truth.

And this is the truth… I am a new creation in Christ, the old has gone and the new has come. I have been crucified with him and it is no longer me who lives but him who lives in me. Therefore, there is now no condemnation for my incompetence because I am made perfect by the blood of the Lamb. I am free to embrace, love, accept and forgive because I am totally embraced, loved, accepted and forgiven.

Hungering for righteousness.

So I'm thinking about righteousness, and I actually wrote a post first on my personal blog (a couple of days ago) starting from "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness."

There, I just wanted to talk about how this beatitude, like the others, is problematic. Apart from Jesus, apart from a knowledge of him, and a consequent desire for him, our hunger and thirst will always be for other, lesser things. More bluntly, we will hunger and thirst for things that serve the body only ("their god is their belly", Phil 3:19). All of us have been there.

I said, "apart from Jesus," God's requirement that we hunger and thirst for righteousness is a problem. Look at Jesus' depiction of the fulfillment of the law in the rest of chapter 5. It's a picture of real righteousness, and it is utterly daunting. Do I hunger and thirst for it? Sometimes? A little?

So, apart from Jesus, our hunger and thirst is questionable. But seeing Jesus, perhaps, our hunger and thirst is transformed. Thomas Chalmers, a 19th century Scottish preacher, wrote a little piece called The Expulsive Power of a New Affection. Essentially, he says we will not stop loving sin until our love for sin is replaced by a love for something greater, more beautiful and attractive and desirous even than sin. Something so much more wonderful that, when it comes to sin, our own preference would be to cut out an eye or lop off an arm rather than to continue as before.

Bottom line: Christ has that expulsive power. He is the more lovely object of desire. We look upon Jesus, and the bindings of all lesser things fall away. To hunger and thirst for righteousness is to hunger and thirst for Jesus:

• 2Cor 5:21 -- For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

He is our righteousness. We hunger and thirst for righteousness when we hunger and thirst for him, and we only hunger and thirst for him because we have tasted and seen that he is good. And finally this hunger and thirst will result in complete satisfaction: that is, the object of our desire present with us forever.

I suppose I have lots of competing hungers in me. Right now I'm hungering for breakfast, but I'm also hungering to spent time with Laurie and Nate, so maybe I'll wait till they get up and walk down to the diner for breakfast with them. Competing hungers, but the latter is lovelier by far than the former. I have no trouble making that choice.