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I am not sure I could have made
it. I read about a Roman Catholic priest serving with Catholic
Charities in Lebanon. He was taken captive by Shiite Moslems
and spent 19 months in prison. Six of those months were in
solitary confinement, with his ankle chained to a wall. He
said he survived by sending up millions of prayers. I’m not
sure I could have made it.
Or there was Nelson Mandela, who
spent 3 decades in prison in South Africa. Throughout the
time, he kept his faith and his vision. That faith and vision
began in a United Methodist boarding school many years
earlier. I’m not sure I could have done that.
Or there was the Confessing
Church in Germany in the late 1930s and early 1940s. It was
the church that opposed Hitler. It was led by Dietrich
Bonhoeffer and others. Members of the Confessing Church
suffered heavy persecution and even death. One of those who
suffered death was Dietrich Bonhoeffer in April of 1944.
I’m not sure I could have borne
up under that kind of pressure. Would I honor my Lord and my
faith in such trials? Would you?
Jesus may have deliberately
saved the toughest Beatitude for last. All of the others—all
7—may be qualifiers for the final round. Like qualifying
rounds of golf or running marathons or a NASCAR race—trying to
see if you’re a finalist. Trying to see if you really have the
stuff to be in the big one. “Blessed are those who are
persecuted for righteousness’ sake… 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.” (Matthew 5:10-12)
I think Jesus knew how hard it
might be to be one of his followers. It would not be easy.
There were numerous rough roads. Sometimes they felt like they
were hitting a brick wall. There was mental, emotional,
spiritual and physical persecution. Jesus knew that his call
was from God to make God’s design plain. He also knew it might
be very difficult along the way.
There are two very special and
unique words in Scripture. One is the word “witness;” the
other the word “martyr.” One Biblical scholar remarks that by
the end of the first century, those two words were the same
word. To be a witness would probably mean being a martyr.
In the Spiritual Gifts class we
teach here, we tell you there are 25-30 named spiritual gifts
in Scripture. We also comment that there are some gifts we’d
probably rather not have. One of those gifts might well be the
gift of martyrdom.
The fact is that few of us, if
any, will ever come close to being martyrs. A little later in
the Sermon on the Mount Jesus says, “If anyone would come
after me, let him deny self, take up the cross, and follow
me.” We try to be faithful disciples. However, seldom do we
need to deny ourselves. Seldom do we need to be martyrs.
We may have some minor setbacks
along the way. It would not be too unlike the man who said
once, “I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several
days attack me all at once.”
Then there’s the story of the
man who wanted to show his wife how special she was. He had
not done anything really nice for her for a long time. So
after work one day he went into a dress shop and bought her a
new dress he knew she’d been looking at for a long time. Then
he walked across the street and bought tickets to a theater.
Then he used his cell phone to make reservations for dinner.
Finally he stopped at a flower shop and bought a dozen roses.
That night when he came home,
instead of coming in the door he usually entered, he knocked
on the front door. She answered and looked at him in stunned
surprise. He handed her the flowers and the dress. He told her
all the other things he had done. She began to sob. He was
dumbfounded. What had he done wrong? What was the matter?
She replied that she had had a
horrible day. People at work had caused constant conflict. The
boss had been on her case about a number of matters. Then she
came home and the house was a wreck. The babysitter had not
done a good job. The hot water heater had broken. And the
dishwasher had overflowed. She said, “And now, on top of
everything else, you come home drunk!”
We all have some setbacks. But
we are seldom persecuted for the sake of believing.
I used to think that being a
clergy meant some suffering. You would be paid in chickens in
lieu of salary. You would have lots of critics. You would
probably live in poorly equipped, church-owned homes. But all
of that has really not been the case. Oh, Round Table Ministry
still serves a lot of chicken, and I’m sure I have my share of
critics.
I recall having an interview for
my second church appointment in the North Hills. The district
superintendent took us to see the parsonage. It was a
beautiful home. It had been purchased by the former
Evangelical United Brethren Church, and was probably the
nicest parsonage in their entire system. As he took us to the
home, he said to Elaine and me, “Now, as you see this house I
want you to remember the old hymn, ‘Jesus, thy cross I have
taken, forsaken all to follow Thee.’”
Few of us really suffer for what
we believe. Certainly not in this part of the world. The
really righteous people—those who try to be disciples—may be
shunned a bit. You may not be invited to certain parties
(“They are religious, you know!”) There may be some
social exclusion. But not persecution.
We had a young man in this
church for a while from China. We worked hard to get him a
permanent visa for the United States. We did it because we
knew that for him to return to China would mean certain
imprisonment and probably even death. Why? Because he was a
Christian. Things are not much like that here.
So what does this text mean for
us? What does it mean for the Christian community in America?
I hear some words of challenge in this text.
LIVE ON THE CUTTING EDGE
First of all, Jesus calls us to
live on the cutting edge. Sometimes that edge is sharp. It’s
sharp enough that we can get nicked at times, or even cut.
I pondered this issue as the
matter was raised of an openly gay bishop being elected in the
Episcopal Church. Over recent days I listened to him speak. I
listened to other people speak about him. I listened to some
who know him personally. I try to listen to all sides of the
issue. Can he serve as a bishop in the Episcopal Church? How
much is he willing to risk by pursuing the course? How much
are people who support him willing to risk?
Then I read a fascinating
editorial by Tony Norman in Tuesday morning’s Post-Gazette.
Tony Norman is a practicing Christian and Episcopalian. Beyond
the issue of sexuality, he wrote these words:
The notion that a church
without a hint of schism in the air is somehow more faithful
to God is a strange one. Given the volatility of the Christian
witness through history, congregations of the faithful that
float unencumbered on a sea of placidity and moral complacency
are the ones that should be suspect.
Uncomfortable discussions
about how to live one’s faith in the world should be going on
in the church all of the time so that folks aren’t freaked out
by any one issue.
After all, Christians of
every theological persuasion are called to be faithful to a
Gospel that mercilessly interrogates the assumptions of the
age. Because the Gospel is always more radical than those who
claim to follow it, it’s guaranteed to make an [outcast] of
any person or community misguided enough to embrace it in a
futile search for respectability.
…The Gospel is an
unquenchable fire full of spiritual offense, broken glass,
blood and bitter chocolate. Because it is the only alternative
lifestyle that leads to exile, it is considered too terrifying
for the masses and too subversive for the elite. If you think
you can bear the weight of a constantly breaking heart, then
becoming a follower of the Gospel might be worth considering.[i]
Isn’t that what Jesus is saying
in this text? It’s not easy being a follower of Jesus. It can
be rewarding and exciting, but it’s never easy. It’s never
easy living on the cutting edge.
TAKE SOME CONSIDERED RISKS
Jesus also invites us to take
some considered risks. Take some risks for the sake of what
you believe. Jesus does not advocate recklessness, but he does
call us to take some risks nonetheless.
I am involved in a modest risk
right now. It’s not as controversial as the Episcopalians, but
it’s creating a lot of heat. The issue is “Orthodoxy.”
Living with diversity is a
longstanding tradition in the United Methodist Church. I have
always valued that tradition. But the cry is out there now.
United Methodists need to reclaim orthodoxy. We need to
reclaim “correct beliefs.”
I have just finished reading a
fascinating book that was published this year. It’s a book by
Dr. Tom Oden, professor at Drew Theological School, entitled
The Rebirth of Orthodoxy. Oden says that orthodoxy is
growing. He says that you, the laity, are clamoring for it.
You want the right doctrine on Scripture, or on the Trinity,
or on the nature of Jesus, or on the Atonement, or on the
Resurrection.
As I read his book, I wanted to
say on almost every page, “No, that’s not right. No. That’s
not what Jesus came to bring among us.”
Oden defines orthodoxy as
“ancient, consensual teachings of the church.” That means you
take all the teachings of the first few centuries of
Christianity, the teaching of the church fathers and the
church councils; and where they all agree, that becomes what
you must believe. Again I want to say, “No, that’s not the way
it is.”
Maybe I’m wrong. But at this
moment I’m willing to risk that I’m right. And I know a few
people who will be unhappy about that.
It’s sort of like the story
about a rabbi who set up a new voicemail system in the
synagogue. When you called the phone number, the voice mail
said this: “If you’d like to know about membership, press 1.
If you’d like to know about service times, press 2. If you’d
like to complain to the rabbi, press 3. If you’d like to
complain about the rabbi, press 4, 5, 6 or 7.”
The issue of orthodoxy is
probably why I was not elected as a delegate to General
Conference in 2004. I’ll be there anyway because I’m in charge
of the host committee, but I was not elected as a voting
delegate. However, I’m okay about that. I’m not sure that “not
being elected” is a form of suffering or persecution. It may
even be good luck. But I probably wasn’t elected because of
some of my position on this.
Jesus came to form disciples,
not doctrinal purists.
OPPORTUNITY FOR FAITHFULNESS
Jesus says in this beatitude, be
willing to live on the cutting edge, be willing to take some
risks, and then see adversity as an opportunity for
faithfulness.
If you hunger and thirst for the
right to prevail (beatitude #4), you will probably experience
some discomfort from the world. But that discomfort can lead
to greater faithfulness.
Where the English language uses
a single word “crisis,” the Chinese language uses two
different characters to form the word. One character means
“danger;” the other means “opportunity.” That is to say, the
outcome of a crisis situation depends upon the individual
response. Each crisis can become a turning point.
Vaclav Havel, the Czech poet and
former president suffered years of oppression and persecution.
Not too long ago he wrote these words: “Life without hope
is an empty, boring and useless life. I cannot imagine that I
could strive for something if I did not carry hope in me. I am
thankful to God for this gift. It is as big a gift as life
itself.”
Often persecution can lead to
greater faithfulness.
The late James Michener tells an
interesting story which forms a kind of parable. It’s a true
story. When he was five years old he lived out in the country.
The man down the lane from him had some apple trees. One day
he watched the man drive eight nails into one apple tree. “Why
are you doing this?” he asked.
The man responded, “Jimmy, I
discovered a long time ago that sometimes when apple trees get
old they quit bearing apples. They just sort of sit here and
take up space. You come back later this summer and I’ll show
you something.”
Michener came back later that
summer and saw apples hanging from every branch of that old
tree.
Sometimes adversity yields
faithfulness. Is that not Jesus’ word here?
So the Beatitudes set the tone
for our journey of faith. They give us a framework for living,
even in modern times. They are a brilliant description of what
faithful living looks like. They teach that which brings
exalted happiness beyond measure.
Set sail on the voyage of a
vibrant faith. Raise your sails. Catch the wind of the Spirit.
Catch the wind of the Spirit inherent in these Beatitudes.
Catch the Spirit and you will harness the power of our God.
[i]
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, Tuesday, August 5, 2003
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