“Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him. And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying…” (Matthew 5.1,2).

For a while now in our Life category, we’ve been considering what the Son of God had to say about living the Christian life in the “beatitudes” of Matthew 5. And actually, he had quite a lot to say. Consider this summary from John Stott:

“The beatitudes paint a comprehensive portrait of a Christian disciple. We see him first on his knees before God, acknowledging his spiritual poverty and mourning over it. This makes him meek or gentle in all his relationships, since honesty compels him to allow others to think of him what before God he confesses himself to be. Yet he is far from acquiescing in his sinfulness, for he hungers and thirsts after righteousness, longing to grow in grace and in goodness.

“We see him next with others, out in human community. His relationship with God does not cause him to withdraw from society, nor is he insulated from the world’s pain. On the contrary, he is in the thick of it, showing mercy to those battered by adversity and sin. He is transparently sincere in all his dealings and seeks to play a constructive role as a peacemaker. Yet he is not thanked for his efforts, but rather opposed, slandered, insulted and persecuted on account of the righteousness for which he stands and the Christ with whom he is identified.”

There you go. That’s the man/woman who is “blessed,” according to the lips of the king.

Note that all the beatitudes are describing equally what every Christian is called to be. Even that last one that we looked at briefly last time — the blessing of being persecuted for the sake of Christ (see the June 22, 2008 post).

Apparently, whenever Christians are despised, sneered at, rejected, mocked, slandered, excluded, or persecuted, they are to receive this as an everyday mark of Christian discipleship — like being merciful or pure in heart. Those who stand with the suffering and rejected Christ in this world will occasionally know suffering and rejection themselves. Expect it.

This is frequently taught in the Bible, actually. John 15.18-25; 1 Peter 4.13,14; Acts 14.22; 2 Timothy 3.12. 

Remember the story of Dietrich Bonhoeffer? (If you need a refresher, visit the blog post from November 7, 2007.) He had a pretty good handle on this connection between Christian discipleship and suffering. Consider:

“Suffering, then, is the badge of true discipleship. The disciple is not above his master. Following Christ means passio passiva, suffering because we have to suffer. That is why Luther reckoned suffering among the marks of the true Church….  Discipleship means allegiance to the suffering Christ, and it is therefore not at all surprising that Christians should be called upon to suffer. In fact, it is a joy and a token of grace.”

In a recent article for the church newsletter I wrote that when I speak or write about suffering, I sometimes feel like Bill Gates speaking about the hardships of poverty, or Britney Spears discussing the joys of modesty. I just don’t know that I’ve experienced it all that profoundly. (Not that I’m complaining about that.)

Well, I’m not much more familiar with the harsher realities of persecution.  Aside from the neighbor who’s continually snubbed me ever since he discovered I’m a Christian (and far worse — a pastor!), I must say that I haven’t been greatly persecuted.

Perhaps that’s because (as we occasionally say in a prayer at Cornerstone) at times I have hardly make it known that I am His. 

But when the king spoke his beatitudes from the mountain, that’s where he goes next.  He moves from peace–making (see the June 17, 2008 post) to persecution.  He knew that in this world his followers would occasionally face hostility.  Some, having rejected Christ themselves, will not waste an opportunity to “revile,” “persecute,” and “utter all kinds of evil against [the followers of Christ] falsely” (Matthew 5.11).

And how did Jesus want us to meet those moments?  Matthew 5.12:  “Rejoice and be glad.”

Really? 

Yes.  As John Stott writes, “We are not to retaliate like an unbeliever, nor to sulk like a child, nor to lick our wounds in self–pity like a dog, nor just grin and bear it like a Stoic, still less to pretend we enjoy it like a masochist.”

We are to rejoice and be glad like Christians.  Jesus meant this!  (See how strongly he expresses it in Luke 6.22–23!)

In the Matthew passage (quoted below) Jesus seems to give three reasons for such a counterintuitive command.  Rejoice at persecution, first of all, because “your reward is great in heaven.” That is to say, though you may lose all things here, Jesus promises to restore all of it (and infinitely more!) when he makes all things new.

The second reason to rejoice at persecution that comes to us “for righteousness’ sake” (Mt.5.10) and “on [Christ’s] account” (Mt.5.11) is because it is a mark of the authenticity of your faith.  As Jesus says here, “for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” As uncomfortable as it is, persecution is often an indication of Christian faithfulness.  “If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you” (Jesus in John 15.18).

Thirdly, we can rejoice when people slander, revile, snub or exclude us because we are suffering this, as Jesus says, “on my account” (v.11).  If you are slighted by men because of your loyalty to Christ and his truth, rejoice.  Be assured that God sees.  He knows.

Oh, to have the instincts of the apostles, who — after being beaten for the name of Christ — “left the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name” (Acts 5.41).

But still… this is a difficult word.  So we’ll pick it up again next time we return to our “life” category.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  Blessed are you when others 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 so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”
Matthew 5.10–12

The prophet Jeremiah tells us that it’s the work of a false prophet to proclaim an easy and painless message of “Peace, peace!” when there is no peace (see Jeremiah 6.14; 8.11).  Peace is not easy.  Nor is it painless.

In fact, true peace is actually quite difficult and hard won.  Consider the words of theologian John Stott, as he reflects on the pain that is frequently involved in the work of peacemaking…

“When we are ourselves involved in a quarrel, there will be either the pain of apologizing to the person we have injured or the pain of rebuking the person who has injured us.  Sometimes there is a nagging pain of having to refuse to forgive the guilty party until he repents.  Of course a cheap peace can be bought by cheap forgiveness.  But true peace and true forgiveness are costly treasures.  God forgives us only when we repent.  Jesus told us to do the same: ‘If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him.’ How can we forgive an injury when it is neither admitted nor regretted? 

“Or again, we may not be personally involved in a dispute, but may find ourselves struggling to reconcile to each other two people or groups who are estranged and at variance with each other.  In this case there will be the pain of listening, of ridding ourselves of prejudice, of striving sympathetically to understand both the opposing points of view, and of risking misunderstanding, ingratitude or failure.”

But regardless of the pains or inconveniences, all Christians are called to be peacemakers.  “Blessed are the peacemakers,” the King said, “for they shall be called sons of God” (Matthew 5.9).

The Bible speaks about this often — see 1 Corinthians 7.15; 1 Peter 3.11; Hebrews 12.14; Romans 12.18.  In the family, in the workplace, in the community, and in the church Christians are to be bent on peacemaking.  Note that this is not just a call to passively be in favor of peace, in which we refrain from being responsible for any strife or conflict.  It’s more than that.  It’s a call to peaceMAKING.

Think of the work of Christ in the gospel.  He was not just passively in favor of peace between God and man.  He actively, self-sacrificially sought “to reconcile”… “making peace by the blood of his cross” (Colossians 1.20; see also Ephesians 2.15).

Jesus is the Ultimate Peacemaker. 

Indeed, consider again the particular blessing that is commanded over peacemakers in the beatitudes:  “they shall be called sons of God.”

Mark Twain once said, “Sincerity is everything.  If you can fake that, you’ve got it made.” Twain’s trademark cynicism often makes for witty observations about life in this fallen world, but the idea of faking sincerity is so pathetic that one can hardly smile for blushing.  Why do we blush?  Because we know the shame of fakery, play–acting, and wearing different masks to fit the occasion in which we find ourselves.

But King Jesus — when he gave his followers the kind of straight talk that we all long for, in the Sermon on the Mount — said, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God” (Matthew 5.8).

Pure in heart.  Sincerity.  Living one life and living it out in the open before everyone.

This is not so easy to pull off as we’d like to believe.  If you reflect on it deeply for even a couple of minutes, you’ll think about the different masks you’re tempted to wear, according to the situation or circumstances. 

How many of us play different roles depending on the audience?  Are we truly one and the same person for the spouse, the children, the church, the boss, the pious friend, the foulmouthed friend, the neighbor, the relative who thinks this way, the relative who thinks the other way, the enemy, and the stranger?  To cite a trivial example perhaps, are we the same driver regardless of whether the officer is following us or not?  Or something not so trivial at all — are we looking at web pages of the same character when we’re alone as when we’re in public? 

When we put on different masks, this is not reality, but play–acting.  It is the essence of hypocrisy.  Many people find themselves weaving such a web of deceit and insincerity around themselves that even they can no longer tell which part of them is real and which part is make believe. 

But Jesus calls his people to lives of single–minded sincerity, free from the wearying schizophrenia of a divided self.  He calls us to be pure in heart, both in our relationships with God and with man.  He calls us to be free from all falsehood.  He calls us to transparent lives of utter sincerity, in public and in private. 

This is the freedom and wholeness to which Christ calls us… lives without guile, where thoughts, words, actions, and motives are pure and unmixed with hidden deceits. 

This is the kind of purity that Jesus is interested in — the “in heart” purity.  Just as the kind of poverty he was interested in five verses earlier was the “in spirit” poverty.  The emphasis here is inward, moral, heart–righteousness… as opposed to outward, ceremonial, rule–righteousness. 

King Jesus is no fan of mere rule–righteousness.  He had a few choice words for that kind of hypocrisy — see Matthew 23.25–28. 

Only the pure in heart will see God.  If this is so, then we need to daily run to Jesus Christ.  He alone is without guile; he is the only man who is absolutely pure in heart.  May we be found in him, growing into his likeness.

Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord?  And who shall stand in his holy place?  He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is false and does not swear deceitfully… Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being, and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart… Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me… Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart… And God, who knows the heart, bore witness to them, by giving them the Holy Spirit just as he did to us, and he made no distinction between us and them, having cleansed their hearts by faith… The aim of our charge is love that issues from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith.
—The Holy Scriptures

The Bible teaches us that human sin and guilt have certain inevitable consequences:  pain, misery, distress, etc.  The presence of pain, misery, and distress in this world offers us ample opportunity to demonstrate the beauty of mercy.

But that’s not our natural inclination in the face of pain, misery, and distress.

Our tendency is rather to insulate ourselves against all of the trials and tribulations of other people (see Luke 10.30–32).  Our tendency is to find revenge delicious when we feel that someone has wronged us (see 1 Samuel 25).  We kind of cheer when someone says to the bad guy, “May God have mercy on your soul, because I sure as *#$@ won’t.”

But consider the mercy of King Jesus.  How often do we see him healing, helping, extending relief to the miserable, the sick, and the outcast?  And do you remember what he prayed about those men who were hammering him to the tree?  (See Luke 23.34.) The angels themselves must have looked at one another in utter astonishment… “Did you hear what he just said?”

King Jesus shows mercy.  And the faithful citizens of his kingdom must follow him here too, for the king has decreed:  “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy” (Matthew 5.7).

That is the king’s command.  Those who show mercy find it.

Those who pretend to live under the banner of the king but aren’t showing mercy may one day find that they’ve been climbing a ladder that’s been leaning against the wrong wall (see Matthew 18.21–35).

Rest in the mercy of Jesus.  It’ll grow on you.

The picture used above is of the USNS Mercy anchored off the coast of Jolo City, Philippines, in June 2006. The Mercy’s staff assisted thousands of local citizens with medical and dental care. U.S. Navy photo by Chief Photographer’s Mate Edward G. Martens.