June 1, 2008 – The Third Sunday after Pentecost
Matthew 7:13-29
Grace and peace to you from God the Creator and the Lord Jesus. Amen.
Several years ago I had the privilege of serving as a voting member at the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America churchwide assembly in Orlando. Several thousand of us participated in that assembly, and on the first day, as is fitting with a church gathering like that, we began with worship. We all crowded into a gigantic auditorium at the convention center, and as we settled into our places I found myself seated next to a distinguished-looking older gentleman – goatee, gold-rimmed glasses, suit – whom I thought looked familiar but whose name eluded me.
So as waited for worship to begin I turned to him, stuck out my hand and said, “Hi, I’m Roger.” He looked back, smiled, stuck out his hand and said, “Hi, I’m Ralph.” We started a conversation, during which I managed to sneak a look at his nametag. I had indeed seen him, or at least his picture, several times before. His name was Ralph Klein.
Ralph Klein is one of this church’s foremost Old Testament scholars and is a prominent professor at our seminary in Chicago. I said, “Dr. Klein (I had decided to drop ‘Ralph’ by then), I’m sorry, but I have to tell you – you don’t look much like your picture. You bear a faint resemblance, but you really don’t look like your picture.”
My question to you this morning is this: Do you look like your picture, the picture God has of you, the picture God carries in God’s heart; or is there only a faint resemblance?
That question hovers over this Gospel lesson, in which Jesus concludes a rather lengthy sermon. It’s the Sermon on the Mount, and it occupies three chapters in Matthew’s Gospel. In that sermon Jesus has proclaimed the Kingdom of God, and he has talked extensively about the sort of conduct God desires from those who would enter and occupy that Kingdom.
Jesus has dictated a code of conduct that is unimaginably difficult. He has said things like, “You have heard that you shall not kill. You received that command in the 10 Commandments (that is what our First Lesson this morning is all about: Moses cautioning the people that they are to continue to observe God’s law as they enter into the Promised Land). But in addition, I say that you are not even to harbor anger in your heart against another, or to hurl insults at another.
“You have heard that you are not to commit the physical act of adultery. But I say that you are not to even allow that thought to enter your heart.
“Not only are you to love your neighbor; I say you also are to love your enemy.
“Don’t store up for yourselves treasures here on earth; instead, by your commitment and dedication to God, store up for yourselves treasures in heaven.
“Don’t be anxious about your life (and Jesus said this at a time when, for many people, anxiety about daily life ran very high); instead, trust God above all.”
Jesus said all of these things in relation to God’s law, that this sort of conduct was what it meant to keep God’s law, both the letter of the law and its intent. If it all sounds difficult, Jesus said, that’s because it is: I haven’t come to make life easy, haven’t come to abolish God’s law or to soften it, not one bit; in fact, I’m the living fulfillment of the law. I am what it looks like to live a life that is righteous. If you would live that same kind of life, follow me.
And now, in these verses, he brings his sermon to a conclusion by offering up two starkly different ways of life that lead to two opposite destinations. In a culture like ours, which values complexity and nuance and intricacy, which puts a premium on multiple choices and a vast diversity of perspectives, Jesus speaks in imagery that is refreshingly simple and straightforward.
Human life, he says, is a daily journey toward one of two – not more – destinations along one of two – not more – pathways. There is the narrow gate and the challenging path that leads to life; and then there is the wide gate and the easy path that leads to death. There are leaders whose lives reveal commitment to God; and then there are leaders who talk a good game but who will not walk the talk. There are those who on Judgment Day will stand before God and with pride point to their many accomplishments but whose inner disposition is one of self-reliance; and then there are those who inner disposition is one not of self-reliance but God-reliance because they have recognized and acknowledged their self-insufficiency. Both types of people, Jesus says, can lead lives that produce wonderfully good works; but only the one who humbly seeks after God will be recognized by God and welcomed into God’s eternal kingdom.
What Jesus is after here is integrity: outward action that perfectly mirrors an inner orientation to God. That’s the picture God has had of you ever since your baptism. Do you look like your picture, or is there only a faint resemblance?
That kind of integrity, Jesus says, is difficult to achieve, and difficult to maintain. But it is worth it.
Later this week a number of our junior high students and their adult sponsors will travel to Sky Ranch, an incredibly beautiful facility high up in the Rockies, for an entire week. One of the activities that will be available to them will be a variety of hikes. The first time I went to Sky Ranch, over 10 years ago now, I listened as the camp staff ran through the menu of hikes, paying special attention to those hikes they described as “challenging.” Challenging? I wondered. What could be challenging about a stroll in the hills? I signed up for a “challenging” hike.
At this time of year, early June, there are still several feet of snow in the passes. The terrain, uneven. The assent, almost vertical. Several times I questioned my sanity for signing on to this adventure. But when we reached the top and stood there, seemingly at the top of the world, surveying some of the most breathtaking scenery I’ve ever seen, I knew that it was worth every difficult step of the climb.
The way to which Jesus calls us is the way he himself walks: the narrow gate, the challenging path. And it leads to life.
In the first century, when the Christian movement was just beginning, Christians were often called atheists. We were called atheists because we refused to worship the gods of the dominant system, the Roman Empire. Caesar, for example, claimed for himself the title of messiah, of son of God, because he saw his role as being divinely ordained. We Christians, of course, worshiped only Christ, crucified and raised from the dead; and therefore were denounced as atheists.
I wonder how many of us today would qualify for the term “atheist” when it comes to the gods of our culture. You know the ones I mean; the ones who appear to be so popular and solid, but prove out to be flimsy and undependable.
Think of the foundations on which we tend to build our lives. There’s the foundation of Materialism. That one washes away as soon as economic crisis hits and personal fortunes change. There’s the foundation of Power, which evaporates as soon as the political climate changes. There’s the foundation of Self, what makes Me happy. That melts away as soon as we discover that life is a lot bigger than we ever suspected, which usually happens when we encounter and experience for ourselves one of life’s deep mysteries, like the birth of a child.
And then there’s the ever-popular foundation of Security. Several years ago Congress approved the expenditure of $22 billion to repair the levee system in and around New Orleans, the levee system that gave way after Hurricane Katrina came ashore, the system that collapsed and led to the flooding of so much of that city and to such a tremendous loss of life. So the repairs of those levees got under way.
It was recently reported, though, that those newly repaired levees are leaking. They aren’t holding the water back, and water from the Gulf is seeping back into some of the neighborhoods, which is leading to fears of another disaster if another hurricane comes ashore. That news came as no surprise to many, though, because New Orleans is built on top of reclaimed swampland; the foundation of the city is basically unsteady. Which leads to a very commonsense, obvious question: Why rebuild in the same place?
In fact, that was the question we had when we traveled to New Orleans for a series of mission trips a couple of years ago, to help rebuild some of the neighborhoods there. During a work break one afternoon we actually asked a couple of the homeowners that very question: Why rebuild here?
This is our home, they said; this is what we know, it’s where we belong. Our families go back here generations; why, some of the street signs bear the names of our families. We’ve been here since the city was first created back in the early 1800s. Leave? We can’t leave. This is where we belong.
It is so difficult, isn’t it, to leave the familiar, the known? Even when the familiar has proven to be unreliable, unstable.
Difficult, but it’s possible.
Last Thursday’s Kansas City Star published a feature story about a program by the Missouri Division for Youth Services which focuses on youthful offenders. Missouri’s program is turning out to be a model for the rest of this country because it’s so successful; while other states report a rate of return among youthful offenders at nearly 50 percent, Missouri’s is only 7 percent. The program in Missouri emphasizes, not punishment of young offenders, but a combination of counseling, supportive staff and, above all, thorough and excruciatingly painful self-discovery and self-awareness on the part of the young people.
The story highlighted a 17-year-old young man named Terrance, who decided that his life as a gang-banger was headed nowhere and that he wanted a different future. Terrance embraced this program, bought into it fully, let it shape him – and now is a spokesperson for it. What Terrance really did was to reject a life script that had been handed to him by a small segment of youth culture in favor of a different life script, a life-giving plan of action that held promise and great potential. It’s a tough choice to maintain – Terrance knows that the old ways and the old life are always there, calling to him – and that doing so is a daily struggle. But so far, he’s maintaining.
What an excellent metaphor for the choice and opportunity we face as followers of Jesus Christ, to leave behind foundations that are unreliable and unstable in favor of the only foundation that is secure and enduring.
In our baptism, Jesus calls us to the narrow gate and the challenging path, and he promises to walk that journey with us. In fact, Jesus’ last words to us in Matthew’s Gospel are these: “And remember, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”
The picture God has of us is of a people who believe that promise and who live as if it were true, a people whose inner and ultimate reliance is on God and God alone. Do you look like your picture, or is there only a faint resemblance?
The picture God has of us is of a people who daily choose to build their lives on the solid rock that is Jesus Christ, and nothing less. Do you look like your picture, or is there only a faint resemblance?
Yes, we have a choice, whether to build on rock or build on sand. But the best news of all isn’t that we have a choice; the best news of all is that Jesus Christ is the rock, yesterday, today and forever. No matter what foundation we’ve chosen in the past, through the gift of grace, God has given us the ability to claim Christ as our foundation, to live into the picture God has of us and not settle for being merely a faint resemblance.
People of God, choose the narrow gate and the challenging way; choose the foundation that is Christ; choose the foundation that has already chosen you. Let God’s picture of you come fully – fully – to life!
Amen.
