The Blessed Life: Paying the Price
DATE: October 19, 2008
SCRIPTURE: Matthew 5:1-12
Almost any day of the week you can pick up a newspaper and read about the difficulties faced by various religious groups. It's not unusual to read about Jews, Muslims or Buddhists being tormented by one group or another. We've grown used to such stories. But what still strikes us as unusual is when we see stories about Christians being persecuted for their faith. Just this past Monday the Times carried two such stories. On page one, there was a very long account of Christians in India being forced by extremists to convert to Hinduism. People have been killed, homes destroyed and churches burned to the ground. (NY TImes, 10-13-08, A-1, A-9)
In the same issue, there was another story about Christians in Iraq who are being systematically violated and driven out of the country. In recent weeks 485 Christian families have fled from Mosul in the wake of violence. (Ibid, A-8)
While these stories of persecuted Christians certainly unsettle us, and perhaps surprise us as well, Christians in the first century would have thought it all very commonplace.
Matthew's gospel, which includes the recounting of the Beatitudes, was addressed to 1st century women and men who were struggling to maintain their Christian identity in the midst of the Roman Empire. Their radical adherence to monotheism, their refusal to honor Caesar by offering incense at the Roman temples branded them as traitors and heretics. Oddly enough, because those early Christians refused to believe Caesar was divine, they were even called atheists! As a result, they faced a variety of Roman punishments. They were crucified, tortured, and fed to the lions at the Coliseum. In their day and age, it was a given, being a Christian was risky at best. Standing up for your faith, living out of your beliefs, meant facing the prospect of persecution.
No doubt, then that these final words in the Beatitudes would have been most comforting. For they reassured them that they stood in a long line of faithful people who stood by their beliefs and fought for what they felt was right. "Blessed are you," said Jesus, when you are persecuted . . . for so they persecuted the prophets before you." Or, as Eugene Peterson paraphrases it: ". . . know that you're in good company. The prophets and witnesses have always gotten into trouble." (The Message, 1751)
Yes, we can see how this beatitude might have provided comfort in the first century, yes we can understand its applicability in modern day Iraq or India, but we may have a hard time seeing its role in our lives. After all, we live in America. We are free to worship as we please. We can believe or not, as we so choose. Indeed our religious freedom is guaranteed by the constitution and protected by the courts. And this is Westport. We pride ourselves on interfaith cooperation and conversation.
So, you may ask, what's this Beatitude got to do with me? How does it apply in my life? We aren't likely to be thrown to the lions—and no one is going to try and run us out of town. Compared to the first century world of Rome, compared to other parts of the world today, our time and place seems very safe, and relatively easy!
But that may be the very challenge we face as twenty-first century American Christians. Jim Forest observes, "Social; creatures that we are, we unconsciously adjust our practice of Christianity to fit within the limits imposed by the society we live in . . . ." (The Ladder of Beatitudes, 142-143)
Forest is probably right. At times we bow to cultural norms. At times we live as if we'd never heard of Jesus.
But what about those times when we really do place God first, and love of neighbor above self-interest? Then we may indeed face persecution of a kind.
On the job, the boss asks you to do something unethical, to cheat a customer, to fudge the books; do you live out of your Christian beliefs and do the right thing? If you do there may be risk, you could be fired or denied a promotion. In these troubled economic times, there's no guarantee of another job. Living out of your Christian convictions can carry a real risk.
When you're out with friends and someone spouts off and tells a racist joke, do you speak up? If you do, you risk alienating your buddies, or looking like a prig.
Even at home it can be a challenge. Do you say no to your spouse's suggestion to cut corners on taxes? Do you welcome new neighbors to the block even if they are different from the norm? If you follow your convictions at home, there may be squabbles; you may be given the silent treatment.
This Beatitude reminds us that being a person of faith is no walk in the park. This beatitude reminds us that speaking up on behalf of the downtrodden carries a measure of risk. This beatitude reminds us that living out of your convictions can be very hard.
But, says Jesus, when you do, you are blessed. Mind you he doesn't say you will be blessed. He says you are blessed. Here. Now. It's not about some distant future. The kingdom of heaven, the knowledge and peace that comes with doing things God's way is a present reality.
A couple of weeks ago I went into my bank to deposit a check. The teller asked to see my driver's license. Now I have been a customer of this bank for seven years. No one has ever asked for my license, and I was rather put out. I got a bit snippy with her, but eventually showed her my license.
After I left the bank I went to a meeting with some friends, and happened to mention the incident. I was feeling rather guilty about it. So I committed to going back to the bank and apologizing to the teller.
And so I headed from the meeting to the bank. When I got there, she wasn't at her window. In all honesty, I was a bit relieved. I wouldn't have to go through with it! Bu then she appeared out of no where. So, I went up to her, and said, "Hi, do remember me—the check, this morning?"
You could see her tense up. Oh no," she must have thought, "It's him again!"
"No, no," I said, "I'm just here to apologize. I shouldn't have been snippy with you. Your were just doing your job."
She breathed a sigh of relief—"I'm new here," she said. "In timer I'll recognize you."
And so she smiled. And so did I. I had done the right thing. And I experienced a taste of the kingdom. And a bit of God's peace.
I understand, risking embarrassment in a bank lobby is hardly the same as others face. But it's a start.
"Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven."
Rosa Parks was persecuted for righteousness sake. Back in 1955 she famously refused to kow tow to an unfair law and give up her seat at the front of the bus. In doing so she took a real risk. But she knew nothing would change unless she took action. "I did not feel any fear sitting there," she wrote in her autobiography, "I felt the Lord would give me the strength to endure whatever I had to face. It was time for someone to stand up—or in my case, sit down. So I refused to move." (Rosa Parks: My Story)
And so it was, that things began to change. The Civil Rights Movement took off, and in time many wrongs were made right. And we, as a nation, moved closer to realizing true equality for all. Indeed, this very year, a black man runs for President, a woman for Vice President. And that has happened because everyday Christians like Rosa Parks acted on their faith, and took the risks of acting on their beliefs.
In the Beatitudes Jesus singles out people we might otherwise overlook: the meek, the grieving, the persecuted and calls them all blessed. In the Beatitudes he reminds us that we that God's realm, the kingdom of heaven is greater than we can even begin to comprehend. And we are told it is our task as Christians to work for righteousness despite the risks. It is our task to work for that day when peace and justice prevail. That day when all are made welcome. It is our task to champion the truth. It is our task to stand up for those who are oppressed and those who are excluded. It may be risky, but it is our calling. It is what it means to be a Christian. It is what it means to live a blessed life.
Amen.
John H. Danner