The third in a series of three sermons given by Dr. Ralph Blair at the 2011 Preaching Festival held in Ocean Grove, N.J.
Six years ago, we celebrated the 1604 launching of the King James Version of the Bible. After six years’ work on translation, the King James Bible was published. 2011 marks the 400th anniversary of that publication date. Since we already celebrated the 400th of the launching, we’re skipping celebration of the publishing. But, at least in passing, and as we continue through Jesus’ Beatitudes and arrive this morning at the one on “peacemaking”, let’s note that King James took for his own motto, the Latin version of this Beatitude: “Beati Pacifici”, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” And his reign was pretty peaceful.
Jesus said:
How fortunate are peacemakers, for they will be called God’s children.
Whatever peace this world enjoys, it’s never without disharmony, distress and hostility, too. And even aside from violent crime and atrocities of war, this world’s precarious peace is disturbed every day by racial rivalry, inter-identity group animosity, pit bull politics, Twitter tantrums, school bullying, interpersonal intimidation, family feuds, divorce, continuing estrangement of former friends and on and on it goes. Every bit of this strife is rationalized by a self-serving self-righteousness in which, as a leading sociologist notes, “no emotion can be too angry and no exaggeration too incredible.” (Alan Wolfe) But, of course, it’s been this way since the self-righteous rebellion in Eden – and it certainly never disappeared during the reign of King James.
In secular Greek, eirene, the word for “peace”, meant only the cessation of strife. And, of course, the cessation of strife is certainly preferable to its continuation. But, in the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible, eirene became synonymous with “well-being”, with “health” and “security” under the grace of God. The Greek term thus became closely aligned with the Hebrew, shalom.
Then, in the Greek New Testament, both shalom and eirene, become personified. They were personified in Christ Jesus who is “our Peace”. “Our Peace”, himself, gives peace. But, as he himself said, it’s “not as the world gives” peace – say, through military might or the pressure of power politics. No. Christ’s peace comes by neither armed aggression nor arm-twisting. And, it’s far beyond the Hebrew Bible’s focus on a this-worldly cessation of conflict. It’s achieved by a total resolution of humanity’s hostility toward God in God’s incarnation in Jesus. In him, all enmity is abolished and God’s everlasting shalom is established at last. (Eph 2:14ff)
So, when we read this Beatitude about the good fortune of peacemakers, we must keep in mind that the crux of real peacemaking is the Christ of the cross. We need to avoid misconceptions of peacemaking that fail to consider the sin that brought on the catastrophe, and the crisis that reached its crux at Christ’s cross. The peacemaking of his fortunate followers is neither a naïve pacifist’s pretense nor a petty appeasement that only makes things worse.
Moreover, as it’s expressed in a warning I’ve often cited from F. F. Bruce, the peacemaking Jesus has in mind is not “the same sort of thing, albeit in a religious idiom, that the United Nations [has in mind] in a nonreligious idiom.” I’ve coupled what Bruce said with a quote from Helmut Thielicke. Said Thielicke: “When theology says only what the world can say to itself, it says nothing. The feet of those who will remove it are already at the door.”
The peace of Christ’s peacemakers is their Peace, himself, Christ, himself. Our peacemaking is the passing of the peace that he is. And we’re so privileged to be even specifically pacific – in both word and in deed. Our peacemaking is passed along on the basis of the Good News that, as Paul put it, “in Christ, God was reconciling the world to Himself, not counting our sins against us. (II Cor 5:19) John affirmed, “He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for our sins, but also for the sins of the whole world.” (I John 2:2) Because of this all-encompassing peace, this reconciliation with God in Christ, for us and for the whole world, we’re free to be free to pass this peace to each and to all.
And how do we do this? How do we pass the peace? We do it in word; we do it in deed. We do it in our sharing of Good News of reconciliation and peace with all who are coping with so much estrangement and hostility in their everyday lives. And we get to do it the way John Wesley urged that we should – by “doing all the good we can, by all the means we can, in all the ways we can, in all the places we can, at all the times we can, to all the people we can, as long as ever we can”. Our very good fortune to be privileged to pass along this peace of Christ is a full-time calling to blessing.
Then, Jesus said,
How fortunate are those who are persecuted for doing what’s right, for the reign of God is theirs. How fortunate you are when others make fun of you, hurt you and spread lies to discredit you – and all because of me. Be very glad, because God’s own realm is your destination.
Speaking of this Beatitude, the Welsh doctor and great preacher in the pulpit of Westminster Chapel, London, used to caution: “There is certainly no Beatitude that has been so frequently misunderstood and misapplied.” (D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones) He correctly noted: “It does not say, ‘Blessed are they which are persecuted’.” It says: “ ‘Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.’” And Jesus added that that blessed persecution is, “because of me.”
First, we can all too easily feel sorry for ourselves when we think we’re not being treated as we want to be. We can all too easily turn the notion that we’re being picked on into picketing that we’re being “persecuted”. That serves our sense of self-righteousness very nicely, doesn’t it? We make it a big story of injustice – and we don’t mean the injustice we’ve just then done to others by exaggerating what we assume they’ve done to us. We don’t get that it might be about our own bad birdies of self-pity coming home to roost.
So no wonder this Beatitude tends to get twisted into a rationalizing proof text for a self-serving whine. It’s been going on all through history. But it’s been given a fashionably big boost in our own era of entitlement schemas and our addiction to a victim mentality that can be lucratively litigated.
The “persecuted for righteousness” are not the thin-skinned who make fools of themselves. Obnoxiousness doesn’t count for righteousness. Being a jerk isn’t doing what’s right. Being a nuisance isn’t “standing up for Jesus”. And being bad-mouthed for being on the Right isn’t bad-mouthed for being in the right nor is left out on the Left, left out for Jesus’ sake.
Back in the 1950s, Lloyd-Jones said: “If you and I begin to mix our religion and politics, then we must not be surprised if we receive persecution. But,” said this great evangelical preacher, “I suggest that it will not of necessity be persecution for righteousness’ sake.” This wise pastor illustrated the difference between a sanctimoniously presented political position and a Christian witness by referencing the day’s allegedly “Christian” anti-communist crusade. He noted that, “The Christian faith as such is not anti-communist”, and he went on to lament: “If once we give [communists] the impression that Christianity is just anti-communist we are ourselves shutting and barring the doors, and almost preventing them from listening to our gospel message of salvation. Let us be very careful, Christian people.” Isn’t his council just as applicable nowadays in the allegedly “Christian” antigay crusade? Sadly, polling finds that the first thing that comes to the public’s mind when thinking of today’s “Christians” is an antigay agenda? What a biblical blunder the self-righteous have committed! What a false gospel they’ve hawked! To paraphrase Lloyd-Jones: If once we give gay folk the impression that Christianity is just antigay we are ourselves shutting and barring the doors, and almost preventing them from listening to our gospel message of salvation. Let us be very careful, Christian people!
Unlike the case in each of Jesus’ other Beatitudes, Matthew’s text expands and expounds on the good fortune of those who are privileged to suffer persecution for righteousness. Thus, we read: “Blessed are you when people insult you, and persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you, because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”
Again, as in the initial term, “for righteousness sake”, we have a similar term in the exposition: “because of me.” Jesus underscores again that he’s not talking about everyday trouble that’s anybody’s lot in life. He’s talking about serious trouble brought on by serious identification with him.
After all, who but a maniacal tyrant would put any effort into harassing a merely nominal Christian? But anyone whose life centers in Christ as Lord of all, whose whole lifestyle is oriented around Christ and Christ’s priorities, is judged to be a serious threat to any would-be lord, to any other agenda. And, naturally, such a total commitment to Christ is seen as a threat to all postured self-righteousness. So, self-serving accusations are bound to be hurled at those who are seriously serving Christ and, as self-serving, they’re bound to be malicious as well as false. And, as were the religious leaders of Jesus’ day, there are attempts to entrap through ridicule and ridiculous speculation that reveals, as Jesus said back then, they know neither the Scripture nor the power of God. (Matt 22:29) Or as Jesus’ brother Jude noted, “they speak abusively against what they don’t understand”. (Jude 10) And Paul reminded Philippians that such suffering for Christ was even a gift: “To you it’s been given on behalf of Christ, not only to trust in him, but also to suffer for his sake.” (Phil 1:29)
Jesus, himself, gave us a clear heads-up on all of this? He explained to his disciples: “If this world hates you, know that it hated me first. If you were of this world, the world would love you as its own; but since you are not of this world – as I chose you out of this world – the world hates you.” He asked them to remember his saying to them, “ ‘No servants are greater than their master.’ If they persecuted me, they’ll persecute you, too. … And they’ll do this to you on my account because they do not know him who sent me.” (John 15:18ff) You see, even our being persecuted for righteousness isn’t really about us – it’s about Jesus and his Father.
Jesus also gave us a warning about the other side of this coin of predictable persecution: “Woe to you, when all speak well of you, for so did their fathers speak well of false prophets.” (Luke 6:26)
Something of what Jesus meant is, perhaps, illustrated in what New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof wrote in appreciation of many evangelicals. He began by accurately noting, that, “in these polarized times, few words conjure as much distaste in liberal circles as ‘evangelical Christian’”. He brought up the antigay bigotry of Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson as a big reason for liberal hostility. But then, Kristof, who self- identifies as “not particularly religious”, went on to say: “It sickens me to see [evangelical] faith mocked at New York cocktail parties.” He explains that, in his international “reporting on poverty, disease and oppression, he “stands in awe of those [evangelicals] I’ve seen risking their lives [on] the front lines, at home and abroad, in the battles against hunger, malaria, prison rape, obstetric fistula, human trafficking or genocide.” He says that, “some of the bravest people you meet are evangelical Christians (or conservative Catholics, similar in many ways) who truly live their faith.” He concludes his column by recognizing that, “religious people and secular people alike do fantastic work on humanitarian issues – but they often don’t work together because of mutual suspicions.” He then proposes that, “If we could bridge this ‘God gulf’, we would make far more progress on the world’s ills”, and he quips: “that would be, well, a godsend” – small “g”.
There’s no doubt Kristof meant his column to be a good word for the good work he’s personally seen evangelicals doing to relieve suffering around the world. And yet, can his colleagues and the guests at all those sophisticated Manhattan cocktail parties – from their disadvantaged worldview within an intellectual insularity and biblical illiteracy – really be expected to change their minds about Christians or the truth of the Christian faith? Without the divine intervention that Kristof deems so unnecessary, the partygoers can no more change their minds than can those secular change agents he mentions.
Notice what Kristof admires in evangelicals on the front lines against the “world’s ills”. It’s the dedicated work they put into humanitarian causes that inspire him and other secularists. But in his musing on what he thinks should be dispensed with in humanitarian efforts by evangelicals, he fails to appreciate that it’s the heart of their motivation to do what he admires they do. He laments what he calls the “God gulf” between evangelicals and secularists and thinks that so much more good could be done without it. He’s right to take note of the “God gulf” but he’s wrong to dismiss it as dispensable. His proposal for closing the gulf is simply a bridge too far.
It’s this “God gulf” – unbridgeable but by Jesus – that Jesus assumed would provoke inevitable persecution for righteousness. It’s the very sundering he spoke about when he said: “Don’t think I’ve come to send peace on earth. I’ve not come to send peace; I’ve come with a sword. (Matt 10:34) This sword is Jesus’ word – that word that, for instance, says he’s the Way, the Truth, the Life and that nobody comes to the Father but by him. (John 14:6) His word fractures families, rends relationships, splits churches, divides friend from friend and separates societies. Hostility to his word is no doubt hiding behind some of even the legitimate criticism secularists voice against Christians. Followers of Christ stand on one side of this “God gulf” and the opposition – whether called “Christian” or secularist – stands on the other. It can’t be otherwise.
What prompted people to persecute Jesus? Was it his healing the blind and lame, feeding the hungry or raising the dead? No! It was his claims: He and the Father are one, (John 10:30), unless people eat his flesh and drink his blood, they’d have no life (John 6:53) and other outlandish statements – if not true.
Secularists say: “How intolerant!” But, hold on! Every truth claim is intolerant. It has to be. When even the most postmodern secularist claims there’s no real Truth – only one’s own “truth”, his truth, her truth, that truth claim, too, is intolerant! What’s more intolerant than saying: “I define what’s true. Truth comes down to what I say it is.” This was never more nonsensically put by a very intelligent guy, than when Steve Jobs advised Stanford grads: “Don’t be trapped by dogma, which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice.” Did he mean for them to buy into or to ignore the “dogma” and “noise” of his opinion? Intolerance is inescapable!
Besides, intolerance is not the real issue. To both the postmodernist and to Jesus, the real issue is truth. Ironically, way back in 1st century Jerusalem, it was a proto-Postmodernist named Pontius Pilate who asked Truth, Himself, “What is truth?” And what did Truth, Himself, reply to cynicism? Not a word.
Well, persecution for righteousness need not duplicate atrocities of Nero’s burning Christians alive to light up his stadium or tossing them to beasts to be torn to shreds for the amusement of his audiences. It can top them. And it has. And it’s going on elsewhere, even as we worship here, undisturbed.
We’re made for worshipping God, but we so readily choose to worship idols. As Dylan sang: “It may be the devil or it may be the Lord, but you’re gonna have to serve somebody.” Said Steve Jobs: “You have to trust in something: your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever.”
In the same month and year in which I was born, historian S. K. Padover was reporting on atrocities being carried out in Nazi Germany – against both Jews and Christians. All the arrests and disappearances – the murder of millions – all of it was rationalized by the Nazi adaptation of a defensively Nordic myth. Its Germanism as Religion disdained Christianity for having, “sprung from the Jewish proletariat”. A Nazi propagandist asked: “Can there be anything lofty about a religion whose god came into the world only for suffering and who died on the cross the ignominious death of a criminal? The greatest evil that Christianity has perpetrated is surely its dogma of human equality. Shall we Germans be put on the same level as Negroes, Fiji Islanders, Eskimos or Jews?” (Hans Weidler) A top aide to Hitler said: “Adolf Hitler’s books and speeches are our Sermon on the Mount.” (Alfred Wagner) The Third Reich, ill-conceived to last a thousand years, published the Nordland that mocked the Sermon on the Mount as “the first Bolshevist manifesto, in a language now buried under the dust of centuries.” Another top Nazi sneered at what he called “Jewish fanatics like Matthew, materialist rabbis like Paul, mongrel half-breeds like Augustine.” (Alfred Rosenberg) The National Socialist Manifesto stated that “the hooked cross is our religion”. Hitler’s portraits typically bathed his head in a halo of light with the caption: “To Thee, O My Leader, belongs everything we possess, our goods and our lives, our hearts and our souls.”
And all that Nazi idolatry with its atrocities were duplicated in Stalinism, in Maoism and in every other merely seemingly secular cult of idols.
Today, Christians are the number one target of persecution around the world. And Pew Research reports that Christians in 130 countries have been under even increasing attack by government agencies and in the societies at large. The increase is concentrated in Muslim theocracies of the Middle East and North Africa and elsewhere. But the anti-Christian hostility is also on the increase in fanatically secularist France, Britain and Scandinavia – and the attack against Christianity is even being legislated. And, of course, government crackdowns continue under officially atheistic Communism.
In our circles, persecution for serious identity with Christ may present as but smirks and snide asides by secularists. But, this bullying is just as politically conforming and status affirming of the Zeitgeist and stems just as much from loathing and arrogant self-righteousness as persecution in any Gulag or Nazi prison camp.
Nonetheless, the persecuted for righteousness are truly fortunate. Beyond the immediate, temporary persecution that, in the end, won’t last, they are, in the words of the writer to Hebrews, “surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses” – literally, martyrs – (12:1) with whom, together, they’re wrapped ‘round in the everlasting arms of the everlasting Lover. The Peace of the persecuted for Christ’s sake is Christ, himself.
Well, these are the fortunate folks of Beatitude. True disciples of Christ, so fortunately poor in spirit that they rely on Christ alone and, so, they’re persecuted for Christ. Since their life’s orientation is consistently aimed toward what God has revealed to be the priorities of God’s reign and realm, they’re on their way, ever onward, ever upward, growing – even groaning – into conformity to their Savior and Lord. That’s what “great is your reward in heaven” means, you know. Your goal is with God.
These are the fortunate folks of Beatitude. They mourn over all unrighteousness, and in humility, hunger and thirst for righteousness. They’re merciful, single of heart, mind and purpose and they pass along the peace of Christ in all they say and do.
These are the fortunate folks of Beatitude. Citizens of the reign and realm of God, here and now, the God-comforted, inheriting the whole earth made brand new, the satisfied beyond all imaginings and fantasies, the grateful recipients of God’s mercy who will one day behold Christ face to face as dear children of God and siblings of God’s Son.
These are the fortunate folks of Beatitude: The spiritually poor, whose Prosperity is Christ, himself. The appropriately prioritized, whose Privilege is Christ, himself. The persecuted for Christ’s sake, whose Peace is Christ, himself. There they are.
And, where are we? Are we with them? We are, if we, too, are with Him! Do we truly long to be with Jesus and to joy in him? We were his joy long before we heard of him. It was for his joy in us that he came for us and died for us. And for us he was raised from the dead that we might live in him.
Thanks be to God! We, too, can get to be his fortunate folks of Beatitude.
Amen.