The Kingdom of Heaven (Jan 30, 2011)

Homily:  Yr A Proper 4; Jan 30 2011

Readings:  Micah 6:1-8; Ps 15; 1 Cor 1:18-31; Mt 5:1-12

“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near”

Jesus went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him, and he taught them, saying “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Now, what is this kingdom of heaven that Jesus is talking about?

Or, to ask the question another way, if the kingdom of heaven was a choir, what sort of choir would it be?

As many of you know my daughter Michelle sings in a choir.  She has in fact over the last few years been a member of two children’s choirs.  Presently, she’s a member of the Christ Church Cathedral Girls’ Choir, you remember the choir that came and joined us for our worship in October.  And before that, she was a member of an Ottawa Children’s Choir.  Both are very good choirs.  But they have very different approaches to things.

When Michelle wanted to join the Children’s Choir, the first thing she had to do was an audition.  She had to sing for the choir director, whose job it was to evaluate whether she could sing well enough to be invited to join the choir.  And so the week before her audition she would practice singing, so that she could become good enough to qualify for the choir.

A few years later, Michelle heard about the Cathedral Girls’ Choir, and decided that she would like to join that choir.  So we contacted Tim, the choir director, and we started to tell him about Michelle’s qualifications and experience choral singing, and we asked when she would be able to audition. 

“There aren’t any auditions,” said Tim.  “Everyone’s welcome to join the choir.  Just bring her to the practice on Thursday.”  Tim’s philosophy is that everyone is a singer, that all are welcome and that as members of the choir all the girls will learn to sing beautifully, and that everyone’s voice will make a wonderful contribution to the choir’s purpose, which is, after all, to worship God.

In last week’s gospel, we heard Jesus begin his public ministry by proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”  In today’s gospel, even before he says a word, Jesus begins to act out for us just what the kingdom of heaven looks like.

Recall that Jesus has just passed through the waters of baptism in the Jordan River.  Then he went to the wilderness where he was tempted.  Now, Matthew tells us, Jesus goes up the mountain.  In Jewish thought, the mountain is the place of revelation, the place where God and humanity meet.  For Matthew’s readers, Jesus going up the mountain would immediately call to mind the story of Moses in Exodus chapter 19.  Moses led the people of Israel through the waters of the Red Sea. Then they passed through the wilderness until they arrived at Mount Sinai.  There the Lord called to Moses from the mountain and instructed him to tell the people “if you obey my voice and keep my covenant, then you shall be my people.”  And when the people agreed that they would indeed obey God, then the Lord summoned Moses up to the top of the mountain. 

But in Exodus, only Moses was allowed to come up the mountain.  The people were told to stay away, that if they even came close to the mountain, they would die.  So they kept their distance.  And Moses went up the mountain, and God spoke ten words, and wrote them on tablets for Moses to take down to the people.  And the words God spoke to the people were commandments:  you shall have no other Gods but me, and you shall not make idols for yourselves, and so on.  You shall do this and you shall not do that, and if you keep these commandments I will be your God and you will be my people.

This story of Moses going up the mountain would have framed the expectations of Jesus followers as Jesus went up the mountain.  But Jesus is full of surprises.  Instead of telling his disciples to stay below, he brings them up onto the mountain with him.  No conditions imposed, no strings attached, no need to keep their distance.  The people are gathered into God’s presence on the mountain, just as they are.  And when Jesus opens his mouth to speak, the words that come out aren’t commandments.  He doesn’t tell the people what they should and shouldn’t do.  Instead Jesus pronounces blessing on the people.

It is a dramatic illustration of the new relationship with God that Jesus is calling the people into, a dramatic change from the story of Moses.  Instead of a God who keeps the people at a distance and imposes conditions on them, Jesus is telling us that God wants to draw us near, no audition required, and bless us.

Repent, Jesus has told them.  Change your way of thinking.  For the kingdom of heaven has come near.  The kingdom of heaven is yours, and you are blessed.

And from this place of nearness, this place of intimacy, Jesus teaches us and pronounces blessing on us and in so doing starts to illustrate for us just what the kingdom of heaven is, just what it means.

If the kingdom of heaven is a place, what sort of place is it?

If the kingdom of heaven is a relationship, what sort of relationship is it?

If the kingdom of heaven is a way of life, what sort of way of life is it?

If the kingdom of heaven is a choir, what sort of choir would it be?

The kingdom of heaven is first of all a place of blessing.  And it is a place of blessing now, not a place where blessing is promised only in the future.  Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  And the blessing is extended, far and wide.  Jesus extends the blessing not just to those who are listening, but to all, all who are poor in spirit, all who mourn, all who are meek.

The kingdom of heaven is near, it is in the present tense, it is a place of blessing now, and yet it is also a promise for the future.  There’s a recognition that change is going to come.  Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted, blessed are those who are merciful for they will receive mercy, blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.  The qualities or characteristics of the kingdom of heaven, things like comfort and fulfillment and mercy, compassion, kindness, forgiveness, these are things that we get a taste of now but long for more of in the future, and God’s promise to us is that our longing we experience today for these things is good and true and will be fulfilled.

And so we get a picture of the kingdom of heaven as a place not just of blessing but of transformation.  We don’t have to be transformed to enter the kingdom of heaven; we enter the kingdom of heaven to be transformed.  To be transformed into peacemakers, into people who are meek, that is, people who are gentle with each other and walk humbly with God.  To be transformed into people who mourn not only their own losses, but who mourn the losses of others, and who mourn the injustice that we see around us.  To be transformed into people who are merciful, people who love kindness and practice compassion and forgiveness.  To be transformed into people who are pure in heart, people who strive for justice and are sincere in worship.  To be transformed into people who hunger and thirst for righteousness and learn to do justice.

You see, there is a vision here, a great vision of what we are to become, a vision of each one of us becoming the person that we were created to be.  A great vision of the future, but one that is firmly rooted in the present, firmly rooted in the intimacy of a relationship with God that requires no audition.  We need pay no price of entry.  The kingdom of heaven is near.  It is a blessing of us just as we are and a vision of what we’re to become.

And if I had to sum up that vision in a few words, I could do no better than to draw on the words of the prophet Micah that we heard in our first reading.  God’s vision for us, the vision of the Beatitudes that Jesus pronounces in today’s gospel, is this:

Do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with your God.

Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.  It’s one of those bible verses that’s worth memorizing, worth pinning on your wall or sticking to your mirror where you’ll see it first thing every morning.

Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.

It sounds so simple, doesn’t it.  It is a vision meant to inspire us, a rule meant to guide us.  Sometimes we’re good at it.  And yet sometimes it eludes us. In our Bible Study on Tuesday this week, someone mentioned that it sounds so simple and yet in our world today there are still problems aren’t there.  There is justice and yet there is also injustice.  There is kindness and yet unkindness persists.  That can be discouraging.  It can leave us dispirited.  In fact it can leave us feeling poor in spirit.

To which Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Amen.

Our Lives Matter: Silent Night (Advent 1, Nov 28 2010)

Advent 1, November 28 2010
Readings:  Isaiah 2:2-5; Rom 13:11-14; Mt 24:36-44

Some of you may know that for many years I used to coach my son Jonathan’s hockey team.  And one of the roles of the coach of the team is to try to motivate the players before a game.  And so as coach, you come up with various techniques to get the players up for the game, depending on what age group you’re working with.  Now this was a competitive team, and so when the boys were 15 and playing minor midget hockey, it was what was called their draft year.  At the end of the season the Junior A hockey clubs would draft the most promising of these 15 year olds.  Of course, all the boys wanted to be drafted.  And so one of the motivational techniques we sometimes used as coaches before a game would be to remind the boys that at some point during the year, the Junior A clubs would be sending scouts to our games to evaluate our players.  Nobody knew what game they would be coming to, they would just show up  unexpected.  But they might be in the stands right now, waiting to watch you play tonight.

Have you ever noticed that whenever we’re talking about the future, we’re really talking about the present?  Each of readings this morning, from Isaiah, from Paul, from Matthew, each one speaks of the future, of the days to come.  But the conclusion each time is firmly rooted in the present, in the here and now.  “Now is the moment for you to wake,” says Paul.  “Let us walk in the light of the Lord!”, exhorts Isaiah.  “You must be ready,” says Jesus.  Here.  Now.

Jesus and Isaiah in particular are both speaking to peoples who are suffering, peoples who are oppressed by enemy armies.  All is not well in their present, there is injustice, there is pain.  But the message they are given about the future is clear.  God will act.  God will judge.  God will set things right.  It was a message that would have provided comfort to those listening, at least for most of them, because of what it said about the present.  God cares about you and the things you are suffering, and you can have hope right now that in the future things will be set right.

Some of us however, myself included, we hear Isaiah talking about judgment, and Jesus talking about how one will be taken and one will be left behind, and that makes us feel uneasy.  I get a little uneasy thinking about how God will judge me at some unknown time in the future, and the possibility of punishment that is implied.  I’m much more comfortable when I get to talk to you all about God’s love and forgiveness rather than God’s judgement.

But make no mistake, the word we get in today’s gospel is that we will be judged.  At some point in the future, we don’t know when, it could be today, God will hold us accountable for the way we live our lives.

How does that make you feel?  A little nervous perhaps?  Inspired?  Motivated?  Will you go out and play a better game knowing the scouts might be in the stands?

I’d like to persuade you this morning that this word of judgement is also a word of good news.  It is good news first of all because we know that although judgement is a word of God, it is not the final word.  This first Sunday of Advent we speak of being held accountable.  Next Sunday we will speak of repentance.  In today’s gospel Jesus speaks of judgement.   Two days later, Jesus will be crucified and from that very place of judgement on the cross, he will speak words of forgiveness.

But the word of judgement is of itself good news, because the knowledge that we will be held accountable for our lives by God is a gift.  It is the gift of knowing that God cares, and that how we live our lives matters.  It is a gift that provides purpose and meaning to our lives, here and now.

You are not irrelevant.  You matter.  How you live matters.  You are part of God’s plan to set right all that is wrong in our lives and our world.

Isaiah’s vision of the future is a vision of peace.  “In the days to come, they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nations shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.”

So often when we hear such a vision, there is a temptation to be overwhelmed by it.  Wars and conflicts seem so entrenched, or so far away, or so big and beyond our ability to make a difference.  It is tempting to feel that we are irrelevant, that we don’t matter.

 I imagine that many of those soldiers in the trenches in Europe in December of 1914 felt that way.  They had fully expected to be home by Christmas when they signed up for war in the summer of 1914.  As the conflict became mired in a seemingly endless stalemate of trench warfare, surely many of the soldiers became disillusioned and dared not dream of peace.

And then late on Christmas Eve, out of the darkness came the sound of one man singing Silent Night.  It was a moment of unexpected peace.  How do you respond when a moment of unexpected peace presents itself?  One by one, the English soldiers on the other side responded by joining in the singing.  Candles appeared.  An unexpected truce broke out.  The soldiers from both sides ventured into no-man’s land to exchange gifts and to bury their dead. 

As you might expect, not everyone approved of the truce.  Some thought that the fraternization with the enemy was inappropriate.  And, alas, the Christmas Eve truce was not a lasting peace.  War resumed the next morning.  It was simply a moment, a moment of hope, a foretaste of the days to come, a moment that mattered.

When a moment of unexpected peace breaks out in your life, how will you respond?  Will you be ready for it?  Will you reject it, or will you sing?  Might you even be the one who starts the singing?

This Advent, as we prepare once more for the coming of the Prince of Peace into our world, let us seek out ways to create moments of peace and embrace them whenever they present themselves, however unexpectedly.  And in this I want to be very concrete.  Look around your home, or your office, or your school or your church.  Each one of us will encounter a situation of conflict or tension or brokenness there somewhere.  You may well be caught up in it yourself.  When you encounter, or acknowledge, such a situation, seek to bring peace.  Whether it is by upholding those involved in prayer, or by offering care or hospitality, or by apologizing or forgiving, seek to create a moment of peace.  Let that be your preparation this Advent.

After all, what we do matters.  So be ready.

Amen.