“Lord, Lord, Didn’t we Hear this Last Week?”: Judgment in the Sermon on the Mount (the Sequel) ~ Matthew 7:21-2 (Sermon on the Mount series)

²¹“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. ²²On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your name?’ ²³Then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.’ ²⁴“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. ²⁵The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. ²⁶And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. ²⁷The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell—and great was its fall!” ²⁸Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, ²⁹for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes. ~ Matthew 7:21-29

Okay, I know, I know, that I’m the movie guy – that annoying guy who always makes analogies, references, outright plagiarisms of films but I simply can’t help myself. This week, as I tackled this text I heard another voice: “No not Clint Eastwood but the Movie guy voice: “Last week at Montecito Covenant Church – Jesus gave us warnings to walk the narrow way, to watch out for wolves and to be mindful and discerning of good fruit. And this week, hold on to your hat, he’s doing it again.” So we continue in the same vein of listening to Jesus’ words and our three points from last week are worth repeating:

1.    Jesus said what we are reading today so we can trust that it is for our benefit.

2.    Jesus lived what he was saying – both the practices that he preached on as well as the warnings that he gave – he saw only few following him and was betrayed by wolves in sheep’s clothing.

3.    Finally, Jesus does the sermon on the mount. He is the one who judges fruit. He is the one who cuts down trees. He is the one who does for us what we shouldn’t do and accomplishes for us what we can’t do.

And here we are again . . .  So what else can we learn about with respect to Jesus & judgment, part II, the sequel?

          1.    First, there’s a warning: Don’t be a stranger. 

Jesus’ warning certainly would resonate with Evangelicals – he points to the issue of relationship. That we must both know and be known by Him. But HOW that happens should cause us a bit of discomfort because these people claim to know him – “Lord, lord!,” they exclaim and Jesus rebuffs them.

So the intimacy of relationship with Jesus is framed not by mere recognition (“Lord, Lord”), nor simply private devotion (just hearing the words or having a quiet time of Bible reading), nor large works of power (social or political activism) but by both hearing and doing the sermon on the mount. So we need to notice two things about Jesus’ understanding of intimacy.

            a.    Intimacy is personal but not private.

Intimacy with Jesus demands a personal investment and begins with myself not others. It’s not about changing the world first – it’s about hearing and acting in way that allows for ourselves to be changed by him.

It’s about personally blessing the poor and the poor in spirit, being humble, hungering and thirsting for righteousness and being persecuted on his account. It’s addressing my anger, avoiding my lust, taking my thoughts seriously, being faithful in my marriage, telling the truth, and being reconciled to my enemies. It’s giving and praying in secret for “us” and not merely “I.” It’s not worrying, not judging, not hoarding. In fact, my own person becomes a critical measure for carrying out the sermon because Jesus commands that I do unto others as I would have them do unto me.

 

The famous Catholic activist and agitator, Dorothy Day, toward the end of her life said it this way: “The older I get, the more I meet people, the more convinced I am that we must only work on ourselves, to grow in grace. The only thing we can do about people is to love them.” It often forces me to look inwardly so I can act outwardly. It's work that demands that I listen to Jesus, I do what he says, and that I ask and receive help from him (Matt. 6:9-13). It's a refusal to separate love from obedience and refusal to separate fighting evil from my own inward demons of hate, violence, greed, etc.

 

            b.    It’s active but not grandiose – it’s small. 

What strikes me about these tasks in the sermon on the mount is that they seem so small given the problems of our world. The false prophets problems are not that they are passive but seem to be that they imagine that what will change the world by doing big things for God that don’t require personal commitment. Note: none of their activities are mentioned by Jesus in the sermon on the mount.

So these false prophets are doing big stuff but it’s not the right stuff. And Jesus responds, “Who are you?” So the sermon on the mount also implies that following Jesus is often small work. Mother Theresa offers us a brilliant retelling of what I’m trying to say. She says, “We can do not great things, only small things with great love. It is not how much you do but how much love you put into doing it. Above our front door, we have hung a sign that says, “Today . . . small things with great love (or don’t open the door).”

How does this understanding of intimacy impact our identity? Well – imagine if I wanted to join the vegetarian society. And they said, “Okay great here is who we are, what we stand for, and what we do.” And I replied, “That’s great – I love what you do and I even bought a t-shirt and bumper sticker but I'm not so interested in your rigid rules of eating only vegetables every day. However, I can create multi-media advertisements for your group to get your message out.” Admittedly that might be helpful, I might know the lingo, talk a good game, but it wouldn’t make me one of them.

          2.    There’s an invitation: God’s real estate is for “everyone.”

First, despite Jesus’ warnings of only a “few” followers, false prophets, and bad trees – Jesus’ invitation is for “everyone” (vs. 24). The real estate option for a nice solid bit of property to build your house upon is available to anyone who wants to pay the price. You can afford it but are you willing to pay for it?

Second, the foundation isn’t revealed by the size or glamour of the house. Nothing is said about any differences between the two houses other than the foundation of rock or sand. Guess what a building inspector calls a small house on a bad foundation?  Condemned. Guess what a building inspector calls an enormous mansion with vaulted ceilings, a pool, and a four car garage on a bad foundation? Beautifully, condemned – and “How great will be there fall!,” Jesus says. Our houses, in other words, are similar to the sheep’s clothing that we talked about last week. They can be our camouflage that we try to use to inflate or hide who we really are.  We need to resist a world, a spirituality, which says, “Your reputation, your life, your destiny, is determined by the size of your house.” Friends, I also want to clearly state that it’s not about the color of your house either. Some of you – your candidate won the White House. Some of you – your candidate didn’t. Both of you better build on the right foundation. Both of you better “do to others as you would have them do to you.” Both of you better hear and do what he said to us. Both of you should remember that you are neither Republican or Democrat, red or blue, but a follower of Jesus. Worry about what you’re building on and everything else will fall into place. Our houses can look different. Our foundations will not. And some of us need to stop fussing over architectural plans and start building even if we don’t know exactly where everything goes.

Third, it’s also important to remember that the foundation doesn’t change the weather and bad weather is coming. Following Jesus in this life will not save you from the storms. Let me say that again, “Following Jesus will not save you from the storms.” So why do we imagine that storms reflect who people are. I remember a woman who said to me when I was leaving for California, “I don’t know why anyone would move there. They have horrible earthquakes and expect us tax payers to pay for their homes when they fall.” Of course, she failed to mention the ever-present floods and tornadoes that hit Texas on a regular basis. Storms don’t reflect our choices, they reveal them. Illus. Story of the flood in my friend’s community – who shared with whom, who opened to whom?

          3.    There’s a promise: You will be surprised and astounded (NOT afraid)

It should be telling that the response of the crowd does not actually resemble the response that many of us sort of feel about Jesus’ words. We might be afraid, or annoyed, they are “astounded.” Why? Jacob Neusner a famous Jewish scholar and rabbi clues us in. He wrote a book about Jesus called A Rabbi talks with Jesus, which explores how a faithful follower of Judaism would hear Jesus’ words on the sermon of the mount. Interestingly, Neusner says that the ethic of Jesus doesn’t bother him. He appreciates Jesus’ teachings and hears in Jesus, for the most part, an acceptable, though arguable, interpretation of Torah (the law or first five books of the Hebrew Scriptures).

What does concern Neusner, however, remains the astounding language that Jesus employs for speaking of this ethic. He writes, “Yes, I would have been astonished. Here is a Torah-teacher who says in his own name what the Torah says in God’s name . . . we now recognize that at issue is the figure of Jesus, not the teachings at all.” In a later interview, Neusner declared that Jesus’ attitude to Torah made him want to ask: “Who do you think you are? God?”

The focus of the parable about the two foundations, Jesus says, is about “my words.” In vss. 24 and 26 he focuses not on the Old Testament but “these my words” – with the emphasis in the Greek on “my” which is placed first. In fact, our whole passage can almost be summed up by Jesus’ “my.” Entering the kingdom of heaven is about doing the will of “my Father” (7:21). Those who are not obedient are told “go away from me” (7:23). And the will of the Father and one’s entrance into that kingdom directly relate to “my words.”

Gandhi, whom I deeply respect and who truly challenged Christian visions of the sermon on the mount by actually showing that the principles worked once said, “I have never been interested in a historical Jesus. I should not care if it was proved by someone that the man called Jesus never lived, and that what was narrated in the Gospels was a figment of the writer’s imagination. For the Sermon on the Mount would still be true for me.”

The problem with Gandhi’s remarks, of course, is that Jesus’ ethic, his position in the sermon on the mount, all stemmed from an understanding of who he was, which allows him to say these seemingly bombastic things – these warnings about the future in which he himself is the judge. These aren’t simply ethical teachings – they are connected to what theologians refer to as eschatology – the end that Jesus determines. 

In the end (signaled by the phrase “On that day” (vs. 22), the Christian message is that it is Jesus who decides and determines our destiny. And Jesus can claim that authority and power because of who he is. It reminds us of where we began – the who is as important as the what or the how.

Jesus, Clint Eastwood and Me: Judgment in the Sermon on the Mount ~ Matthew 7:13-20 (Sermon on the Mount series)

¹³ “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. ¹⁴ But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.¹⁵ Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. ¹⁶ By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? ¹⁷ Likewise, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. ¹⁸ A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. ¹⁹ Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. ²⁰ Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them. ~ Matthew 7:13-20

This Sunday we are beginning to come to the end of a long series on the sermon of mount and today’s text is quite a doozy. At first I agonized over our scripture passage for the day – reading it over and over. I worried what to say about Jesus’ words – they’re admittedly stark, a bit scary and final, and felt tinged with the look and tone of a “Go ahead make my day” Clint Eastwood-esque-sort-of-menace (Jesus with a loaded gun saying, “Do you feel lucky, punk?”). At least that’s how I heard them initially. That’s the voice I supplied without even realizing it. “How would I explain them?,” I wondered. But then at 3 am on Wednesday night I awoke to a reality that has given me some peace – I realized that these aren’t my words, they aren’t my warning, and they aren’t Clint Eastwood’s either. So how should we read/hear these words. What’s important for us to take away about Jesus and judgment?

          1.    Jesus said it.

Yes, Jesus said these things but these aren’t his only words. They belong with everything else he said and did. These are the words of the one who came so that we might have life and have it abundantly. They were said by the one who healed the sick, released captives, and welcomed children. The one who challenged the rich, blessed the poor and spoke endlessly about the love of God. Remember that he said these words in a particular context - at the beginning of his ministry and at the end of this particular sermon, in which he said, “blessed are the meek”; “pray for your enemies”; give alms “in secret.” This should not detract from their warning -  but the point of the matter is that the warning is part of a greater whole and the “who” of the warning is as important as the “what” of the warning or the “how.”

Who says something has everything to do with how you hear it. The speaker or subject alters the very meaning of the content. If you tell me, “Well, you don’t look well and though I am not a M.D. but have a Ph.D. in New Testament I think that you have cancer and should start chemo immediately.” You wouldn’t be surprised, hopefully, that I don’t really take your warning seriously. Kids understand this. If they say " mom says. . ." it gives their words more weight. It might make me move a bit faster, come with more urgency, listen more intently.

But more than take it seriously because Jesus said it. I can listen with a certain confidence knowing that he says it for our benefit. One of my children was little and playing in the living room when I discovered her about to shove a spring-loaded window breaker (a device that helps you escape from a car by shattering the window) into a glass that she was holding. I screamed, “Stop! What are you doing?!” And the child pitched backward in fright, terrified at my yelling and horrified by my words, screaming in fright. She was too young to realize that my warning was motivated out of the deepest love that a parent can have.  Jesus’ warning is scary but no less loving – it was meant to keep you safe.

Finally, if Jesus said it I don't have to defend it. Yet this is not an endorsement of that fundamentalist-sort-of-hermeneutic I imbibed as a child, “God said it. I believe it. That settles it.” Truth be told, Jesus’ teachings are often neither easy nor settling. But the gospel stories reveal that I can ask questions about them – like “Why only a few, Lord?” Am I a wolf in sheep’s clothing? What about fruit in my life which seems so rotten?” In other words, even if Jesus says it, I can still in good conscience question it.

Either way, my job as a pastor is to tell you that Jesus says to walk the narrow way, watch out, and bear good fruit and that there are consequences if you don’t. But remember, it’s not me or my voice and not Clint Eastwood’s either – it’s Jesus saying these things.

          2.    Jesus lived it.

Jesus does more than say these things to us. The whole point of the sermon of the mount is that this is how we are to live. That he lived it. The words “way,” “road,” and “path” in the Old Testament and at the time of Jesus often represented a way of life, that is, habitual actions which determined moral meaning and ultimately one’s fate or consequences (see, for a few examples, Ps. 1:1,6; 16:11; 119:35; Prov. 2:18; 4:14, 18; 6:23; 7:27; 14:12; 16:25; Jer. 21:8).

The background to this imagery was important for survival in the desert, where taking the wrong path could be fatal because it would not bring one to the next water source in time. Hence the Bedouin proverb, “The path is wiser than the one who walks upon it,” meaning the path was made by survivors who discovered the correct way to go. Jesus is saying – I am the one who knows the correct way to go. I know the right path – the way God wants you to live so that you have abundant life. So while it’s tempting to immediately here Jesus’ words as primarily about destination - ones eternal fate or destiny - it’s important to realize that he is also referencing the real consequences of the journey, if you choose not to follow his way.

And to that end there is another reality – Jesus words redefine what we mean by “success”. Jesus, himself, lived the sermon on the mount – even his own warnings. These same things happened to him even though he lived the sermon perfectly! I wonder if he knew that ahead of time? He didn’t simply love his enemies, pray in secret, or forgive others. He experienced the difficulties of the narrow way and betrayers in his midst. I wonder, “Did he have to reference his own sermon for comfort and say, ‘Oh yeah, I said there would only be a few.’?” Look how many followers he ends with at the time of his resurrection – a mere 120. Look at what happens to him among his own followers. He's betrayed by Judas, the others flee and even Peter will deny knowing him. This follower of God’s way ends up facing his fate alone. So being faithful should never be assumed under the traditional vision of successful. In fact, maybe “successful” is just one more piece of sheep’s clothing.

But what about this warning of potential false prophets in our midst? Sheep who are inwardly ravenous wolves? He tells us to be watchful, to be aware but why doesn't he tell us what to do with the wolves?  Is it because he already had?  Read Matthew 5:43-48 again. Love them. Pray for them. And friends, that should give us a certain confidence. If these are Jesus’ words then wolves can be tamed, brought back into the fold, made right with the community and God. Prophets need not be false forever.

When we recognize that these are Jesus’ words – solid and true - they also take on the pastoral quality they were meant to, which, I believe, we might otherwise miss. Martin Luther points out that by acknowledging the presence of the camouflaged wolves in our midst it allows us the freedom let go of traditional markers of identity and success, piety and prestige: one’s wealth, clothes, gender, marital status, or any other marker that we might use to determine someone’s connection to God becomes utterly irrelevant. Therefore, Jesus’ teaching helps keep us safe from all kinds outward masks.

Martin Luther says: “The comfort is that we should not be frightened or worry ourselves to death . . . As we have been instructed by His Word, we should reply this way: ‘I knew beforehand, when I made up my mind to be a Christian, that it would be the way that Christ, my Lord, predicted . . . Christ himself had His betrayer Judas with him. . . Therefore we must not mind our Judases either.”

          3.    Jesus does it. 

Finally, despite a certain watchfulness and warning that Jesus give us we must always remember that we are commanded to do very little in this passage. It is Jesus who judges fruit. We are never commanded to “cut down” and “throw” anything anywhere. It's true that we also have a part to play in that discernment, in figuring out the health of our trees, fertilizing one another, allowing ourselves to be pruned, even recognizing that some have said they were an apple tree and only produced acorns. And we need to remember that even a good tree might have a bad season, a few bugs, might struggle with drought. But our job is not to cut trees down or make kindling. But we are not spiritual lumberjacks but instructed to be loving gardeners and fruit pickers– aerating one another, offering water, and dealing with each other’s manure (Luke 13:6-9).

But Jesus is more than simply the final judge – he is also the way (John 14:6), the gate (John 10), the lamb who was slain (Rev. 5: 8-14) and the very root of the tree (Isaiah 11:1-3). He is more than a teacher, more than a guide, more than the one who cuts things down but the one who does for us what we can’t do for ourselves.

This is the real rub of the sermon of the mount and the paradox which lies at the heart of the gospel message and the Christian faith. Jesus instructs us how to be what God intended, how to be most human, how to live in such a way that is abundant and pleasing to God and a blessing to others. But he also lives that life and will do so on our behalf. So the New Testament speaks about Jesus in two ways that we should never fundamentally separate: imitation and participation.

Jesus wants us to walk the narrow road and he is that way.

Jesus reminds us to suffer wolves and he also suffered them on our behalf.

Jesus wants us to bear good fruit and reminds us that we can bear his.