And the Sun Rises Upon?

Text:  Matthew 5:38-48

Theme:  “And the Sun Rises Upon?”

7^th Sunday after the Epiphany

February 23, 2014

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

38 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’[h] 39 But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. 40 And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. 41 If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. 42 Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.

43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor[i] and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. 46 If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? 47 And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? 48 Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday are the good guys in that great motion picture we’ve come to know as Tombstone.  One of the bad guys – and a notorious one at that – is named Johnny Ringo.  Wyatt and Doc (the good guys) were talking about Johnny (the bad guy) one day.  Here’s the exchange:

Wyatt Earp: What makes a man like Ringo, Doc? What makes him do the things he does?

Doc Holliday: A man like Ringo has a great empty hole through the middle of him. He can never kill enough, or steal enough, or inflict enough pain to ever fill it.

Wyatt Earp: What does he need?

Doc Holliday: Revenge.

Wyatt Earp: For what?

Doc Holliday: Being born

Kevin Jarre, who wrote the screenplay for Tombstone, does touch on the subject of evil here – both its psychology and its pathology.

Jesus, on the other hand, doesn’t dig that deep; He’s not writing a screenplay or teaching a post-graduate level seminar on evil and what it means to have enemies.  Rather, in today’s gospel, a portion of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus exclaims:  “(God) causes the His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”

There is good.  There is evil.  There is righteousness.  There is unrighteousness.  The Lord is really quite upfront and plainspoken about these subjects.  He doesn’t dance around them.  He doesn’t dull the sharp edges of evil.  He doesn’t polish a tarnished good.  Painfully and wonderfully, He tells it like it is. 

We, on the other hand, have a more sophisticated approach – perhaps even a politically correct one.  We like to think – and perhaps even have convinced ourselves -- that we human beings have varying traits.  As the saying goes:  “There’s a little bit of good in the worst of us and a little bit of evil in the best of us.”  Thus, the thing we need to do is try to get along with everyone.  “Why can’t we all just get along?”

In the evenings, if I’m not catching a bit of the Olympics or watching House of Cards on Netflix, I’ve been burrowing into Margaret Macmillan’s incredible book, The War that Ended the Peace.  It’s all about the situation on the European continent in the years leading up to 1914 when an archduke was assassinated and the Germans marched into Belgium.  World War I – or “The Great War”, as it was called -- had begun.  On the one hand, you had Europeans, in seemingly every country during the lead-up, who thought that war was inevitable and we had best get on with it.  On the other hand, you had pacifists who hated the arms race.  There were radicals and reformers and doves and hawks and liberals and conservatives.  There was the landed aristocracy.  There were the common workers. A French medical doctor summed up the situation quite well: 

Neurosis lies in wait for us.  Never has the monster made more victims, either because ancestral defects accumulate or because the stimulants of our civilization, deadly for the majority, precipitate us into an idle and frightened debilitation.

What does that mean?  It means that there was good.  There was evil.  There was righteousness; there was unrighteousness.   There was idle and frightened debilitation. You spot it everywhere in the book.  People and nations of varying traits tried to get along.   As Jesus declared, the “sun rose” and the “rain fell” on all of it. 

The sixty-four million dollar question is this:  how are we to get along in our own day?  How are we to get along in a culture both idle and frighteningly debilitated?  How are we to get along in this admixture of good and evil, righteousness and unrighteousness? 

Jesus, as is His way, has an answer.  He says:  “Be ye perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect.”  There you have it; here’s your answer:  perfection – or, more specifically, divine perfection.  “Be ye perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.

So that’s how you live in a world where God’s sun rises on the evil and the good and rain is sent on the righteous and the unrighteous:  you be perfect.

Somebody says:  “Sheer nonsense!  That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.  That’s silly; it’s insane.  No one’s perfect.  Perfection?  It’s an unattainable goal.” 

But it’s not a goal.  It’s not like an Olympic medal or something else you try to achieve.  It’s a state of being:  BE ye perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect. 

Follow me on this:  if perfection cannot be achieved by ourselves and if it is a state of being, then it can only come in one way:  as a gift.

That gift is yours in Jesus who turned the other cheek, who handed over the coat as well as the shirt, who walked the extra mile. 

An old general toasted another old general with a glass of wine.  Lifting his glass, he said:  “Confusion to the enemy.”  Jesus did not wish confusion on His enemies.  He loved them and He prayed for them.  He died for them. He rose again from the grave for them. 

His gifts suffice.  His grace is sufficient.  In a world where the sun rises on the good and evil and rain is sent on the righteousness and unrighteousness, life with Jesus and His gifts is…just perfect!

Amen.

Pastoral Care: Then and Now

Text:  1 Corinthians 3:1-9

Theme:  "Pastoral Care:  Then and Now"

6th Sunday after the Epiphany

February 16, 2014

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

Today's theme is "Pastoral Care:  Then and Now".  Obviously, this isn't the kind of theme or topic featured with any regularity on ABC, NBC, CNN, or what have you, and I can understand that.  There is a certain awkwardness out and about when it comes to thinking about Christian clergy and what Christian pastors do and what kind of care they provide.  Down here in the Bible belt, I learned pretty quick that we're called "preachers."  "Quiet, Ma!  The preacher just got here!"  (I confess that I never really liked being called a preacher.  After all, what person do you know that likes to be "preached to"?) 

When I make the acquaintance of someone new, and when they discover that I'm a pastor -- or, more precisely, a teaching elder or minister of Word and Sacrament in the Presbyterian Church, the response always seems to be along these lines:  "Oh, is that so?  Uh, well, uh, okay!   That's, uh, nice; good for you!"  Of course, the subject then turns immediately to something else. I've learned that people can be uncomfortable around clergy.  I get the feeling that the Christian pastor is considered, among the general public,  to be something of an odd duck.  There's a smidge of truth to that -- as you all know well after my three and a half years among you!  On the highest authority, those who are pastors are "fools for Christ's sake."

My first experience of what pastors do came at the church of my childhood.  I learned that they do a lot of talking in public . Then they would teach.  I went to a Lutheran parochial school from the K-8, and on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, one of the pastors would come in to teach religion class. 

When I was 15 yrs. old, I was admitted to Dodge County Hospital in Fremont, Nebraska, and I would be there for about a week.  At first, they didn't know what was wrong with me.  I had a dangerously high temperature with severe intestinal problems.  (Turns out, it was a rare form of salmonella.)  One day, there was a knock on the door.  It was Pastor Levenhagen.  He sat down at my bedside and we chatted a bit.  Then he offered a prayer.  It was a visit that I've never forgotten.  It was pastoral care.  Mom and Dad cared for me; they worried and fussed and fretted.  But for Pastor Levenhagen to take time out of his day to inquire as to my welfare?   Even though it was "his job", it was pretty special.  While I couldn't put it into words at 15 years of age, I sensed that there was something important about what he did for a living. 

Now, one could argue -- with some merit -- that the world has changed considerably since Jesus Christ Himself sent out the first pastors.  As a result, pastoral care has had to change.  While the apostles and the first pastors -- Peter, James, John, St. Paul, Titus, Timothy, and the whole lot of them -- certainly visited the sick, I don't think they had to fill out a patient chart at a hospital computer terminal. I know they didn't have to have a post-graduate degree at an accredited seminary.  Peter and Andrew and James and John, you will recall, were professional fishermen.   I know that they didn't have to carry a lifeless infant in their own arms from a neo-natal intensive care unit down eleven stories to the basement morgue at a metropolitan children's hospital.   I'm sure they didn't have to run interference in a crowded, cramped emergency room after a death occurred.

Let me share this story.  A year ago this past Christmastime, I was called to Presbyterian Hospital.  I was on-call as chaplain.  Chaplains provide pastoral care in specific settings.  A 17 yr. old girl, a student-athlete, had died suddenly due to unforeseen complications brought on by on a minor surgery.  Her family, gathered in the room, were in the midst of massive grief. As teenagers tend to communicate via text messaging these days, the word got out pretty quickly.  In short order, thirty to forty friends of the deceased gathered in the waiting room.  I sensed pretty quickly that I had two jobs:  guard the immediate family's privacy and share any further information from the family to grieving teens waiting outside.

In the midst of all this chaos, I have to tenderly ask the immediate family to vacate the room so the Denton Country Coroner can do their initial examination.  Meanwhile, with the family outside the door, here comes the driver from the Tarrant County Medical Examiner's office to pick up the body.  The timing couldn't have been worse.  Hurriedly, he burst into the ER pushing the gurney and wanting to know where the body was.  Fortunately, I was able to spot that and direct him and his gurney away from the family.  I smiled politely and directed him aside to a private hallway.  I looked him in the eye and said:  "I will come and get you when the family is ready.  Have a seat.  Can I get you something to drink?"

Yes, pastoral care has changed because the world has.  But I'm also here to share that God's Word has not changed.  As our text from Corinthians points out, one task of pastoral care is to know what kind of nourishment from God's Word that people need.  Paul wrote to them:  "I gave you milk, not solid food, for you were not yet ready for it." 

Another thing that hasn't changed is alluded to in our reading:  human nature being what it is, churches can be messy places.   At Corinth, Pastor Paul noticed jealousy and quarreling among the faithful.  Sounds pretty messy to me.  There were even what we today would call "personality conflicts" -- or just personalities in general.    One says  "I follow Paul."  Another says  "I follow Apollos."  Does this sort of thing happen today?  Of course it does.  I know a mega-church in California where the congregation's leadership took out a catastrophic liability insurance policy on their pastor.  They thought if that pastor would leave for another church, they would be stuck.  Members would disappear and resources would dry up. Hearing about this, it dawned me:  many  of those at that church have more faith in their pastor than they do in the Lord!  Did they not think that if that pastor left that God wouldn't provide them another under-shepherd?

Pastor Paul tells his fellow believers at Corinth:  "What, after all, is
Apollos? And what is Paul?  Only servants through whom you came to believe -- as the Lord has assigned to each his task.  I planted the seed.  Apollos watered it, but God made it grow."  And thank God that that seed -- the seed of the Gospel, the good news that God, in Christ, loves us forever -- is still planted and watered today.  Neither the one who plants or waters is anything, but only God who makes things grow.

Speaking of growth, that is something we  thank God for today.  Three and a half years ago, when God called me -- through your session and congregation -- to serve as pastor here, it was determined that an "installed pastor" could not be supported. Thus, the status of the call you extended was changed to "temporary supply."  But for some time now, you have grown into being able to support an "installed pastor".  For my own part, I -- like Paul and Apollos -- have just done a little planting and watering!  And you have done your part.    God has made it grow! 

The session has asked that the status be changed.  Grace Presbytery's Committee on Ministry has approved request.  Now, what remains is for you, as members of the church at large in solemn assembly today and according to the church's usual order, to approve it as well.

It has been a joy and honor for me to plant and water the seed among you.  I sense that every time I step into pulpit, when I pour water at font, when I break bread and pour wine at the table or in the home of a shut-in, when I'm privileged to share your lives in their joyful moments and painful ones, when I walk a grieving family down the aisle to say their final goodbyes.    Where I've fallen short of God's expectations and yours, I ask  forgiveness -- yours and God's. Where there is joy in this ministry, give God the glory that is due.

When I was first ordained in the Lutheran Church way back in 1987, it was Pastor Levenhagen -- the one who had visited me in the hospital -- who preached the ordination sermon.  He quoted St. Paul: "If anyone desires the office of bishop, he desires a noble task."  Then he looked me in the eyes once again, and he said:  "It's a great job; God says so."

He's right.  Amen.

"Cultivating the Mind of Christ!"

Text:  Matthew 5:13-20

Theme:  "Cultivating the Mind of Christ"

5th Sunday after the Epiphany

February 9, 2014

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

¹³ “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.

¹⁴ “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. ¹⁵ Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. ¹⁶ In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

¹⁷ “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. ¹⁸ For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. ¹⁹ Therefore anyone who sets aside one of the least of these commands and teaches others accordingly will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. ²⁰ For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.

Every Wednesday noon here at FPC, a  growing group of men get together for what is now known as The Nicodemus League.  We share lunch and conversation, and then I have a little segment where I try to give the guys something to nourish their spirits, their minds, and their bodies.  Last week, in an attempt to nourish their minds, I shared some techniques on how to improve concentration.  Interestingly enough, they came from the year 1918.  One idea was to hold your arm out to the side with your fingers sticking straight out.  Then you turn your head and focus your eyes on your fingers.  You then hold the gaze until your fingers stop shaking. It's not as easy as it looks or sounds.

Next week, we'll leave the suggestions of 1918 to improve the muscle of the mind and, instead, see what the 21st century has to offer.  There's a website that has caught my attention called lumosity.com, and it purports to have all these online exercises to strengthen mental agility.  We'll see how that goes.

Speaking of the mind, St. Paul throws out a shocker to the Corinthian Christians.  In our New Testament Reading, he declares:  "We have the mind of Christ."  Hold on just a second!  I am my own person.  I have my own mind, thank you very much.  Jesus Christ may have His mind, and I have my mind.  That's two minds to exercise and not one.   If it were true that I have the mind of Christ and that you have the mind of Christ, that would mean that you and I have a different control center.  We don't have our thinkers anymore.  We have the Jesus thinker. That's as impossible as it is ridiculous; it doesn't make any sense. 

Of course, this is an understandable reaction.  But let's explore this a bit further.  In this morning's Gospel, Jesus, presumably using His mind, says, in the Sermon on the Mount, "You are the salt of the earth," and "You are the light of the world."   Now, salt is a preservative.  In addition to that, it gives flavor; it provides zest, zip, and tang.  You mean to tell me, Jesus, that we preserve the earth and give it zest?  That's what He seems to be saying!

Then there's that bit about being the "light of the world".  Light, of course, dispels darkness; it illuminates things, if you will.  You mean to tell me, Jesus, that we illuminate the world?  That's what He seems to be saying.

So we have the mind of Christ; we are the salt of the earth; we are the light of the world!  So why did I keep scratching my head over these claims as they came jumping off the pages of the Bible this week?  The answer hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks.  Maybe I've spent far too much time rummaging around in my own mind than cultivating the mind of Christ that the Bible claims I have.  Maybe I've spent too much effort on my own mental gymnastics than actually considering what it means to be the salt of the earth.  Maybe I've spent too much time forming opinions, coming up with theories, and putting forth my own ideas -- ideas, of course, on all the timely and pertinent subjects of the day -- that I haven't considered how I can light up the world -- or, at least, my little corner of it. 

We have the mind of Christ!  We are the salt of the earth! We are the light of the world!  The Bible doesn't present these statements as ideals or goals to be reached.  They're not like spiritual "gold medals" in some heavenly Olympics.  It states them as facts!  It sure looks like Jesus has a lot more confidence in His people than they have in themselves. 

And there's the rub.  We spend so much time cultivating confidence in ourselves that we completely forget, or reject out of hand, the confidence that Christ has placed in us!

"A mind is a terrible thing to waste," says the old advertisement for a college fund.  And it's true.  Like so many corn fields along so many county roads in Nebraska, it's either going to be cultivated or it's going to go to waste.

Some years ago, a friend of mine once said:  "My mind is like a bad neighborhood; it's not safe to go in there alone."   Others have described their minds as something like a conference room where their "committee" gets together for a meeting. There are disagreements; screaming and shouting ensues.  No progress is made.  No one is happy.  People today talk about trying to "quiet" their minds.  There's even an iPad app called "GPS for the Soul" that seeks to train the brain in quieting itself.  It purports to "clear out the clutter." 

But if you hand out pink slips and  fire the committee, if you quiet the mind and clear out the clutter, what's left?

We have the mind of Christ!  We are the salt of the earth!  We are the light of the world!

In just a few minutes, Henry Carl Briggs and Charlotte Ann Briggs we'll be baptized, and we get to be here to celebrate it.  I'm reliably told that Henry, upon hearing that Charlotte was going to be to be baptized and he would be too,  exclaimed:  "Well, she's going to go to heaven one day, and I'm going to go along" -- or words to that effect.  Such wisdom from the mouth of a child, a child already showing signs of having the mind of Christ, and of being the salt of the earth and the light of the world!

Jesus finished up today's lesson with a statement that, at first glance, sounds disturbing to my mind.  He says:  "Unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven."

Here's what's disturbing about it: I'm thinking about it with MY mind.  My mind interprets that as follows:  if my righteousness, or my holiness, or my "living a Scriptural life", my being a "good Christian" and all of that, isn't better than the best, then put a fork in me.  I'm done.  It's all over; I might as well go home.  It's either that, or I'm going to have to strive and work my tail off to clean up my moral messes.  I'm going to have to fret and worry constantly that I'm not living up to a standard (perfection) that is impossible to attain.  That, my friends, I'm here to say, is an absolute waste of time and mental energy.

But what if -- what if! -- I thought about what Christ said with the mind of Christ and not my own?  Then I would know that it was JESUS CHRIST and HIS RIGHTEOUSNESS that surpassed that of the Pharisees and teachers of the law.  It was He who went to that cross and came out from that grave to fulfill all righteousness for me -- and for you! 

What a teaching!  That's Christianity, folks!  No more disturbance.  This teaching cultivates the mind and energizes it.

Amen.

Text:  Matthew 5:1-12

Theme:  "A Dale Carnegie Course?"

4th Sunday after the Epiphany

February 2, 2014

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, ² and he began to teach them.

He said:

³ “Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
⁴ Blessed are those who mourn,
    for they will be comforted.
⁵ Blessed are the meek,
    for they will inherit the earth.
⁶ Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
    for they will be filled.
⁷ Blessed are the merciful,
    for they will be shown mercy.
⁸ Blessed are the pure in heart,
    for they will see God.
⁹ Blessed are the peacemakers,
    for they will be called children of God.
¹⁰ Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

¹¹ “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.¹² Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

Would you like to get out of a mental rut, think new thoughts, acquire new visions, discover new ambitions?  Does making friends quickly and easily sound good to you?  Wouldn't it be nice to win people to your way of thinking?  How about increasing your influence, your prestige, your ability to get things done?  It would be wonderful, would it not, to handle complaints, avoid arguments, keep your human contacts smooth and pleasant?  How about becoming a better speaker or a more entertaining conversationalist?  Does the ability to arouse enthusiasm among your associates sound like a good thing to learn? 

Countless human beings, the world over, have answered yes to all these questions.  This is why Dale Carnegie's famous book, How to Win Friends and Influence People, has been a bestseller since it was first published in 1936.  The ideas in this volume were developed into a series of seminars called "Dale Carnegie Courses" that emphasized self-improvement, salesmanship, public speaking, and interpersonal skills. 

Carnegie was a wellspring of quotable quotes, and here are just two:  Carnegie exclaims, "The ideas I stand for are not mine. I borrowed them from Socrates. I swiped them from Chesterfield. I stole them from Jesus. And I put them in a book. If you don't like their rules, whose would you use?"  And then there's this fascinating little tidbit:  "I am very fond of strawberries and cream, but I have found that for some strange reason, fish prefer worms. So when I went fishing, I didn’t think about what I wanted. I thought about what they wanted. I didn't bait the hook with strawberries and cream. Rather, I dangled a worm or grasshopper in front of the fish."

Carnegie mentioned that he "stole" some of his teachings from Jesus. Now, I've never read How to Win Friends and Influence People (maybe I should!), so I'm not sure if Carnegie stole things from the Beatitudes which we just heard in today's Gospel reading.  The Beatitudes, as they traditionally have been called, are a series of short statements Jesus made, each one starting with the word "blessed", at the beginning of what is called "The Sermon on the Mount."  Our text reports:  "Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down."  Just as an aside, when a rabbi or teacher sat down back in those days, it meant he was about to begin to teach, to start the lesson. He had no chalkboard, no slides for a PowerPoint presentation.  He didn't have a wired microphone wrapped around his ear and sliding down to his mouth.  Neither did He have a stage or a podium.  There was no Brooks Brothers suit tailored to perfection.  Tickets were not sold.  All He had was His words.  And my question is this:  did Jesus win friends and influence people with what He had to say?

"Well, of course he did," comes a voice from the choir loft.  "His teachings have impacted people for two thousand years."  Yes, they have!  But how do you explain this?  At the end of John chapter six, we read: "From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him."  Holy moly! They were just like people today.  As long as Jesus gives people what THEY want, they take the bait.  But the minute He gives them what He wants -- what Carnegie would call "strawberries and cream", they no longer follow Him. 

Maybe Jesus needs a Dale Carnegie course.  Based on the growth statistics of Protestant mainline congregations, maybe His church needs a Dale Carnegie course.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit," He says.  Poor in spirit?  Aren't you supposed to be rich in spirit?  Aren't you supposed to be driven, energetic, animated, a "type A" personality, a real go-getter?  "Poor in spirit" doesn't fit very well with that.  How can you accomplish anything worthwhile if you're poor in spirit?

"Blessed are those who mourn," He says.  Yes, grief comes and mourning is a part of life, but wouldn't we feel better if we avoided them like the plague?  How can you influence people and win them over to grief?

"Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth."  While the word "meek" is, for all intents and purposes, out of circulation, it basically means "humble", or "compliant", or "docile", "patient", "calm", etc.  They will inherit the earth?  One comedian remarked that it's not the "meek" who inherit the earth, it's those who stay up late and change the will! 

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness."  That's not the message the culture puts out there.  You hunger and thirst for what makes you feel good.  You hunger and thirst for influence, for celebrity, for your own entourage, for trends, for what's fashionable, for chemicals and substances that strip away any last inhibition and make you feel free!  Righteousness?  What's that?  So far, Jesus is  flunking the Dale Carnegie course.

"Blessed are the merciful," says Jesus.  Wait a minute.  One of Rush Limbaugh's "Indisputable Rules of Life" is that the world is "ruled by the aggressive use of force."  Somebody tell me:  where does mercy fit into all of that?

"Blessed are the pure in heart," Jesus goes on.  If a pure heart is the criterion, then nobody gets blessed.  I mean, really:  who has a pure heart?  Whose motives are without a tinge of selfishness?

"Blessed are the peacemakers," our Lord exclaims.  That's nice -- as long as our point of view carries the day and our side wins.  Then we'll have peace -- on our terms. 

"Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness."  How can you win friends and influence people if persecution is part of the mix?  Nobody will want to sign up for that.  Don't we all yearn for some sort of utopia where persecution of any kind is verboten?

"Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me." Jesus, please explain to me how -- just how in the world -- can I be blessed if I'm insulted, persecuted, and lied about.  Jesus, if you want to know how I'm feeling, I want to cancel this course and have my tuition refunded.  There's no way that I can win friends and influence people if I sign up for this.

As a minister of the Word, I've studied these Beatitudes and labored in them for years.  Sometimes they confuse me; at other times, they bless me.  This time I came away with a couple of insights.  First, Jesus isn't telling His followers -- both then and now -- how He wants the world to be or how He'll make it to be. Instead, He's telling it like it is.  One thing that continues to draw me to Jesus is that He never saw the world in rose-colored glasses.  He saw the world with 20/20 vision.  To carry the Carnegie analogy through, He sticks to his strawberries and cream and not putting worms or grasshoppers on the hook.  He tells people, in no uncertain terms, what they're signing up for when they follow Him.   Secondly, He's not trying to prescribe our behavior -- as in "be poor in spirit", be more "meek", be more "merciful", get yourself persecuted, etc.  He's not trying to prescribe; he's endeavoring to describe how it is. 

The kind of people Jesus describes in the Beatitudes are the kind of people that the world just passes right on by. They are the overlooked, the rejected.  They are the folks that no one wants to bother with.  Jesus knew that -- because He was one of them. 

He told it like it is -- and it got Him killed.  The truth shall set you free, but it may kill you first.

Christ has died! Christ has risen! Christ shall come again! And then, the people that the world passed right on by will be in the kingdom of heaven; they will be comforted; they will inherit the earth; they will be filled; they will be shown mercy; they will see God; they will be God's children; they will rejoice and be glad. 

The world can have its Dale Carnegie courses.  I'm sticking with Jesus.  How about you?

Amen.