The Fourth Sunday after Epiphany (January 29, 2017)
Church of the Ascension and Saint Agnes – Washington, D.C.
Lectionary readings:
Micah 6:1-8; Psalm 15; 1 Corinthians 1:18-31; Matthew 5:1-12
While we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay.
There are frail forms fainting at the door.
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
‘Tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
– Hard Times by Stephen Foster (famously covered by Bob Dylan)
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Silence. Several weeks ago, when I began to reflect on our passages for today, the need for silence was the first thought that came to my mind. In a world so complicated, so divided, so mired in sin, what more could possibly be said than what Christ says here.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed…
Blessed…
Blessed…”
Silence, though, is paradoxical. As some you may know, earlier in my life I spent a few years practicing a Japanese form of Zen Buddhism. Among many things which that experience taught me, it taught me that silence is paradoxical. It is an emptiness that is yet somehow full. It is an inaction full of action. It can be both profoundly holy and profoundly unholy.
We hear this holy silence – silence in its fullness – from the prophet Micah this morning. As he runs through a list of complicated ritualized actions to right himself before God, he finally concludes that in the end what is ultimately required is “to do justice… to love kindness, and to walk humbly with… God.” A holy silence in which we humble ourselves and become totally immersed in God’s work of justice and mercy in the world.
On the other hand, however, silence can also be empty, unholy. Through the words of his most famous poem, the German Lutheran pastor and Nazi critic Martin Niemoller describes this sinful silence:
“First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out because I was not a Socialist. Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out because I was not a Trade Unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak for me.”1
Silence, while necessary to hear the voice of God, can also be silence in the face of injustice.
So, what, you may be wondering, does any of this have to do with the Beatitudes? As I mentioned at the beginning, there is this inherent duality in the nature of these admonitions. On the one hand it seems quite inappropriate to say anything more. How powerful, how challenging, how liberating these pronouncements are. And yet, on the other hand, these pronouncements in their very nature compel us to further action. We can sit here today, listen to these words, and still walk out the doors of this church without ever being challenged or moved by their implication. It seems rather straight forward to talk about how blessed the poor, the meek, the persecuted, the pure of heart are, but if that does not compel us to live more authentically Christian lives, if that does not challenge us in our own complacency, then what good is its hearing?
Sometimes situations of all sorts – political, social, or otherwise – dictate or necessitate a response on the part of the Christian community. The silence of walking humbly with, and listening deeply to, God should always compel us towards actions of kindness and justice. Sometimes, the world acts in such an unchristian way that we must respond in a voice that proclaims the Gospel we know to be true.
What we hear today is a call to action. It is a call to protect and uphold the poor, the meek, the hungry, the thirsty, and those who mourn. When we are merciful, we receive mercy. When we are pure in heart, we see God. When we are peacemakers, we live into our inheritance as children of God.
To talk about mercy and peacemaking amidst so much violence in the world may seem utter insanity from any policy making position, and yet what does Paul say in our Epistle today but that the Gospel, God’s Word in the person and life of Jesus Christ, is utter foolishness to the world. God’s reality does not bend to beltway politics.
For Christians, we have to transcend the fraughtness of division and conflict that the world promotes. For Christians, there is ultimately only one outcome: God’s total victory and enfolding of everything back into Himself. There is no potential alternative. The victory is already won. When we are silent and listen deeply to the call of action in the Beatitudes, we see that fear is no longer operative.
Fear does not dictate a Christian response.
We cannot not turn away the huddled, hurting people on our doorstep because we are afraid of their potential to do harm.
We are blessed when we are merciful, and through mercy we will receive mercy ourselves.
Now, again silence is paradoxical. Silence can be holy. Sometimes we act too quickly and too impulsively when we instead should be listening more deeply. Sometimes in our rush towards action, we promote our own sense of Social Justice above the fuller, more complete reality of God’s Justice. Sometimes we find ourselves fixated
on key socio-theological issues while ignoring the larger reality of God’s work in the world that we are being invited into.
So, in the end, where does this leave us? Look again at the proclamations before us today. We are called to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God. And how do we do this? We do this through mercy, through compassion, through peacemaking. Ultimately, we do this through relationship. God’s work of justice in the world looks different for each and every one of us. We each have our own individual ministries of compassion and righteousness that we are called to in our lives. God’s work of justice in the world, however, is also corporate; and we as the assembled, worshiping body of Christ also have a ministry of kindness and mercy. We are called as a community to reach out into the brokenness of the world to call people together into the enfolding love of God.
This is the dual reality of silence, the dual reality of humble listening and compassionate action. In the stillness and silence of these proclamations from Christ, we hear the voice of God. We hear our call to action individually and corporately. The call to justice, to kindness, and to humility. We hear the call to relationship. This may seem foolish, but God chooses what is foolish in the world to shame the wise. This may seem weak, but God chooses what is weak in the world to shame the strong. In the Beatitudes, we find the fundamental character of the Christian life. It is often not a safe or popular life, but we are not called to safety nor are we called to popularity. “Do justice, and love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.” Hear again the words of Christ – “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven…”
Amen
1 Martin Niemoller. “First they came for the Socialists…” (accessed through: https://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/article.php?ModuleId =10007392)
Ad Orientem 