The Scope of Our Need

Today is part 4 of a series on the first Beatitude from Matthew 5:3 – “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

In this post, we begin later in the same chapter as the Beatitudes, where Jesus includes as sin matters of the soul’s inclination, which are entirely internal:

You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.’  But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire.” – Matthew 5:21-22
You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” – Matthew 5:27-28

Some people say that what is done in private, either alone or with other “consenting” people, is none of our business.  “Who does it hurt?” they say.  In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells everyone that He cares about what they do, in public and in private.  Even within themselves.  He is not saying this to embarrass anyone, but to break down their spiritual pride and lead them to depend on Him.  To Jesus, intent makes us spiritually poor as much as action does.  Sin is not a matter of consequence; it is a matter of conscience.  It includes not only the action, but the inclination to the action.

But who does it hurt; some might ask?  When excluding from our definition of sin things that other people don’t see, we may be tempted to turn faith into performance art, like the scribes and Pharisees, who “do all their deeds to be seen by others. For they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long, and they love the place of honor at feasts and the best seats in the synagogues and greetings in the marketplaces and being called rabbi by others.”[1]  Those “ashamed” from Monday’s post who come to church looking for compassion will only feel alienated unless they join in the performance.

If only public righteousness matters, the pressure of keeping up appearances can mean that internal sins – though just as important as external sins that have obvious consequences – remain private and un-dealt with, keeping us from relying on Jesus to restore the joy of our salvation!  Compensating for guilt, and the pressure of managing expectations, become primary drivers of action rather than the guidance of the Spirit, and the fruit of the Spirit is nowhere to be found.    When we know we are not really changed and are failing, we may try to hide it to keep up appearances.  We harbor guilt and bitterness and become unable to accept ourselves and love others.

Instead, testimony of our brokenness is an essential part of Christian witness.  In his letters, the Apostle Paul repeatedly mentions his own past because it highlights the grace of God and power of Christ in redeeming him.  Likewise, those connected to Christ must confess their brokenness openly and ask His help.  Hiding our brokenness – keeping it private (sometimes even trying to keep it from Him) – obscures the power and necessity of the gospel from those who need to hear and understand it, and also keeps us from experiencing its power in our souls.  If we do not count as brokenness things where we do not see the consequence, we keep Jesus at a distance and the kingdom of heaven will not rule us.  Who does it hurt?  Well, us to begin, but also those around us who we love less as a result of hidden, secret sin.

Humanity’s need is spiritual, and our brokenness comes from the inside, not the outside.  From conscience, not consequence.  When humanity denies that brokenness is an internal, sometimes hidden, problem, it will face only the symptoms of the problem, and with the wrong prescriptions.  External forces cannot fix our internal inclinations and will tend toward the original sin of Adam and Eve, seeking the tree of wisdom in the garden that seems to offer an alternate way of governing ourselves.  Any laws, including some forms of religion, or systems of coercion will not fundamentally change us, but may provide an appearance of doing so, or worse, an incentive for a harsher system of coercion.  When coercion isn’t working, and spiritual solutions are denied, greater coercion often follows.  Unless we know we are broken, and how we are broken, we refuse the solution offered by the kingdom of heaven and remain lost looking for an alternative that does not exist[2].

We must not accept anything less than Christ’s righteousness.  But we must accept Christ’s righteousness at our very core.  Only the power of the gospel – the good news of the kingdom of God – can make straight what is crooked at its very internal, often secret, root[3].

And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.” – Acts 4:12 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” – Matthew 5:3


[1] Matthew 23:5-7
[2] I’m not advocating for anarchy or libertarianism or any particular form of government but pointing out that what a society thinks its government can, and should, do reflects that society’s view on what it expects government to solve.
[3] Ecclesiastes 1:15 and 7:13

Give Up Your Lists

Today is part 3 of a series on the first Beatitude from Matthew 5:3 – “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”  Monday covered how the statement could make both the “proud” and the “ashamed” humble and be blessed by God.  Tuesday was about the rich young man who was fully set on earning his own salvation to see that it was impossible, all while Christ was right before him, loving him and offering him salvation by grace.

Today begins with Luke 18:10-14 –

Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.  The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’  But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’  I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.

Similar to Monday’s post, this passage is a rebuke to the proud, while comforting the ashamed, which is made clear at the end of these verses.  This passage also plays on stereotypes of the Pharisee as one who would have been perceived as religiously superior, versus the tax collector, who was under the ban, or that time period’s rabbinic version of excommunication[1].  At the end of the first sentence, the audience would have been expecting the Pharisee to pray well – after all, they were the “experts.”  But as an “expert” in the law, the Pharisee prays (and thinks) in terms of lists of good things and lists of bad things.  As a result, he is able to credit himself with all good things and the tax collector with all bad things because his lists aren’t complete.

The Pharisee manages this level of pride in spiritual accomplishment by narrowing down his list of sins to “things that other people do.”  He also excluded more subtle or internal manifestations of sin from his lists.  For example, at other times, Jesus said Pharisees “devour widow’s houses,”[2] which may have been a form of extortion.  Also, in his heart he may have been unjust and an adulterer just by making this prayer – judging the tax collector and misrepresenting God.  God’s justice on the tax collector was poured out on Jesus – who was this Pharisee to say who that justice applied to?  Also, in over-emphasizing the law, the Pharisee was “cheating” on God by idolizing the law as a way to salvation.

By narrowing the list of sins to “what others do,” and reducing those sins to the external evidence of them, rather than the heart level, this Pharisee blinded himself to his own need, and therefore missed the blessing of the Beatitude.  The only way to feel rich in spirit before God is to lower the standard, or to humbly accept Christ’s righteousness – the riches of His spirit – in place of your own.

In Psalm 51, King David wrote of his repentance after committing adultery with Bathsheba and having her husband Uriah killed in verses 16-17:

For you will not delight in sacrifice, or I would give it;
            you will not be pleased with a burnt offering.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
            a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

This broken spirit and contrite heart recall the first Beatitude’s promise of blessing and the ability to follow God’s will, which David prayed for back in verse 12 of Psalm 51:

Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
            and uphold me with a willing spirit.

We can’t constantly compare our record of our sins with our record of the sins of others if we want to receive God’s blessing.  Our records are always incomplete and biased.  Doing so is only likely to destroy our ability to love those who God loves and to whom He offers His grace, including ourselves.  We are poor in spirit, but we only realize it when focusing on Him, and we only are blessed when we decide His standard and opinion are the ones that matter.  If we are Christians, the standard is Christ and through our adoption as children of God, He sees Christ’s righteousness when He gives His opinion of us.

Humbly knowing this, we can go to our house justified, and in eternity be exalted by Him, the only one we should compare ourselves to and the only one whose judgement matters.  For now, this humility enables us to love God and love others as we love ourselves.

To find joy, give up your lists of sins and replace them with Christ.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” – Matthew 5:3


[1] See an earlier post, Found! A Man in Need of an Ally, for an explanation of the ban as applied to tax collectors, and for Jesus’ striking decision to forgive Zacchaeus, a chief tax collector.
[2] Mark 12:40; Luke 20:47

Broken, But Not Beyond Repair

Actual disaster footage. Viewer discretion advised.

A doctor friend of mine said there’s an inside joke that “if you put two bones alone in a room together, they’ll find each other.”  I heard this after breaking my left collarbone in the summer of 2011.  Even when I was young, I wasn’t a great athlete, but I did always hustle.  So after a decade of not doing much athletically, I joined my work softball league and thought at least I would try hard and have fun.  But when I hit a weak ground ball to the shortstop and decided to “hustle,” disaster saw its opportunity.  The fields we played on were poorly maintained, with holes where the hitters stand.  Instead of doing the smart thing and stopping after I tripped in this hole, I tried to keep running (because hustle!) and soon ended up falling hard on my shoulder with a loud snapping sound.  The picture above is my actual X-ray from that night.

This isn’t a great memory, but it’s also a reminder of the miracle of healing. I had the option of surgery or just letting it grow back together, and I chose letting it heal.  However, it didn’t “just” get fixed. It was by design and no accident.

My collarbone was broken clean through, with the two sides of the bone not even touching any more.  I could feel them moving around independently.  When I think about the millions of “decisions” the cells in these bones, interacting with the tissue around them, had to make to do something they’ve never done before, I have to be convinced something beyond my own anatomy and genetic history was at work.  An impersonal evolution may have never seen these bones break in just this way before, so how did the bones know what to do?  I certainly wasn’t aware of telling these bones what to do.  They didn’t “just” fix themselves.

I can only credit the creative power of my Maker, along with David, who wrote:
For you formed my inward parts;
            you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
            my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
            intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
            the days that were formed for me,
            when as yet there was none of them.” – Psalm 139:13-14

Everyday Miracles
Miracles happen every single day in every human body, yet we often miss them or refuse to call them miracles.  Maybe we do that because calling them miracles would mean we have to give credit to the power behind the miracle, and we’d rather not.  Ever since Adam and Eve looked at God’s good creation and decided they’d rather make their own decisions, mankind has persisted in acting like bones that would rather grow apart than follow their Creator’s design.  As a result, the world is broken into billions of personalities that don’t know how to connect, that don’t know how to knit agape love into the trillions of decisions they make, and interactions they have, each day. 

We all have a choice in every moment: do we “just” do whatever we think is best and expect the right outcome to “just” happen, or do we look at nature and think that maybe the Person who knows how to make bones fix themselves knows how to guide our lives to the best outcome.

Our heavenly Father wants to knit us together once again, in a world that isn’t broken and where we aren’t broken.  None of us are beyond repair, and our Maker will restore us if we let Him.  Every human being in history has been bad at love, except One, and He is calling to every one of us to trust Him.  “Just Do It” is not a good motto.

Many are the afflictions of the righteous,
            but the LORD delivers him out of them all.
He keeps all his bones;
            not one of them is broken.” – Psalm 34:19-20

Mourning Has Value

The second Beatitude from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount says: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matthew 5:4).  Mourning logically follows our awareness from the first Beatitude of needing Jesus because we are poor in Spirit, and our awareness that every bad thing in this world is a result of sin.  When we mourn as Christians, we deeply acknowledge that we aren’t happy with the consequences of having sought our own way.

Many religions and philosophies see no value in sorrow.  Ancient Greek and Roman philosophers hated it and strived to avoid it.  Eastern religions sometimes deny its reality and seek to live above it.  On the other hand, in Christianity and Judaism stories like those of Job are highly valued, and verses like these from Ecclesiastes 7:2-4 are common –

It is better to go to the house of mourning
            than to go to the house of feasting,
for this is the end of all mankind,
            and the living will lay it to heart.
Sorrow is better than laughter,
            for by sadness of face the heart is made glad.
The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning,
            but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth.”

In Christianity, mourning can have value, helping sanctify us, making us more like Christ.  Mourning can be a form of confession – a way of saying the same thing about sin that God does.  When we mourn doing wrong things or neglecting things that should have been done, we agree with God on what is “wrong” and what “should” be done.  It is not the same as repentance but is often a preceding part of it.

Therefore, we should mourn!  Emotionally reacting to sin and its effect on the world means that knowing we are “poor in spirit” is more than just an intellectual or logical idea.  Sin needs to mean something to us, deeply.  However, this mourning is not the same as despair, depression, or meaninglessness.  In the words of JRR Tolkien, spoken through the wizard Gandalf in the Lord of the Rings: “Despair is only for those who see the end beyond all doubt.”  Only God can see the end, and there is more to come!  In Christianity it is but part of a journey.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” – Matthew 5:4

The Beautiful Letdown

While this blog got its name from an old twenty øne piløts song called “Taxi Cab,” my second choice would be to use something from “The Beautiful Letdown” by Switchfoot.  The line – “set sail for the Kingdom come” – would have been a good blog title!  I’ve intended to post about the song for some time, and it fits in with this week’s other posts, so here we are.

The theme of “The Beautiful Letdown” is that while we don’t like being let down or disappointed, it’s a beautiful and blessed thing when we are let down by the things of this world, because that is when we can find God.  In Jeremiah 3:21-23, God calls His people to turn back to Him from the many temptations of the world in striking language:

A voice on the bare heights is heard,
            the weeping and pleading of Israel’s sons
because they have perverted their way;
            they have forgotten the LORD their God.
“Return, O faithless sons;
            I will heal your faithlessness.”
“Behold, we come to you,
            for you are the LORD our God.
Truly the hills are a delusion,
            the orgies on the mountains.
Truly in the LORD our God
            is the salvation of Israel.

The language is striking because we don’t like being told that the things we worship are a delusion, and we don’t like being accused of spiritual adultery, but regardless, being let down from the delusions of the world is a beautiful thing, because it’s a requirement for knowing God more deeply.  Back to the Switchfoot song, the lyrics say it’s beautiful when we find out that “all the riches this world had to offer me would never do,” but that “we’re still chasing our tails and the rising sun.”  It also says its ok to be “painfully uncool” by the world’s standards because those are the wrong standards.  We are “the church of the dropouts, the losers, the sinners, the failures and the fools.”

But perhaps my favorite part of the song is the bridge:

“Easy living, you’re not much like your name
Easy dying
Hey, you look just about the same
Won’t you please take me off your list
Easy living, please come on and let me down”

Wouldn’t it be nice to be “off the list” of messages from the world lying about how amazing it is, and how easy things would be if we just bought the right products and had the right lifestyle?  If only we floated along with the world’s idea of progress?  However, as C. S. Lewis wrote: “We all want progress…but if you’re on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive.”  Being let down by the world is a good thing.

To listen to the full song, click on the video below.
To just read the full lyrics on genius.com, use this link: https://genius.com/Switchfoot-the-beautiful-letdown-lyrics

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.  Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ” – Philippians 3:7-8