Author: Jim Cantelon

Matthew 5
The Merciful v.7

First a word from Shakespeare, and then Jesus’ brother James:

“The quality of very is not strain’d
It droppeth as the gentle rain from Heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;
It blesses him that gives and him that takes:
‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown”
(Merchant of Venice, Act 4, Sc 1).

And,

“Judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not be merciful. Mercy trumps over judgment” (Ja. 2:13)

Then there’s the old French proverb: “to know all is to forgive all.”

In the Hebrew the word “heed” (mercy) has the nuance of “walking in the other person’s shoes.” It denotes “pity plus loving action.” And, without doubt, as Shakespeare suggests, the merciful have on at least one occasion (if not several) been shown mercy. You receive it, you give it. Self-righteousness and pride are eclipsed by mercy received. the merciful seldom, if ever, judge others.

With these words, Jesus proclaimed a counter-cultural view of human relations. In his time the Romans despised pity, and the Stoics dissed compassion. The Pharisees were strident and grating in their self-righteousness (“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices — mint, dill, and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law — justice, mercy and faithfulness…you blind guides!” (Mt. 23:23, 24). In their view if you suffered in any way it was because you had sinned. They were very much like “Job’s comforters”, or “Job’s wife”. Jesus, unlike them, has a Father who loves to forgive, and he loves those who do likewise.

Matthew 5
Those who Crave Righteousness v.6

Ps. 37 is not alone. Again and again the Old Testament speaks of the short shelf-life of the godless rich, and the long, everlasting future that awaits the virtuous poor. The young Virgin Mary captured it in what we not know as “The Magnificat” when she said, “God has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent empty away” (Lk. 1:53). The poor are hungry for righteousness.

We’re talking about a real hunger and thirst — a healthy, hearty spiritual appetite. It’s something that transcends our predisposition to failure, and even in the grip of moral or spiritual iniquity, there is a deep visceral longing for the highest good. One commentator astutely observed it’s like bing “haunted by goodness.” And, just like our hunger and thirst for food and water has to be satisfied on a daily basis, so too must our spiritual craving.Indeed, our need for righteousness is an indicator of health. Otherwise we are in decline, suffering, as Robert Louis Stevenson put it, “the malady of not wanting.” “Bring your hunger and thirst to the table,” Jesus is saying. “There’s more than enough to satisfy your deepest longing.”

Matthew 5
The Mourners v.4

Here we have what an old theologian called “a deep doctrine of sin, a high doctrine of joy.” St. Paul’s, “O wretchedness man that I am…” is followed by, “I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord…” (Ro. 7:24, 25). Comfort comes to those who mourn.

Jesus is addressing both those who’ve been bereaved and those whose poverty has driven them to spiritual despair. Whatever the source of the mourning, the sorrowing soul has been driven them to spiritual despair. Whatever the source of the mourning, the sorrowing soul has been driven to the deep. The mourner has “a broken and a contrite heart,” which, as we know from scripture, “The Lord will not despise” (Ps.51:17). The sorrow of repentance is eclipsed by the joy of forgiveness. There is not greater comfort. A crushing weight has been lifted from the soul.

The Meek v. 5

I wonder if Jesus was thinking of Psalm 37 as he spoke these words. King David was reflecting ono the apparent freedom of the wicked as they prospered with impunity. The godly ten to “fret” (v.1) and resent (v.8) the easy affluence of the evildoers. But David tells the righteous soul to “chill” and be patient. It’s only a matter of time (v.10) and the ungodly will perish. The only sustainable way to long-term peace and prosperity is “meekness”. The teachable, moldable, righteous and just soul will “inherit the earth” (v.11). The meek will prevail.

Matthew 5

The Poor in Spirit v. 3 – Part 2

According to the “Etymological Dictionary” the English word “bless” comes from old English, “blestsian”, “to consecrate, make holy” and the Proto-Germanic, “blouson”, to hallow with blood” — originally  to sprinkle blood on an alter. Both Latin and Greek words for “bless” indicate a “speaking well of”, or “praising”. In the Hebrew, “Barak” means “to bend the knee”, or “worship, praise, or invoke blessings”. Over time, the old English “bless” morphed into “bliss” to describe the state of someone who is blessed. So, the ancient preacher who said, “To bless is to bleed,” was not far from the mark. He, of course, was applying the meaning to Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. For his part, Jesus stresses the blessedness of the poor by declaring that they are privileged citizens in the Kingdom of Heaven. The greatest earthly mansion can’t compare.

By the way, I don’t see “in spirit” as a qualifier. The fact is that poverty has a huge oppressive impact. It not only dulls the eyes, and depresses the heart, but it wounds the spirit, sometimes to the point where all hope is gone. Abject poverty, and buoyant happiness are mutually exclusive. So, when the poor cry out to their maker it’s as though their blood cries out from the earth. God’s first reflex is to respond with grace and healing. The Kingdom of Heaven awaits.

The Poor in Spirit (v. 3) – Part 1

Jesus prioritized the poor. His “mission statement” was Isaiah 61 — “to preach good news to the poor…” (see Lk. 4:16-21). He made it clear that God the Father loves the poor because of their total dependency upon him. What’s more, it stood to reason that if “God so loved the world” his love had to begin with the weakest link. Otherwise there would be a material prerequisite for entry into the Kingdom of Heaven. With love for the poor as priority, the Lord precluded any socio-economic barrier to entry. The invitation was “whosoever will may come”.

No doubt, as he cast his eyes beyond the reclining disciples, he looked at some of the “hangers-on” who had followed them up the hill. The “halt, lame, and blind” would have been there, looking beseechingly at Jesus, hearing his words but impatient for the sermon to end so that he would heal them. Some stared out of empty, hollow eyes, so crippled by poverty that they had hardly made it up the hill. There were widows, orphans, both young and hold, and ragged folk in various modes of disrepair. They were the very people Jesus had come to save.

But at the moment his concern was the coaching, the mentoring of his chosen twelve. He makes it clear, however, just in case any of them saw the hangers-on as intruding, that the Gospel was to be preached first and foremost to the desolate.

“Blessed are” is translated by some theologians as, “O The blessedness of…!” The exclamation relates to how God sees those in need. The “blessed” ones live in the heady presence of God’s grace and faithfulness. They are on his radar. He knows their names and he is looking out for them. Because of this focus from the Lord they are truly blessed. They are in much greater shape, even in poverty (!), than the rich without God. Those who live beyond the pale of God’s grace and faithfulness are to be pitied.

The Sermon on The Mount (Matthew 5:1-7:29)

The “Mount of Beatitudes” provides one of the most beautiful vistas in all of Israel. Beginning at the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee, it slopes upward to a height about four hundred feet above the water. It is called a “mountain” but in fact is one of several foothills leading from the Lower Galilee to the Upper Galilee, culminating about their miles to the north in majestic Mount Hermon, ten thousand feet above sea level. Standing at the top of this storied foothill you look down on an awesome sight. Immediately below is Capernaum and Tabgha (where Jesus multiplied the loaves and fish) with the entire expanse of the Sea of Galilee glittering in the sunlight. From the prospect you see why the Israelis call the lake “Kinneret”, for it truly is harp-shaped. About twelve kilometres long and six wide, the lake is bordered by the might Golan Heights on the east, and the “Horns of Hittim”, a towering outcropping of jagged heights, on the west. Just a bit south of the Hittim horns is Tiberias, one of Israel’s four sacred cities. This is where much of the Talmud was written over the course of hundreds of years. Immediately on the right, about five kilometres away and one hundred meters higher than where you’re standing, is the ancient town of Safat, another of Israel’s sacred cities, the home of the “Kabalah”, the handbook of ancient Jewish mysticism. Today it’s a favourite Jewish tourist destination, rife with artists’ studios, and colourful old synagogues.

There are two constructions on the crown of the Mount: one is a Catholic nunnery, the other a beautiful chapel built with funds supplied by the Italian dictator Benito Mussolini. No one know why he built it, but it may have been and effort to leave a “good taste” with the historical record of his life. Sweeping down the hill to the very edge of the lake is a citrus orchard redolent with fragrance and peace. Between the mount and Safat on the west, the rocky slope is festooned with luscious green grass (in season) and herds of sheep. The entire setting is idyllic.

Adjacent to the chapel is a small grove of tall eucalyptus trees shading a fascinating outcropping of twelve basalt rocks “placed” in a circle of about thirty feet in diameter. This circle slopes downward with the contour of the mount and looks like the rocks were deliberately placed as some kind of monument. The rocks stick out of the ground at a height of two to three feet. There, in the shad of the eucalyptus trees, I imagine Jesus sitting down, his disciples lounging against the rocks as “lawn chairs”, and “opening his mouth” to teach. Such a pastoral picture for the greater “pastoral” sermon of all time.

The DNA of Jesus’ Ministry (Matthew 4:23-25)

The Galilee provided a doorway to the greater Roman province of Syria. Its territory essentially comprised northern Palestine, bounded by the Jordan river on the east, the Mediterranean ocean on the west, and the mountains of Lebanon on the north. From Mount Hermon, 10,000 feet above sea level in the north, the “upper Galilee” descended in plains and marshland (“Lake Hula”) to the “lower Galilee” four-hundred feet below  sea level where the Sea of Galilee sat in respondent beauty. Then, as it descended further, following the course of the Jordan (the “Down-rusher”),  it gave way to the Jordan Valley, and ultimately the Dead Sea, fifteen-hundred feet below sea level. The Galilee of Jesus’ time was essentially 40 miles from north to south, and 25 miles east to west. Heavily treed, well watered with streams from the northern mountains, and fertile with black volcanic soil, it was a great exporter of olive oil, vegetables, and fish. Cut off from Jerusalem by Samaria, it stood culturally alone, producing rugged farmers, fishermen and tradesmen — the “salt of the earth” labourers who spoke with a rich accent, seemingly unperturbed by their alienation from the Jewish city-dwellers in Jerusalem. When it was asked, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”, those elite urbanites might just have asked, “Can anything good come out of Galilee?” The Galileans ignored this snobbery and kept fishing.

As Jesus called disciples to follow him, he concurrently began to minister to the needs of the Galileans. He “proclaimed the Good News of the Kingdom” by preaching and teaching in the synagogues, and he demonstrated the Good News by healing the sick.

The synagogues were a natural place for Jesus to preach and teach. Brought up with a home synagogue in Nazareth, he was culturally tuned to local synagogues as renters of worship, education, and the administration of civil law. They were like local town halls, schools, and religious community centers. Most towns had several. Jerusalem in Jesus’ time (according to rabbinic tradition) had close to five hundred. As a preacher Jesus was uncompromising in announcing the inevitability of the Kingdom of Heaven. As a teacher he expounded on the meaning and significance of that inevitability. And, as a healer, he championed deliverance from suffering. Little wonder he drew crowds.