How Blest Are Those Who Know Their Need Of God
Sermon
God in Flesh Made Manifest
Cycle A Gospel Lesson Sermons For Advent, Christmas, And Epiphany
Object:
You may be familiar with the story. It is as wonderful as it is true.
A successful businessman was invited, about 15 years ago, to give a commencement address to a group of 61 sixth graders. The youngsters were about to graduate from an elementary school in a very poor part of one of our major cities.
If these boys and girls followed in the footsteps of the school's other alumni/ae, only about six or seven of them would graduate from high school and it would be remarkable if any went on to college.
The business executive began to gather his thoughts in order to compose the customary commencement address. You've heard it: the one that goes, "Work hard, keep your nose clean and your shoulder to the wheel and -- with a little bit of luck -- you can make it just as I did."
But the speech had a false ring to it. Empty words, the man thought; hollow words. These kids had little reason to hope and even less reason to try to beat the overwhelming odds stacked against them.
The man knew something radically different was called for if he was to make any impact whatsoever, if his presence in their lives was to be more than a momentary diversion, if the children's future was to take a different shape, a different texture.
And so in place of a commencement address, he made a surprising announcement that graduation day. To each and every one of the 61 girls and boys, he made a promise: I will pay for your college education. Completely.
He announced that he had established a fund and had made an initial deposit of $2,000 for each child. To that amount he would add each year until compounding interest and additional contributions would be sufficient to fund the college education of all 61 children.
Six years later, the students were in twelfth grade. All 61 of them! Not one had dropped out. Three had moved away, but they remained in touch with their benefactor, and the promise continued to hold for them as well.
Their grades were far superior to those of their predecessors. In fact, one of the ironies of the situation was that some of the students qualified for and were awarded academic scholarships!
Many of them accepted their benefactor's invitation to drop in on him from time to time. Among other things, they discussed their choice of colleges and careers. An astounding 58 of them finally attended college.
I have heard only periodic updates since that time, and all indicate the same: the lives of these individuals are markedly better than what they would otherwise have been.
Do you see what happened in the lives of these young people? Because the shape of their future was changed, thereby also was their present. In place of a conditional future ("If you work hard and apply yourself, then you might overcome the odds against you and succeed"), now there was an unconditional promise ("Because the cost of your higher education is paid for -- as a gift and not as an achievement or entitlement -- your studies are not in vain. Your efforts have meaning and purpose, and will bear fruit").
In theological terms, it is what we call the difference between law and gospel, between demand and promise. And the business executive's act of benevolence is an excellent and living parable of the gospel.
The sovereign God could say to us, "If you work hard, keep your nose clean and your shoulder to the wheel, then you might overcome the overwhelming odds against you and gain citizenship in my kingdom."
But our Gracious Benefactor chooses another way, and instead makes an astounding promise: "Because I love you, I will assume the impossibly steep cost of securing your final future, and I give that future to you freely, as a gift, now."
Such a magnanimous and magnificent gift -- free and unearned -- engenders the free response of faith, love, trust and gratitude.
And when that promise becomes part of us, an integral part of our identity, a working assumption underlying and undergirding our every act; when the promised future is something we can count on and eagerly await, knowing that its advent is utterly independent of our success or failure, then the very way we look at and think about and plan for and live our lives is fundamentally altered, and we become new beings, now, in this present moment.
We begin to view life from a different perspective. And the Beatitudes are a perfect window through which to view the breathtaking panorama of life. For through them, we see that when we are poor in spirit, when we mourn, when we are meek, when we hunger and thirst for righteousness -- when, in short, we haven't a single credit to our spiritual account -- then it is we are truly blessed: blessed because we know our futures are not finally dependent upon our spiritual wealth, the absence of anguish, our puny strength or meager righteousness; blessed because God cannot fill cups that are full, only cups that are empty. When we are empty vessels, that is when we are best prepared to receive the future that is God's promised gift to us, and not our moral or spiritual accomplishment.
Like those 61 boys and girls, our way has been paid by a gracious benefactor. Martin Luther said it well in his Small Catechism: "All this God has done out of fatherly and divine goodness and mercy, though I do not deserve it." And of the Second Person of the Trinity, Luther wrote, "He has saved me at great cost from sin, death and the power of the devil, not with silver or gold, but with his holy and precious blood and innocent suffering and death. All this he has done that I might be his own, live under him in his kingdom and serve him in everlasting righteousness, innocence and blessedness ..."
Because God in Christ has made us citizens of his kingdom, transferring us from a final future secured by our accomplishments to a future guaranteed by divine promise, our lives now, in this present moment, take on a new shape, a new texture. In a very real sense, we live life backwards, moving from death to life. God treats us now as the people will be when his kingdom comes in all its glory. Again, the Beatitudes give us the picture.
Because we have obtained and shall obtain mercy, we are even now free to be merciful.
Because we shall see God, our hearts are even now purified by that promise, for purity of heart is to place our trust in God and God's promises rather than in our own striving.
Because we are and shall be called daughters and sons of God, we are now and in this moment God's peacemakers, called to be about the blessed work of reconciliation in our families, congregation, community, nation and world. As children of God, we are called to take after our heavenly Father.
And because in all these things the kingdom of heaven is ours, we are and will be subject to persecution for righteousness' sake. For the world is ill-equipped and decidedly reluctant to hear and heed God's word of meekness and mercy; unready to receive God's gifts of purity of heart and peace.
So it is precisely in our efforts to live by faith that the Spirit of God holds ever before us the future our Father has promised and the Son has purchased. And we, who know our need of God, are blessed and renewed in the promise.
Drop out? Surely you jest! Drop in, and talk freely with our benefactor about the choices confronting us. For precisely in the struggle and the choosing, we are blessed.
Blessed to bear witness to a jaded and suspicious world: to announce to each and every one that her way, too, has been paid; that his future awaits him as a gift.
A successful businessman was invited, about 15 years ago, to give a commencement address to a group of 61 sixth graders. The youngsters were about to graduate from an elementary school in a very poor part of one of our major cities.
If these boys and girls followed in the footsteps of the school's other alumni/ae, only about six or seven of them would graduate from high school and it would be remarkable if any went on to college.
The business executive began to gather his thoughts in order to compose the customary commencement address. You've heard it: the one that goes, "Work hard, keep your nose clean and your shoulder to the wheel and -- with a little bit of luck -- you can make it just as I did."
But the speech had a false ring to it. Empty words, the man thought; hollow words. These kids had little reason to hope and even less reason to try to beat the overwhelming odds stacked against them.
The man knew something radically different was called for if he was to make any impact whatsoever, if his presence in their lives was to be more than a momentary diversion, if the children's future was to take a different shape, a different texture.
And so in place of a commencement address, he made a surprising announcement that graduation day. To each and every one of the 61 girls and boys, he made a promise: I will pay for your college education. Completely.
He announced that he had established a fund and had made an initial deposit of $2,000 for each child. To that amount he would add each year until compounding interest and additional contributions would be sufficient to fund the college education of all 61 children.
Six years later, the students were in twelfth grade. All 61 of them! Not one had dropped out. Three had moved away, but they remained in touch with their benefactor, and the promise continued to hold for them as well.
Their grades were far superior to those of their predecessors. In fact, one of the ironies of the situation was that some of the students qualified for and were awarded academic scholarships!
Many of them accepted their benefactor's invitation to drop in on him from time to time. Among other things, they discussed their choice of colleges and careers. An astounding 58 of them finally attended college.
I have heard only periodic updates since that time, and all indicate the same: the lives of these individuals are markedly better than what they would otherwise have been.
Do you see what happened in the lives of these young people? Because the shape of their future was changed, thereby also was their present. In place of a conditional future ("If you work hard and apply yourself, then you might overcome the odds against you and succeed"), now there was an unconditional promise ("Because the cost of your higher education is paid for -- as a gift and not as an achievement or entitlement -- your studies are not in vain. Your efforts have meaning and purpose, and will bear fruit").
In theological terms, it is what we call the difference between law and gospel, between demand and promise. And the business executive's act of benevolence is an excellent and living parable of the gospel.
The sovereign God could say to us, "If you work hard, keep your nose clean and your shoulder to the wheel, then you might overcome the overwhelming odds against you and gain citizenship in my kingdom."
But our Gracious Benefactor chooses another way, and instead makes an astounding promise: "Because I love you, I will assume the impossibly steep cost of securing your final future, and I give that future to you freely, as a gift, now."
Such a magnanimous and magnificent gift -- free and unearned -- engenders the free response of faith, love, trust and gratitude.
And when that promise becomes part of us, an integral part of our identity, a working assumption underlying and undergirding our every act; when the promised future is something we can count on and eagerly await, knowing that its advent is utterly independent of our success or failure, then the very way we look at and think about and plan for and live our lives is fundamentally altered, and we become new beings, now, in this present moment.
We begin to view life from a different perspective. And the Beatitudes are a perfect window through which to view the breathtaking panorama of life. For through them, we see that when we are poor in spirit, when we mourn, when we are meek, when we hunger and thirst for righteousness -- when, in short, we haven't a single credit to our spiritual account -- then it is we are truly blessed: blessed because we know our futures are not finally dependent upon our spiritual wealth, the absence of anguish, our puny strength or meager righteousness; blessed because God cannot fill cups that are full, only cups that are empty. When we are empty vessels, that is when we are best prepared to receive the future that is God's promised gift to us, and not our moral or spiritual accomplishment.
Like those 61 boys and girls, our way has been paid by a gracious benefactor. Martin Luther said it well in his Small Catechism: "All this God has done out of fatherly and divine goodness and mercy, though I do not deserve it." And of the Second Person of the Trinity, Luther wrote, "He has saved me at great cost from sin, death and the power of the devil, not with silver or gold, but with his holy and precious blood and innocent suffering and death. All this he has done that I might be his own, live under him in his kingdom and serve him in everlasting righteousness, innocence and blessedness ..."
Because God in Christ has made us citizens of his kingdom, transferring us from a final future secured by our accomplishments to a future guaranteed by divine promise, our lives now, in this present moment, take on a new shape, a new texture. In a very real sense, we live life backwards, moving from death to life. God treats us now as the people will be when his kingdom comes in all its glory. Again, the Beatitudes give us the picture.
Because we have obtained and shall obtain mercy, we are even now free to be merciful.
Because we shall see God, our hearts are even now purified by that promise, for purity of heart is to place our trust in God and God's promises rather than in our own striving.
Because we are and shall be called daughters and sons of God, we are now and in this moment God's peacemakers, called to be about the blessed work of reconciliation in our families, congregation, community, nation and world. As children of God, we are called to take after our heavenly Father.
And because in all these things the kingdom of heaven is ours, we are and will be subject to persecution for righteousness' sake. For the world is ill-equipped and decidedly reluctant to hear and heed God's word of meekness and mercy; unready to receive God's gifts of purity of heart and peace.
So it is precisely in our efforts to live by faith that the Spirit of God holds ever before us the future our Father has promised and the Son has purchased. And we, who know our need of God, are blessed and renewed in the promise.
Drop out? Surely you jest! Drop in, and talk freely with our benefactor about the choices confronting us. For precisely in the struggle and the choosing, we are blessed.
Blessed to bear witness to a jaded and suspicious world: to announce to each and every one that her way, too, has been paid; that his future awaits him as a gift.
