Wesley's Sermon 25: Upon Our Lord's Sermon on the Mount, Discourse 5

[This is a post on one of John Wesley's Sermons as part of the Getting to Know John series. See the other posts here.] This is the fifth of Wesley's thirteen sermons on Jesus' Sermon on the Mount (Matthew chapters 5, 6, and 7). This sermon focuses on Matthew 5:17-20:

17“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. 18For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. 19Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven.20For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Wesley makes some brilliant points in this message, which are important to understanding him, his theology, and his ministry.Although Wesley organizes this sermon verse-by-verse (which is unusual for him), the key themes that emerge include the relationship of the law to the gospel, and what inward and outward holiness have to do with one another.

In examining Jesus' words in this passage about the law, Wesley makes a strong case for an idea that would be just as controversial among Christians in our day as it was in his: there is no conflict between the law and the gospel. A view which many hold today, and apparently did in Wesley's day also, is that the law was only in place until the coming of Jesus, and is now no longer necessary because of Jesus' gospel. Wesley, and apparently in this passage- Jesus himself, would have none of that.

Rather than the law and gospel being at odds with one another, or at least one doing away with the other, Wesley makes the case that they both do the same thing in different ways. The law, he says, points us toward life through commands, while the gospel does so through promises. The law makes way for and points us toward the gospel, and the gospel makes it possible for us to fulfill the law.

Let's try to put some skin around this by looking at the great commandments, which both come from Old Testament law, to love God and love our neighbors as ourselves. The law says, "you must do this," and the gospel says, "you are able to do this." In other words, God will work in us (gospel) that which God commands of us (law). Neither of these can be set aside in the way of Jesus.

Another part of the sermon that stands out is Wesley's comments on the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, and what it means that our righteousness should surpass theirs. Again, his comments aren't what many of us would be expecting to hear.

Rather than only claiming that the Scribes and Pharisees' righteousness was outward, and ours can exceed those by not trusting in outward things, but in an inward faith, Wesley again holds on to both sides of the spectrum. He gives the Scribes and Pharisees credit for how outwardly devoted they were and makes the case that our righteousness can't exceed theirs if it can't even catch up to theirs. Using Luke 18:9-14 to illustrate, Wesley points out how devoted the Scribes and Pharisees were in their practices of being different from others for what they thought were God's purposes, their practices of fasting, prayer, sacrifices, and studying the Scriptures, and how they gave of what they had to help others. So, rather than advising us to set aside the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, Wesley says that if we are to exceed them, we must first catch up to them.

In other words, we need those outward things that we normally chastise the Scribes and Pharisees for having trusted in. The main difference, and how our righteousness is to exceed theirs, is that in the way of Jesus, we are pursuing inward and outward holiness. To propose that either could exist without the other is unthinkable for Wesley.

To dig in further to this sermon:

Top Posts for June 2011

A Prayer for the Fourteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year A)

[This is one of a series of Prayers for the Christian Year. To see the other posts, click here.] Living, loving Father,

You are our Lord, our King, and we bow our hearts in worship to You today. Even though You are over all, we are humbled because, for some reason, You desire us and have come in pursuit of our hearts.

Your pursuit of us has taken many forms, surely more than we are aware of. In everything that we have done, every place we have been, every person we have encountered, and every task we have set ourselves to doing, You have been there. You were with us all along, You were there before we were, working good before we had any idea, and You remain after us, keeping all of Your children in Your loving care.

Yet if this is true, why do we still find ourselves so far from You? Free us, O God, from the things that hold us back from You, from the sin that dwells in our bodies. May we come to delight in You as You delight in us, so that our minds, hearts, bodies, and souls may all be rescued as we learn more fully to live under the easy yoke and light burden of Your Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ.

We come today to receive the rest for our souls that He promised, entrusting the things that burden us over to You. And again we take His yoke upon us, for we are Your children and His students, praying the prayer that He taught us, saying,

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name, Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as in heaven.

Give us today our daily bread.

Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.

Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil.

For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are Yours now and for ever. Amen

Notes:

Depending on which system of ordering one pays attention to, this Sunday can also be referred to as Proper 9, or (in 2011) the Third Sunday after Pentecost. Regardless of the system, the readings are the same. So, the readings for this week, on which this prayer is based, are:

  • Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67: The seventh of thirteen possible consecutive readings after Pentecost from Genesis, and the fifth of five on the life of Abraham, although he is only an indirect character in this week's passage. This is the story of Abraham's servant being sent back to Abraham's native land to find a wife for his son, Isaac.
  • Psalm 45:10-17: A wedding psalm which has also traditionally been interpreted as a Messianic prophecy.
  • Romans 7:15-25a: The sixth of sixteen possible consecutive readings after Pentecost from Romans. In this passage, Paul famously describes his tendency to do the things he does not want to do and his inability to do the good things he does want to do. He concludes with the question and answer, "Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!"
  • Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30: All of the gospel readings after Pentecost in Year A come from Matthew. This passage is Jesus' thanksgiving to God that he had revealed his identity to "infants" and hidden it from "the wise and the intelligent." It concludes with Jesus' profound invitation to take his yoke, learn from him, and find rest for our souls, because his yoke is easy and his burden is light."

Completely Unhelpful Thoughts I've Shared With My Son

A few days ago, I was tucking my two year old son into bed, and he started begging me to lay on his floor as he fell asleep. I've done that at times in the past, particularly if he doesn't feel good, but we generally like for him to go to sleep by himself.

As I looked at his face and tried to think of the best response to, "But Daddy, I really need you to lay down on my floor for a little while," I thought that I had a moment of fatherhood brilliance.

The idea came to mind to use the moment to teach a profound spiritual truth to my toddler about God's presence with us. He has a book we read together at night that has a line where a person smiles and whispers, "God is here." So I thought to myself, "That's it! I'll teach him that God is in the room with him, and then it will let me off the hook about having to lay on his floor." The conversation went something like this.

Little D: But Daddy, I really need you to lay down on my floor for a while.

Me: Hey, Bud, you know that part in your book where someone smiles and whispers, "God is here"?

Little D: Yeah.

Me: Well, it's like that. I can't stay in your room right now, but God is here with you. So if you're laying here in your bed, you can look over there and imagine that God is laying on your floor while you fall asleep.

Little D:

Me: Does that help a little bit?

Little D, without any moment of hesitation: No.

He made it very clear that he wasn't willing to accept theology in exchange for my presence in the room (even though I still think my theology was good). As soon as he did so, I knew what I had done was a bit silly; two year olds need their dads to be there in front of their eyes and live out what God is like, much more than they need us to use words to try to explain to them that an invisible God is always near. There are things about this that are both troubling and relieving to me.

Why it troubles me: I feel like I'm pretty good at explaining theology to people, but living it out in front of the always-learning eyes of a pre-schooler is a different ballgame. I enjoy talking about theology, I've got a really good sermon in my file about God's presence with us, and talking about these things with people is even part of what I get paid to do. But those things didn't do my little boy one ounce of good the other night.

What he told me with his quick "No" was that he needs a daddy whose character is so much like that of Jesus that it will make the theology lessons come easier later on. He needs me to be the kind of person who, by seeing me every day, will help him when he gets older and starts to think for himself about what we mean when we say that God is here, or is loving, good, forgiving, trustworthy, or holy... that those things will be very naturally believable to him because of how he has seen them in the life of his Daddy right before his eyes.

That sounds good as a write it, but it's a very tall order when I'm crabby, just wanting people to go along with my own plans so that I can accomplish the things I want to, and certainly not feeling much like that kind of Daddy that he needs. There are plenty of times that I would prefer trying to explain sanctification to a two year old than give him living proof of it.

But here's why it relieves me: because that Daddy that he wants and needs, who shows him what God's character is like and passes it on to him, is not only who he needs but is also who I most want to be. If I work at answering the question, deep-down at my gut level, of what I want most in life... that's it. I want to be that kind of man for my family. So I'm relieved that I don't have to come up with a children's book that would effectively help my kids understand atonement theories or the widely different views on eschatology, but instead that my main task is to shape my life in a way that I will predictably become more and more who they need me to be.

It's still a rare night that I lay down on his floor while he falls asleep, but I'm glad he gave me the reminder that my theology degrees are really not helpful to him, unless he can see with his eyes what they mean as he watches me.

So I guess I'll give up on that idea of reading Wesley's sermons to him for bedtime stories...

Wesley's Sermon 24: Upon Our Lord's Sermon on the Mount, Discourse 4

[This is a post on one of John Wesley's Sermons as part of the Getting to Know John series. See the other posts here.]

"Christianity is essentially a social religion... to turn it into a solitary one is to destroy it."

This is the fourth of Wesley’s thirteen sermons on Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount (Matthew chapters 5, 6, and 7). This sermon focuses on Matthew 5:13-16: "You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world... A city on a hill cannot be hidden... Let your light shine before others..."

Wesley says some brilliant stuff in this sermon. Much of it is a counter-argument against a movement in his day called "quietism," which taught that Christians only needed to worship God inwardly so as to avoid trusting too much in anything outward. Wesley never denies the importance of the inner aspects of our faith; in fact, he encourages ample time alone with God (at least two periods of solitude every day!). But he says that the inward roots have to produce outward branches in our lives with others, or else we cannot fulfill the kind of life that Jesus describes in the Sermon on the Mount.

Wesley begins this sermon by explaining the quotation above, that Christianity is essentially a social religion and to turn it into a solitary one is to destroy it. What he means by Christianity being a "social religion" is that it does not survive at all without "society" (which he describes as living and conversing with others; today we would be more likely to use the word "community"). He then describes the absurdity (also described by Jesus) of thinking that the light God has put into our souls can or should be hidden. Then he concludes the sermon by answering foreseen objections from critics.

Wesley is a master at holding together things which seem to be opposites, and finding a place of tremendous strength in hanging on to them both. This sermon is a great example of how he does this, in this case with "inward religion" and "outward religion." Christians of all groups would do well to dig into what he says here.

For further exploration of this sermon:

A Prayer for the Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year A)

[This is one of a series of Prayers for the Christian Year. To see the other posts, click here.] Living, loving Father,

Sometimes it seems like You have forgotten us, Your own children. We look, but cannot see Your face. We have pain in our souls, sorrow in our hearts, and it seems as if we are being destroyed while You stand by.

Yet experience has taught us that Your timing is different, and much better, than our own. Even when it seems that we are about to lose everything that gives our lives meaning, we have seen You intervene just in time. You do not act too early, nor do You act too late, and in the end Your love always has always proven to be unfailing.

We have come to know that the road of obeying You, following along in Your ways, often does not feel easy. We may be asked to follow You up some difficult mountains. This was asked of Your friend Abraham, and has been asked of many of Your friends through the centuries, including Your own Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ.

So give us strength when following You is not easy, by helping us to remember that even at the worst conceivable moments, Abraham trusted Your love, Jesus trusted Your love, and we are invited to do the same.

We know that we are not alone on this path, but that many others have walked it before us, and many walk it alongside us now.

As we walk where You lead us, following the example of Jesus, we are taught how to speak to others with our mouths like He would , how to serve and give cups of cold water with our hands like He would, how to follow Him with our feet farther along in Your ways. As we do so, we realize that our bodies and our whole beings become more and more able to do the things that You want and less and less inclined to separate ourselves from You.

So continue to lead us along in the ways of Your Son. Although we do not know where You are taking us, we know that You have dealt always bountifully with us, and You will continue to do so forever.

As we we continue along this way as Jesus' students, again today we take the step of praying the prayer that He taught us, saying,

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name, Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as in heaven.

Give us today our daily bread.

Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.

Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil.

For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are Yours now and for ever. Amen

Notes:

This week, the readings shift from being aligned with one another to being aligned over a series of weeks. In other words, during the seasons of the Christian year of Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter, the four readings for each week have a connection to one another, something like this:

However, as of this week, we are full-swing into "Ordinary Time." We don't call it ordinary in the sense of being plain or boring, but in the sense of being sequenced. So, instead of a particular reading relating to the other readings in that same week, most often during Ordinary Time, a particular reading will be part of a sequence, like this:

Depending on which system of ordering one pays attention to, this Sunday can also be referred to as Proper 8, or (in 2011) the Second Sunday after Pentecost. Regardless of the system, the readings are the same. So, the readings for this week, on which this prayer is based, are:

  • Genesis 22:1-14: The sixth of thirteen possible consecutive readings after Pentecost from Genesis, and the fourth of five on the life of Abraham. This passage recounts God's testing of Abraham, when he asked him to sacrifice his son Isaac. When God saw that Abraham would obey, he intervened and provided a ram to be the sacrifice in Isaac's place. It's striking that God did not tell Abraham about the fuller plan as soon as he'd made up his mind to obey, but Abraham went through every possible step in obedience short of actually taking his son's life. God intervened at the last possible moment. God provides, but often not until we're up on that mountain.
  • Psalm 13: A psalm of lament (or complaint) by David, pleading for God to deliver him from his enemies. As is common, the psalm ends with a steadfast commitment to trust in God, who despite the current appearances, has always proven himself faithful.
  • Romans 6:12-23: The fifth of sixteen possible consecutive readings after Pentecost from Romans. In this passage, Paul encourages his readers train their bodies to live into their identity as servants of righteousness, rather than submitting themselves to further domination by sin.
  • Matthew 10:40-42: All of the gospel readings after Pentecost in Year A come from Matthew, and this is the third of three possible readings on Jesus' commissioning of the twelve apostles to go and minister to others. In this week's reading, Jesus teaches his students that as people treat them (and, therefore, as we treat others), it is as if the same treatment is being given directly to him.

The Biggest Hurdle to Great Ministry

I have more confidence in one book on Christian leadership than any other that I've read, and that book is Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership by Ruth Haley Barton. (Click to find out more about Ruth's ministry, The Transforming Center.) Each time that I revisit one of its chapters, something new sticks with me, but the powerful premise on which Ruth bases the entire book is this: "Truly, the best thing any of us have to bring to leadership is our own transforming selves" (page 19).

Upon first glance, it may not seem like all that radical of a statement, but if we let ourselves be put to its test, it won't take long to find some of the many ways in which we don't really believe it. Particularly in ministry leadership, it implies:

  • my own process of becoming more like Christ is more important than any skills I bring to the table, which means
  • my ability to love others well is more important than my ability lead them, which means
  • the degree to which Jesus' life in me is so abundant that it will naturally influence those around me is more important than my ability to manage them, to preach a moving sermon to them, or set meaningful goals and objectives for them, which means
  • although it's great for me to develop all of these skills and others, to do so without giving ample time, space, and attention to the things that lead to my transformation to become more like Jesus is to miss the point.

Not only have I been tremendously challenged by this statement from Ruth, but I've been equally challenged by its natural corollary. If our own transforming selves are the most important thing to move us forward in leadership as Christians, we can carry the statement another step forward and identify the biggest hurdle to great Christian leadership:

my own unlikeness to Jesus.

The implications of this won't feel fun to deal with, but can certainly lead us into a much better way of living and leading for others:

  • the primary hurdle to Jesus' kind of life growing in those whom we influence is never "out there," but "right here," which means
  • the answer is never really to be found by finding a different church, a different boss, a different pastor, a different small group, a different curriculum, or any other difference that leaves me unchanged, which means
  • if I have any desire for my community to be led well, I should immediately stop blaming anyone else for it not being so. Instead, I need to take the huge responsibility of un-busying myself enough to make room for the hard work of the things which reliably lead to transformation like prayer, solitude, silence, and serving others in secret.

In other words, the biggest hurdle to great ministry in my community is never someone or something else, but my own lack of love, joy, peace, and all of the other things that Jesus' kind of life naturally produces in me. In the short term, it's much easier just to blame someone else rather than deal with these kinds of things, but we've all tried that course for a while, and, honestly, how helpful has that turned out to be?