Friday, December 2, 2011

"QUALIFICATIONS FOR KINGDOM CANDIDATES" PART II


MATTHEW 5:5-9

INTRODUCTION

          Last Sunday I concluded the message on spiritual humility: Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth (v. 5). The Old Testament teaches us that Moses was the meekest man on earth during his days (Numbers 12:3). In the New Testament Jesus said, “I am meek and humble in heart” (Matthew 11:29). Therefore, there is no wonder that in heaven the seven angels sing the Song of Moses and the Lamb (Rev. 15:3). But both Moses and Jesus could blaze with sinless passion when the interests of God were at stake. Meekness is not weakness but power under control. Meekness challenges the world’s standards. Stand up for your right is the motto of our day. “The world is yours if you can get it.” Jesus said, on the contrary, the world is yours if you can renounce it. The meek, not the aggressive inherit the earth. The meek have an inheritance. The worldly have no future. The meek will inherit the earth. Moses was not meek by nature. Read his credentials when God found him. “Moses,” spoke the voice from the bush, “throw down your staff.” Moses, who had walked this mountain for forty years, was not comfortable with the command. “God, you know a lot about many things, but you may not know that out here, well, you just don’t go around throwing down your staff. You never know when . . .” “Throw it down, Moses.” Moses threw it down. The rod became a snake, and Moses began to run. “Moses!” The old shepherd stopped. “Pick up the snake.” Moses peered over his shoulder, first at the snake and then the bush, and then he gave the most courageous response he could muster. “What?” “Pick up the snake by the tail.” (God might be smiling at this point). “God, I don’t mean to object. I mean, you know a lot of things, but out here in the desert, well, you don’t pick up snakes too often, and you never pick up snakes by the tail.” “Moses!” “Yes Sir.”
          Just as Moses’ hand touched the squirmy scales of the snake it hardened. And Moses lifted up the rod. The same rod he would lift up in Pharaoh’s court. The same rod he would lift up to divide the water and guide two million people through the wilderness. The rod that would remind Moses that if God can make a stick become a snake, then become a stick again—then perhaps he can do something with stubborn hearts and a stiff-necked people. Perhaps he can do something with the common. Perhaps He can do something with you. Perhaps the reason God has used so many inanimate objects for His mission is that they don’t tell Him how to do His job. It is like the story of the barber who became an artist. When asked why he changed professions, he replied, “A canvas doesn’t tell me how to make it beautiful.” Neither do the meek.


IV.  SPIRITUAL ASPIRATION (V. 6).
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. The blessing promised here is for those who have a passionate desire not after happiness alone but also after righteousness—a right relationship with God. The truly blessed person is the one who hungers and thirsts after God Himself, not only the blessings He gives. David knew that aspiration when he wrote, “As the deer pants for water, so my soul pants for you, O God” (Psalm 42:1). The discovery that happiness is a by-product of holiness has been a joyful revelation to many believers. We should therefore follow after holiness. God is eager to satisfy the holy aspirations of His children. “They will be filled.”     Have you been hungry before? What happened when someone sent a plate of food your way? You devoured it like a lion and its prey. What about a real thirst? Jesus once said, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.” Admission of thirst does not come easy for many of us. False fountains pacify our cravings with sugary swallows of pleasure. But there comes a time when pleasure doesn’t satisfy. There comes a dark hour in every life when the world caves in and we are left trapped in the rubble of reality parched and dying. Some will rather die than to admit it. Others admit it and escape death. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.” Righteousness. That is it. That is what we are thirsty for. We are thirsty for a clear conscience. We crave a clean slate. We yearn for a fresh start. We pray for a hand which will enter the dark cavern of our world and do for us the one thing we can’t do for ourselves—make us right again. Only God can make you right through the blood of Jesus Christ. We usually get what we hunger and thirst for. The problem is the treasures of earth don’t satisfy. The promise is the treasures of heaven do. Blessed are those, then, who hold their earthly possession in open palms. Blessed are those who, if everything they own were taken from them, would be at most inconvenienced, because their true wealth is elsewhere. Blessed are those who are totally dependent upon Jesus for their joy.
          Blackmailers once sent Charles Haddon Spurgeon a letter to the effect that if he did not place a certain amount of money in a certain place at a certain time, they would publish some things in the newspapers that would defame him and ruin his public ministry. Spurgeon left at that station a letter in reply: “You and your like are requested to publish all you know about me across the heavens.” He knew his life was blameless in the eyes of men and, therefore, they could not touch his character. Do you hunger and thirst for righteousness? God promises that His purposes will be accomplished and that His justice will eventually reign (cf. Is. 55:1).


V. COMPASSIONATE IN SPIRIT (V. 7)
“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.”
          Mercy is always extended to the undeserving. If it were deserved, it would no longer be mercy but mere justice. It is possible to have a passion for righteousness and yet lack compassion and mercy for those who have failed to attain it. Mercy is the ability to enter into another’s situation and be sympathetic toward his plight or problem. Like meekness, this is distinctively Christian grace. We are naturally more disposed to criticism than to mercy. Pity can be sterile. Pity can be impotent. To become mercy, it must graduate from mere emotion to compassionate action. Although mercy does not condone sin, it endeavors to repair its ravages. Mercy encourages the one who has fallen to begin again. Our personal experience will be the rebound of our attitudes and reactions.
          Are you planning to get even? Perhaps someone doesn’t meet your expectations. Promises go unfulfilled. Verbal pistols are drawn, and round of words is fired. The result? A collision of the hull of your heart against the reef of someone’s actions. Precious energy escapes, coating the surface of your soul with deadly film of resentment. A black blanket of bitterness darkens your world, dims your sight, sours your outlook, and suffocates your joy. Do you have a hole in your heart? Perhaps the wound is old. A parent abused you. A bully mistreated you at school and you are hurt. A teacher ridiculed you in front of your peers. A mate betrayed you. A business partner bailed out, leaving you a choice of bills or bankruptcy. And you are angry.
          Or perhaps the wound is fresh. The person who owes you money just drove by in a new car. But your own car consumes gas like an alligator. The boss who hired you with promises of promotions has forgotten how to pronounce your name. Your circle of friends escaped on a weekend getaway, and you weren’t invited. The children you raised seem to have forgotten you exist. And you are hurt. Part of you is broken and the other part is bitter. Part of you wants to cry, and part of you wants to fight. The tears you cry are hot because they come from your heart, and there is a fire burning in your heart. It’s the fire of anger. It is blazing. It is consuming. Its flames leap up under a steaming pot of revenge. And you are left with a decision. “Do I put the fire out or heat it up? Do I get over it or get even? Do I release it or resent it? Do I let my hurts heal, or do I let hurt turn into hate?” That is a good definition of resentment: Resentment is when you let your hurt become hate. Resentment is when you allow what is eating you to eat up. Resentment is when you poke, stoke, feed, and fan the fire, stirring the flames and reliving the pain. Resentment is the deliberate decision to nurse the offense until it becomes a black, furry, growling grudge. Being near a resentful person and petting a growling dog are equally enjoyable. Don’t you just love being next to people who are nursing a grudge? Isn’t it a delight to listen to them sing songs of woe? They are so optimistic! They are so full of hope. They are bubbling with life. You know better. You know as well as I that if they are bubbling with anything it is anger. And if they are full of anything, it is a poisonous barb of condemnation for all the people who have hurt them. Grudge bearers and angry animals are a lot alike. Both are irritable. Both are explosive. Both can be rabid. Someone needs to make a sign that can be worn around the neck of the resentful: “Beware of the Grudge Bearer.”
          Is this the way you are coping with your hurts? Are you allowing your hurt to turn into hate? If so ask yourself: Is it working? Has your hatred done you any good? Has your resentment brought you any relief, any peace? Has it granted you any joy? Let’s say you get even. Let’s say you get him back. Let’s say she gets what she deserves. Let’s say your fantasy of fury runs its ferocious course and you return all your pain with interest. Imagine yourself standing over the corpse of the one you have hated. Will you now be free?
          Unfaithfulness is wrong. Revenge is bad. But the worse part of all is that without forgiveness, bitterness is all that is left. Resentment is the cocaine of the emotions. It causes our blood to pump and our energy level to rise. But, also like cocaine, it demands increasingly larger and more frequent dosages. That helps to explain the existence of the KKK, the Skinheads, the neo-Nazis, and other hate organizations. Members of these groups feed each other’s anger. And that is why the resentful often appears unreasonable. They are addicted to their bitterness. They don’t want to surrender their anger, for to do so would be to surrender their reason to live.
          Resentment is like cocaine in another way, too. Cocaine can kill the addict. And anger can kill the angry. It can kill physically. Chronic anger has been linked with elevated cholesterol, high blood pressure, and other deadly conditions. It can kill emotionally, in that it can raise anxiety levels and lead to depression. And it can be spiritually fatal, too. It can wither the soul. Hatred is the rabid dog that turns on its owner. Revenge is the raging fire that consumes the arsonist. Bitterness is the trap that snares the hunter. And mercy is the choice that can set them all free.
          The story is told of a politician who, after receiving proofs of a portrait, was very angry with the photographer. He stormed back to the photographer and arrived with these angry words: “This picture does not do me justice.” The photographer replied, “Sir, with a face like yours, you don’t need justice, you need mercy!”
VI.  PURITY OF HEART (V. 8)
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Cleanness of heart brings clearness of vision. The emphasis here is on inward purity and reality in contrast to external respectability. The revelation of God envisaged here is not granted to the mighty intellect unless that is accompanied by purity of heart. It is more than an intellectual concept that is in view; it is not a matter of optics but of moral and spiritual affinity. Sin befogs the vision. The word pure here means “unadulterated,” free from alloy, sincere and without hypocrisy. Those who exhibit this virtue will see God. The refinery does for petroleum and other products what your heart shall do for you. It takes out the bad and utilizes the good.
          To Jesus’ listeners, the heart was the totality of the inner person—the control tower, the cockpit. The heart was thought of as the seat of the character—the origin of desires, affections, perceptions, thoughts, reasoning, imagination, conscience, intentions, purpose, will, and faith. That is why Solomon admonishes, “Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life”(Prov. 4:23). To the Hebrew mind, the heart is the freeway where all emotions and prejudices and wisdom converge. It is a switch house that receives transported cars loaded with moods, ideas, emotions, and convictions and puts them on the right track. And just as a low-grade oil or alloyed gasoline would cause you to question the performance of a refinery, evil and impure thoughts cause us to question the condition of our hearts. When someone barks at you, do you bark back or bite your tongue? That depends on the state of your heart. That is why the state of the heart is so critical. What is the state of your heart? When you are offered a morsel of gossip sprinkled with slander, do you turn it down or pass it on? That depends on the state of your heart. The state of your heart dictates whether you harbor a grudge or give grace, seek self-pity or seek Christ, drink human misery or taste God’s mercy. No wonder, then, the wise man begs, “Above all else, guard your heart. David’s prayer should be ours: Create in me a pure heart, O God. And Jesus’ statement rings true: Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
VII. CONCILIATORY IN SPIRIT (V. 9)
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the sons of God.
          It is not peace-lovers or peacekeepers who qualify for this beatitude, but peacemakers. Nor is it those who maintain an existing peace, but those who enter a situation where peace has been broken and restore it. The beatitude speaks not of a pacifist but of a reconciler. Very often peace can be made only at the cost to the peacemaker.
Blessed are you when people insult you and persecute you, and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of Me. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward in heaven is great; for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”
          What was done to the Savior will be done to the disciple. But even insult, reviling, injury, and persecution can work blessing—not in the persecution itself but in the divine compensations it brings. The tense of the verb conveys the sense. “Blessed are those who have been persecuted. The blessing is in the results that flow from it. Suffering is the authentic hallmark of Christianity. “Even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed,” said Peter (1 Peter 3:14). But not all persecution is blessed. Sometimes Christians bring it on themselves through unwise and unchristian actions. There are three conditions for persecution to result in blessing from the Lord: First, it must be for righteousness sake, not as a result of fanaticism or tactlessness. Second, the evil speaking must have no basis in fact; it must not be something that is the outcome of your sin or failure. Finally, it must be for Christ’s sake—suffering that arises from our consistent loyalty to Him. Let me give you an example from the New Testament. He was a child of the desert. He had a tanned skin, wore the clothing of animal skins. What he owned in life fit in a pouch. His walls were the mountains and his ceiling the stars, but not anymore. His frontier is walled out, his horizon hidden. The stars are memories; the fresh air is all but forgotten. And the stench of the dungeon reminds the child of the desert that he is now a captive of the king. Who is this person?
          In anyone’s book, John the Baptist deserves better treatment than this. After all, isn’t he the forerunner of the Christ? Isn’t he a relative of the Messiah? At the very least, isn’t his the courageous voice of repentance? But most recently that voice, instead of opening the door of renewal, has opened the door to his prison cell.
          John’s problems began when he called the king on the carpet. On the trip to Rome, King Herod succumbed to the enticements of his brother’s wife, Herodias. Deciding Herodias was better off married to him, Herod divorced his wife and brought his sister-in-law home. The gossip columnists were fascinated, but John the Baptist was infuriated. He pounced on Herod like a desert scorpion, denouncing the marriage for what it was, adultery.
          Herod under guilt might have let John get away with it, but not Herodias, the Jezebel of the NT. This steamy seductress wasn’t about to have her social ladder removed. She doesn’t want her social climbing exposed. She persuaded Herod to have John the Baptist thrown into the dungeon. Herod was reluctant to execute that plan but Herodias was persistent. Herod procrastinated but Herodias was insistent. Then Herod gave in to her wish. But that wasn’t enough for the mistress.
          She arranged for her daughter to strip-dance before the king and his generals, who were drinking their hearts out in a stag party. Herod, who was  easily duped  as he was aroused promised to do anything for the pretty strip dancer. “Anything?” “You bet.” You name it and it would be yours. She had a brief conference with her mother, Herodias, who was waiting in the wings. Then she returned with her request. “I want John the Baptist.” “You want a date with the prophet?” I want his head, replied the dancer. On a nod from her mother, she added, “On a silver platter, if you don’t mind.” The king responded, you want what? Herod then, turned and looked at the faces around him. He wished he could retract his promise. He wished he could eat his word. He knew the request wasn’t fair, but he also knew everyone was looking at him. He had given his word. His word is his bond. He had promised her anything. He could have said no, but he valued the opinion polls more than he valued John’s life. So he concluded, after all what is more important, to save face or save the neck of an eccentric prophet? Therefore, John the Baptist’s head was separated from his shoulders and brought on a silver platter to the stripped-teased dancer.
          John dies because of Herod’s lust. The good man is murdered while the bad smirk. A man of God is killed while a man of lust is winking at his niece. Is this how God rewards His anointed? Is this how God honors His faithful ones? Is this how God crowns His chosen, with a dark dungeon and a shiny blade? The inconsistency was more than John could take. Even before Herod reached his verdict, John was asking his questions.
          “When John heard in prison what Christ was doing, he sent his disciples to ask Him, ‘Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?’” (Matt. 11:2-3). Note what motivated John’s question. It was not just the dungeon or even death. It was the problem of unmet expectations; the fact that John was in deep trouble and Jesus was conducting business as usual. Why are many people flocking to false teachers and prophets today? Why do the cults have many followers today? Why is pornography very attractive today? Why is pornography a multi- million dollar industry today? Why would a lady living in a mansion involve herself with a person who lives in a ghetto? They are all because of unmet expectations.
          In his mind John was asking, is this what Messiahs do when trouble comes? Is this what God does when His followers are in a bind? Jesus’ silence was enough to chisel a leak into the dam of John’s belief. Are you the one or have I been following the wrong Lord? Are you the one, or have I been deceived? Have you asked a similar question in your own suffering?
          Such questions are asked anytime the faithful suffer the consequences of the faithless. Anytime a person takes a step in the right direction, only to have her feet knocked out from under her, anytime a person does a good deed but suffers evil results, anytime a person takes a stand, only to end up flat on his face. The questions fall like rain: “If God is so good why do I hurt so badly?” If God is really there, why am I here?” “What did I do to deserve this?” “Did God slip up this time?” “Why are the righteous persecuted?”
         

      Disappointment demands a change in command. That is why the cults are popular today. Clouds of doubts are created when the warm moist air of our expectations meet the cold air of God’s silence. Before I conclude, I want you to listen to Jesus’ response to John’s inquiry (Matt. 11:4-6). Are you disappointed with Christ? Do you expect all your rewards here? You may learn as John did, that the problem is not much in God’s silence when you suffer unjustly for Christ as it is in your ability to hear what He is saying to you. Ladies and gentlemen, we are not yet home. I wish I had time to expound to you what heaven would be.[1]






            [1]In these series of messages, I received tremendous help from Max Lucado, and Philip Yancey.

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