A nearly audible sigh rippled through the gathered crowd. The sermon was drawing to a close. Finally. It hadn’t been exactly what they were expecting. In enormous numbers they had flocked to fill every available space on the hillside. With standing room only, they craned their necks hoping to witness the miracles they’d heard so much about. With attentive ears and silent lips, they tuned their hearts to be touched by His tender words of love, mercy, grace and forgiveness. Every person there needed something. A miracle. A healing. Physically. Spiritually. Emotionally. They pressed in around Him. Constantly scooching closer. Pushing into one another. Jostling each other in their urgency to touch Him and be healed. Many had done just that. Touched Him. Without invitation, they’d come close enough to graze their hand against His garment. Healing had been instantaneous. Power flowed from Him. Power to heal. Power to help. Power to save lives, eternally, if they would listen and obey His words. (Luke 6:17-19)
Settling in, Jesus faced the crowd and began to preach. The first words out of His mouth were exactly what they hoped they would be. Blessings. Coming hope and help for the poor, the hungry, the mourning, the hated. Beautiful words rolled like soothing ointment over their beleaguered souls. They could relate with these issues. Many of them had suffered or were suffering from physical poverty and hunger. No one in that congregation had never been touched by sadness, suffering or mourning. Few wanted to admit how well they knew what it was to be a social pariah. Hated. Rejected. Insulted. To hear Jesus say it wouldn’t always be that way brought them hope. Lifted their heads. Gave them a feeling of triumph. Except He kept talking. (Luke 6:17-23)
It was a shame. They’d have happily gathered their lawn chairs and picnic blankets and headed for home on the glorious note of a reward in Heaven. It was a fabulous stopping place as far as they could see. But Jesus’ sermon didn’t end there. He didn’t close with the lovely promise of a great reward in Heaven for the abused, the marginalized, the disenfranchised. No. He kept going. He had more things to say. Hard things. Hard to say. Harder to hear. Needful things. Necessary for their lives on earth. Necessary for their eternity in heaven. Things that shocked their ears. Pricked their consciences. Convicted their hearts. Weighed heavily on their minds. Predicated on His entire sermon was the question at its end, “Why are you running about calling me “Lord,” claiming to know me, to be my disciple, but not obeying the things I’ve commanded you to do?” Why are your words and your ways at war with one another? (Luke 6:46)
Out of nowhere, the sermon had taken a turn. It became much less pleasant and much more uncomfortable. Jesus launched into those things that were hard to preach but necessary to hear. Love your enemies. What?! Do good to the people who despise you. Why?! Bless and pray for those who treat you with disgust, who ostracize you, who make you feel like a lower life form. What for?! Give freely. Treat others the way you wish everyone treated you. Give respect. Give love. Give goodness. Not so you can receive something in return. No. Give without expectations. Give with no strings attached. Give with open hands. Give freely. And be merciful. When they don’t deserve it. When they didn’t earn it. When no one offers it in return. Do it anyway. Why? Because when you do, you tell the world who you really are. Silently. Without words. Through actions alone, you tell everyone that you are a child of the Most High God. (Luke 6:27-36)
Before those words could fully be digested by the hearers, Jesus continued. Don’t judge. Anyone. Don’t condemn others. Don’t don your self-righteous robes and clamber up onto your high horse of judgment. You don’t belong there. That’s not your place. You are just like everyone else. A sinner. It’s where you started, too. Regardless who found grace first, you are in no position to judge. Ever. But you are in a position to forgive. Always. Over and over and over again. Forgive every wrong, real or imagined, committed against you. Without an apology. Without their groveling. Without getting your ego stroked. Just forgive. Hugely. Without restraint. Why? So you can be forgiven. Hugely. Without restraint. As you forgive others, the forgiveness of God will pour into your soul with good measure. Enormous measure. Pressed down. Packed in. Shaken together. Enough to overflow. Forgiveness and grace greater than your sins and the grace to forgive others their sins. Immediately. Generously. Continuously.
Live like Jesus. Always. Every day. From a changed heart, live out actions and reactions, thoughts and words that emulate Christ. Act like you know Jesus. Act like He is Lord of your life. Be known by your actions. Your love and kindness, forgiveness and grace. Build a reputation for yourself based on your treatment of those who do good to you, and more importantly, how you treat those who do you wrong. Guard your heart. Keep it right. What you harbor there determines your actions. It determines the fruit of your hands. It tells people who you know and whose you are. If you don’t control what takes up space in your heart, you won’t be able to control what comes out of your mouth. Ugly demands an exit. It will come out. You won’t be able to keep it in. What is in your heart will bubble up your throat and flow from your mouth. It will be exhibited in your actions. There will be no hiding. You will be exposed for who and what you truly are. Your words and ways will tell the truth about your relationship with Jesus. Whether it’s real. Whether it’s not. What you say, what you claim, what you call Jesus won’t matter if your ways fail to corroborate your words. (Luke 6:37-46; 11:28)
You see, the kingdom of God set up in each of our hearts is not proven by the perfectly edited words we recite in public. It’s existence is not based on our steadfast verbal claims. The presence of the kingdom of God, living and active in us, is exhibited by the power at work in our lives to act in accordance with the teachings and commandments of Christ. No matter our circumstances. Regardless the things going on around us. No matter the taunts and teasing and terrors of the world. Proof that we know Jesus and that He lives in us is in our actions. Our love. Our goodness. Our forgiveness. You can say whatever you want. You can claim any relationship with Jesus you desire. But. If your words and ways war against one another, it all means nothing. If you really know Him, if you truly love Him, you will keep His commandments. Always. End of story. There will be no war. Your words will be unnecessary; your ways will speak on your behalf. Everyone will know. He will be your Lord and you will be His child. When the war ends and your words correspond with your ways. (I Corinthians 4:20; John 14:15; I John 5:3; Matthew 7:16-23; James 2:17)