Sermon: Outward? Inward? Upward.

Matthew 6:1-18

All right, Jesus. You got us again. . . As we’ve been studying the Sermon on the Mount this semester, we’ve been convicted again and again by what Jesus has to say to his disciples. Some of Jesus’ most difficult teachings are found in three simple chapters of the Gospel of Matthew – chapters 5-7. But we should also say that these chapters are hardly simple! We’ve discovered that for ourselves. And thank God they aren’t simple. They invite us to plunge into our lives differently – to plunge fully. And living fully is hardly simple. Living fully means that we are called to live upward toward God – knowing the One who has lovingly created us – and to live outward toward others– knowing our neighbors as the ones we were truly created to love.

So in this moment – this holy, sacred moment – let’s really plunge in.
Let’s really think in and through this text:

So yes . . Jesus has got us again. . . Jesus is often critiquing the religious people of his day, and if for a second, we find ourselves saying, “That’s right! You take that, Scribes and Pharisees!” we might just want to take a step back for a second. Have you ever noticed that when you point your finger at someone in accusation, you’re pointing three back and yourself? Tonight, we may need to look at those fingers pointing at us. After all, we’re some of the religious people of today, aren’t we? We fall under this scripture.

I’ll tell you something you already know. Sometimes, religious people are the worst! Have you ever known a religious person with a big ego? Have you ever fallen into that kind of thinking yourselves? Wow. Watch out. Sometimes religious people can have heads bigger than this room.

In a couple of different sermons, I’ve heard Ted Wardlaw tell a particular story about a real life colleague he knew in Atlanta, where he was a pastor for many years. Several times a year, the Presbytery of Greater Atlanta would meet – all the churches from the area would send elders and pastors as commissioners to talk about business and issues they needed to discuss. One particular pastor would always show up. His ego was bigger than the room. He was always working the crowd, going from one person to another, greeting each person with a pristine, crystalline smile. You know, kind of like Gilderoy Lockhart from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. He was always talking about himself – how he had done this thing, how he had done that thing. Who knows? In addition to his spectacular Christian ministry, he had probably defeated some boggarts and Cornish pixies and even won Witches Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile-Award! This pastor had done it all, it seemed. Or at least, he wanted everyone to know that. And at one of these Presbytery meetings, while this pastor was shaking hands and working the room, another colleague just leaned over and whispered something into Ted’s ear: “There but for the grace of God. . .goes God.” In his ministry, this man seemed to puff up his chest and try to be worshipped rather than pointing to the God who is worthy of all our worship.

Let’s contrast that with another image. I think it’s safe to say that Karl Barth was arguably the most influential Christian theologian of the 20th century. Maybe you’ve heard his name before. Or maybe not. But again, I bet it’s safe to say that you’ve all been influenced by his theological voice whether you’re aware of it or not. In the academy, in the pulpit, in the pews, the writings of Karl Barth have been influential. This German theologian wrote an average of eight publishable pages per day throughout his decades-long career. Think about that! That’s like writing 2,920 publishable pages a year! He’s best known for writing The Church Dogmatics, a 13 volume set of writings on Christian theology. They’re truly some of the most significant writings in Christian history. This man wrote a lot! This man accomplished a lot!

And so I find it humbling that in his study – which was a small and meager study, by the way – he had a portrait of John the Baptist in a prominent place. You may remember that in the Gospel of John, John the Baptist points to Jesus, identifying him as the Lamb of God, and John says this about of his own ministry: “He must increase, but I must decrease.” Karl Barth kept this portrait in his office for a reason. In the picture, John the Baptist is pointing a long finger away from himself toward Jesus. Barth was writing all these important works – page after page after page - but he wanted those works to point to the one they were giving witness toward. He wanted them to point to Jesus Christ rather than to ultimately point to Karl Barth himself. And he kept that portrait to remind him why he was doing all of that writing. He was giving witness to the One who gave him these gifts to write such meaningful words.

And so, there’s an incredible contrast between religious people who live like Gilderoy Lockhart and religious people who live like John the Baptist, pointing to the one who has gifted us for a life of abundant fullness and a ministry of faithful vitality.

So where do we find ourselves in this text from the Sermon on the Mount? Well, we probably find ourselves in the “inbetweens,” just like we have in the other parts of the sermon: We’re caught between Gehenna and the Kingdom. We’re caught between loving our neighbors and our enemies and wishing evil for them. We’re caught between the witness of Gilderoy Lockhart and the witness of John the Baptist. We’re often divided, but thank God, God’s love for us is not divided. God’s love is always calling us to fullness, to transformation. So let’s go down that road tonight.

This text seems to contrast the inward life and the outward life, doesn’t it? Jesus talks about those in his day who were outwardly giving alms. Maybe you remember the story of a widow who gave her meager two coins as alms in the temple, while others were giving their alms in an abundant, showy way. San preached on that text this morning. Did you know that in the temple treasury, there were metal receptacles – kind of shaped like trumpets - where people could deposit their alms? Those who were rich would bring their coins and fling them into the trumpet-like receptacles, making all kinds of noise and attention for themselves. Perhaps that’s what Jesus means when he says, “Do not sound a trumpet before you.” Can you imagine the contrast between the trumpet sound of wealth that is flung for sport and self-proclamation verses the simple tinkle, tinkle of two copper coins? One draws attention to the self as the chief object of worship. “Hey! Look at me!” The other points toward God as the true Subject of worship – the one who has created us, who has initiated this life, and the One is whose life we are found, right down to every tinkle, tinkle – every second, every need, every gift of our lives.

So we’re warned about turning ourselves outward, inviting the world to bow down and worship us. Jesus says to us, “But when you give alms, don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.” We’re called to keep our pride in check, and that’s never easy! Dietrich Bohoeffer, another influential 20th century theologian, speaks about this passage in an interesting way. He says that as we follow Jesus, we’re called to look to him without looking to our own virtue. He compares discipleship to the eye itself. The eye is always looking forward, and yet the eye never sees itself. That’s a good analogy. Right now, I can see this entire room, and I’m free to look in all the nooks and crannies to see what is present here. But the one thing I can’t see is my own eye. Perhaps our lives should be just like that. We’re called to look to Jesus and follow, really living in this world, following him into all the nooks and crannies where he sends us, but if we use those nooks and crannies to seek worship for ourselves, we’ve missed the point of the Christian life. And we all do it so often!

And Jesus says that we’ll have our reward. We’ll have what we’ve sought after. We’ll have all the attention we want. But we’ll miss out on something. We’ll miss out on the greater gift that God has given us – and that gift is God! – we won’t nullify God’s love or God’s presence in our lives. We couldn’t undo if we tried, but perhaps we will become blind to seeing and perceiving God’s presence in our midst.

So don’t turn outward for your own self-aggrandizement. It seems that Jesus might be calling us inward, doesn’t it? Don’t be like the hypocrites who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners so that they might be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”

Inward. I think there’s a lesson for us here. Have you ever prayed out loud, either anxious about what others are thinking of your words – or overly aware of those words, purposefully trying to impress others with what you have to say? I’m sure we’ve found ourselves on both ends of that spectrum. I know I have. When we do that, we often miss out. We turn outward and we forget who we are praying to! When we pray for the purpose of impressing others – or for being religious for the purpose of impressing others - we might receive the reward of their praise, what we’ve been hoping for, but we will have missed the true reward of prayer. “And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” Reward us with what? God’s very presence! Perhaps, that’s why Jesus calls us inward, to go to our most private place and to experience God’s real and vibrant presence. Again, when we turn the attention solely to ourselves, when we seek worship for ourselves, we miss the true gift of worshiping the One who has invited us into God’s very own life. That is where we are called. That is where we will truly live.

Outward and Inward. It’s easy to pit these two against one another. But some questions should follow: “Wait a minute. Aren’t we supposed to live outwardly? Aren’t we supposed to care about others?” “And if we just live inwardly, won’t we be putting our heads into the sand, living for a God-experience that turns its back on the world?” “And wait. If I’m supposed to be like an eye and never see myself, won’t I just lose myself?” Those are good questions.

We can’t exclude the outward from the inward, can we? Perhaps the question is how we go outward and how we go inward. . .How do we do that? Perhaps we shouldn’t pit the outward from the inward at all. Perhaps instead, we should seek the upward. Let’s turn our attention there. Who is God? And what does that mean for our questions?

It certainly means this: God comes to us – God loves us and seeks us – and God invites us into the divine life – God’s very life! We aren’t God, so there is no reason for our self-aggrandizement. But we are invited into the divine life – into God’s own presence, God’s own personhood. And if God is One and yet a community of three persons – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and if we are invited upward that life, we are going to live in community too. And that means that we will live outward, loving our brothers and our sisters, loving our neighbors and even our enemies. It means that we will live inward, living a love of self that is held secure in the peace and love of God – rather than the insecurity that needs to seek self-worship. When we stop looking out ourselves and look upward, we don’t lose ourselves. We gain ourselves. A life turned upward includes the outward and the inward. It includes us!

As we continue in this Sermon on the Mount –
As we continue in our lives in the upcoming weeks –
Let us turn our gaze upward –
That we may be found-
That we may be whole-
That we may serve –
That we may truly live.
Amen.

-Renee Roederer, Campus Minister