Sharing the heart of Jesus

Just over five years ago, I was asked to preach in my (then) home church, River East MB Church in Winnipeg. The sermon would fall on Peace Sunday and I wanted to present something that would share the heart of Jesus on peace.

As I began to work on the sermon I realized that the words of Scripture I was studying – the Sermon on the Mount – were easily powerful enough to stand on their own. I was using The Message by Eugene Peterson for Bible reading at that time and was struck by how well the text flowed orally. (Some versions I prefer for personal study, others work better orally.)

Suddenly my focus shifted. Rather than try to give meaning to the Sermon on the Mount, I worked at making its words become my own.

You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you, there is more of God and His rule.

You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.*

I am fortunate that memorization comes fairly easily for me, I have worked in theatre, and I had a firm deadline to motivate me. But I had never memorized any single passage that was this long.

And, unlike many of our sermons today, Jesus did not have a cohesive theme or three easy points that held it all together. The passage is fairly disjointed, actually, as Jesus touches on many crucial topics for right living.

You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are – no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.

These statements on how to live can be quite challenging, and as I studied this passage I reflected on the many ways I needed to respond. How many times have I thought or said the word “idiot”? Is lust in my heart really just as bad as getting into bed with someone?

Then, as I realized I would be saying these words to people I know, I started to get nervous. Matthew 5–7 is written as Jesus speaking in the first person, directly to His audience. There are strong statements here. Jesus does not pull any punches in this sermon.

You’re blessed when you’ve worked up a good appetite for God. He’s food and drink in the best meal you’ll ever eat.

You’re blessed when you care. At the moment of being ‘care-full,’ you find yourselves cared for.

One part speaks to divorce and remarriage, which is particularly current and difficult in our congregations. The text states the matter plainly, and so speaking the words of Jesus as translated into contemporary English directly to an audience that could be convicted by them was difficult for me.

What got me through it was the knowledge that these were not my words and that we in the church have committed to living as Scripture requires. People could respond however they wanted.

You’re blessed when you get your inside world – your mind and heart – put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.

But how was I to respond? As the words became a part of me and I became more comfortable with them, they started to change me. Early in my childhood I had memorized Psalm 119:105: “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.”

But it was not until I had lived with such a large piece of Scripture for a month that I began to understand what that meant. There was something profound happening that I couldn’t explain. The words of Jesus were shaping me and how I viewed the world. Maybe that’s it: I was gaining a new vision for people around me.

You’re blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete and fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family.

Soon after presenting the Sermon on the Mount in my church I was asked to do the same in a number of other churches. This ramped up the nervousness even more, as I knew I would be speaking strong words into situations of which I knew nothing. Would these words offend? Or worse, would they be ignored?

As with any sermon, the reactions were varied, but I was constantly surprised by how strongly some people reacted. Suddenly people were debating the merits of Jesus’ words with me, arguing the finer points of a particular statement. Forgetting that I was merely the messenger, I had a number of people pour out their souls to me. They saw me as Jesus that day.

It may be that the recitation was effective, or that with the long hair and beard I wore then I matched some Sunday school image people have of Jesus, but I don’t believe that either of those factors had much to do with the reactions.

You’re blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God’s kingdom.

The power came not from the messenger, but from the message. There is something mysterious about the words and presence of Jesus Christ that provokes a response. And it was wonderful to be a part of it.

I was given the opportunity to share people’s lives. Matthew 5:16 (The Message) says, “Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand – shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.”

I believe this is what was happening for some. My openness to share Jesus’ words prompted them to open up to God. And risk being changed. These were powerful moments for me, and I thank God for them.

Jon Unger Brandt is director of communications for Eastern Mennonite Missions, based in Salunga, Pa.

* Italicized portions: Matthew 5:3–10, The Message.