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July 21 - August 5, 2024
Naturally, the path you choose now has a bearing on eternity, but Jesus also desires to form us today.
The broad path is life outside Jesus’s rule and way; the narrow path is life submitted to him and his subversive wisdom.
The devil, in his own way, tries to divert Jesus from the narrow path. Jesus must choose: Is he a messiah who thinks about himself over others? Does he live for power, or does he lay it down for others? Does he live for the applause of people, or rest in the affirmation of his Father?
So, what is happiness all about, according to Jesus’s beatitudes? Spoiler alert: It’s not what most people think. Jesus doesn’t primarily describe emotions or feelings; instead, he describes a subversive and surprising way of life—an upside-down existence that upsets our understanding of who’s on top and who’s on bottom.
In a word, we want to be like those we deem as blessed. But Jesus takes this culturally loaded word and flips the script. Why? Because humanity has been seduced into a vision of the good life that’s based on good physical health, ample money, positivity, acclaim, and minimal challenges.
To follow Jesus is to have a radically different scorecard of success and significance.
To mourn means to carry our grief to God. To lament. To refuse to sugarcoat life. It’s authenticity, looking honestly at the brokenness of the world and the brokenness of our lives.
But the joy available through the narrow path of the kingdom doesn’t come by eliminating grief. To cut out grief from our lives is to crush our joy as well. We can’t numb our emotions without compromising everything else.
As we open ourselves to the prayers and songs of mourning, we are given windows into the grief-stricken world we inhabit and are invited to join God in working for its healing.
We are trained to think that if we’re going to make it, we have to be aggressive. Yet in the kingdom of God, the way of gentleness is what will heal the world.
Paradoxically, to make peace means entering a war. The peace of God uproots the exploitative schemes of evil, and that evil won’t back down without a fight.
Instead of the self-sufficient, it’s those dependent on his power who are blessed. Those living with great tenderness and grace are the most fortunate. Those who reject the power plays of the world are especially close to God.
we learn from Jesus that the life God blesses is cruciform in nature. Jesus is clear that the blessed ones are not free from trouble. Rather, they endure trouble as they bear witness to Jesus’s subversive path.
To be known and seen is one of our deepest longings. But left to our own devices (pun intended), we get stuck in a never-ending cycle of performative spirituality, where we seek to get from others what can be given only by God.
When our deeds are practiced in front of others, we forfeit the rewards we will receive from the Father. Instead of receiving commendation from God, we settle for admiration from people.
Tucked into the middle of the Sermon on the Mount is the secret to walking Jesus’s narrow path: prayer. Prayer is both the entry point and the essential power that help us follow Jesus.
Anger closes us in; lament opens us up. Rather than ignoring an offense, lament creates space in our hearts for God’s Spirit to redirect our hearts and get to the root of the anger.
Most lies, however, never make the big stage. These are the “little” lies spoken at work, at home, and in our hearts. We lie about our true feelings on a matter. We lie to cover up our weaknesses. We lie to gain some kind of advantage in our careers.
Jesus does not neatly resolve all the questions we hold pertaining to sexual ethics, but he is clear that God cares deeply about the desires and how we steward them.
Lust is about consumption. Love is about communion. Lust is about taking. Love is about giving. Lust uses. Love honors. Lust diminishes the other. Love cherishes the other.
As these technologies advance, their adoption will grow and many people will come to identify themselves as “digisexuals”—people whose primary sexual identity comes through the use of technology.
To feel worry and anxiety are normal parts of being human; however, to feed worry and anxiety leads to bondage.
Ruminating on potential trouble chokes the life out of many people. Jesus knows this. He knows your world—with all your responsibilities, worries, fears, and hopes—and wants to let some oxygen in the room.
Our Father has an endless supply of love and compassion for us.
As someone who grew up without much financially, I can easily slip into a state of worry, believing that God’s resources will run out on me. But hear Jesus’s encouragement: God has an endless supply of goodness aimed your way.
Is there a false image of God you’ve embraced—one that denies he can provide? Be reminded, he delights in providing!
The sad truth is, worry steals time. Jesus says, “Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” (Matthew 6:27). Translation: Stop worrying and start enjoying. The more you worry, the less time you have. Helpfully, Jesus doesn’t merely say to stop worrying; he tells us to seek his kingdom.
When I practice the Examen, I use these four questions: Did I see anyone through the eyes of Christ’s love today? Did I bring my anxious thoughts before God in prayer? Was I present to God’s presence in silence? Is there any sin I must confess and request God’s forgiveness for?
When we choose self-examination over judging, we confess with our lives that we don’t see as God does. Therefore, in humility, we surrender our verdicts to the One who judges righteously.
As Jesus nears the end of the Sermon on the Mount, he reiterates something he’s emphasized throughout: The depths of our hearts are seen by God. This all-seeing God calls us to a life of interior examination.
Ask this fundamental question: Am I on a journey to really know Jesus, or have I been using him for my own benefit?
One of the greatest points of spiritual self-deception is believing that having knowledge is the goal of the Christian life.
Through the years, I have learned to pray, “Lord, grant me the desire to know and do your will. And when that desire is not there, grant me the discipline to seek you.”
As a starting place, here’s a simple list of questions you can ask in God’s presence (or the presence of a trusted friend): Who makes you most anxious? Why? What situations make you most anxious? Why? In what areas have you been worrying about your life? What’s the story your anxiety is feeding you? What kind of space do you need to process your anxiety?
