Treasure in the Trash Heap

Matthew 5:1-12

1 Corinthians 1:18-31

Ordinary 4

February 2, 2020

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. (Matt. 5:3)

Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God. (1 Cor. 1:26-29)

Here is a little story, overheard from the check-out line of a large store. Two people were in line. The first was paying for his purchases and took notice of the next person behind him. It was someone well-known in the community, somebody often interviewed by television reporters and regularly quoted in the newspaper.

The first person recognizes this public official. It isn’t long before he starts fawning all over him. “Good to see you. I didn’t know you shopped here. I was glad to hear your recent statement on the news.” So on and so forth.

The public leader changes the subject. It was Christmas time, so he comments about the beauty of the season. The lights are impressive. The music is uplifting. The religious message is timely. So the first person says, “I couldn’t agree with you more. In fact, you should come to my church. We have a lot of important people at our church.”

That is the sum and substance of the conversation.  

I do not presume to know which church was being marketed, but I find that a most curious description. It’s a church with “a lot of important people.” The assumption is some people are important and some are not, but if they are important, they go to that church.

I can’t say if the description is true. Who is important? Who is not?

Years ago, a seminary professor named Ben Johnson visited a church and stuck around for a potluck meal. He was standing in line with a paper plate, and somebody comes up and says, “Are you Newt Gingrich?” He said, “No, I’m not.” The other person spun around and walked away. Ben said, “I guess you have to be Newt Gingrich in order to have anybody pay attention to you in this church.”

The man said, “We have a lot of important people in our church.” Is that true? Some of us would say, “Everybody is important!” and we want to believe that is true. Everybody here has value as a child of God. Everyone has inestimable worth.

But if everybody is important, that’s like saying nobody is important. Like the fourth grader complained to his mother after the sports banquet, “I got a trophy and I’m the worst player on the team.” In such a situation, the trophy doesn’t count for much.

Leave it to the apostle Paul to flip the whole thing on its head. “Look around your church,” he says to Corinthians. “Not many of you are very smart, not many are rich, not many are well connected.” (Thanks, Paul; you know how to win friends and influence people. Pretty soon, you expect him to say, “And you’re ugly too.”)

Scholars think the Corinthian church was small, maybe fifty or sixty souls. It was a mixed bag, Jews and Greeks who didn’t normally spend time together. People from different stations in life, and if the rest of the rest of the correspondence is any indication, a gathering of unfinished saints. Very unfinished. Not an expert in the bunch.

Yet his point is this: the only important one is Jesus. He is the Lord. He is the Savior. He is the One who gathers the church around him. It has nothing to do with how attractive we are. He doesn’t go after the high and mighty or the rich and famous. He goes after the people who need him.

In fact, says Paul, look at how Jesus the Lord becomes the Savior: by dying. Not merely by dying, but by dying as a convicted criminal of the empire. He is a loser who loses everything – and that is his saving power. It doesn’t make any sense to those who spend all their time, energy, and money on climbing to the top of the heap. But to those who know what it’s like to be rescued, it is the most powerful gift of their lives.

Are there any important people here today? It doesn’t matter. In the kingdom of God, ego and accomplishment don’t count for much. A long list of items on your C.V. simply says you’ve been busy, perhaps preoccupied. If you climb to the top of the heap, you may discover it’s only a heap. If you soar too closely to the sun, your wax wings melt. That’s the truth about being human. And it’s an important lesson to remember. No one is exempt.

About twenty years ago, some friends and I collaborated on a book. We are thrilled to collect some sermons and get it published. Our editor was one of the outstanding preachers in the world. When he was done polishing our work, every one of the contributors sounded great. One friend said, “I can’t wait to put this on my resume and get a better job.” Another wanted to wave it in front of his detractors and say, “See? I’m better than you thought I was.” It was a wonderful book. We sold twenty or twenty-five copies. It felt like a big accomplishment.

So imagine my delight, when returning from a church meeting in Harrisburg, I stopped by a Christian bookstore and there it was – our book! Right in the front of the store! Above it, a big sign: BARGAIN BIN. 90% OFF. ALL SALES FINAL. GET IT OUT OF HERE. A friend said, “We’ve been marked down.”

It's humbling. All of us are going to get marked down. Maybe not today, but some day. All the things we’ve done, discounted, perhaps by age or weakness or the passing of time. The apostle Paul is absolutely correct: if you are going to boast about anything, boast about God. Brag about the mercy of Jesus. Don’t swagger about like a rooster to show off how wonderful you are, because sooner or later your feathers might fall off. Your beak might crack.

Back in the days when I was even more full of myself than I am today, it was easy to shrug off this spiritual truth. I’d race by those texts that say, “God saves those who can’t save themselves.” Or maybe it would be a Sunday in church, and we would read through the Beatitudes of Jesus, all the listings of “blessed are those,” and try to ignore what it implies.

 Ever notice who Jesus pronounces as blessed?  The poor in spirit, the grieving, the meek, the hungry, the kind, the pure, the peacemakers, and those who get beaten up for doing what’s right. Not a lot of winners on that list! Not many high achievers.

As time goes by, sooner or later we discover we are on that list. It has nothing to do with our strength, nothing to do with our ability. Instead the life of the kingdom of heaven is all about God’s strength and our availability. Jesus seems to offer no blessing for those who are self-assured, mighty, or arrogant. To be quite blunt about it, heaven promises no blessing for those who have no need for God.

But for those who can be vulnerable, for those who will not put up a bulwark of defenses, for those who come open-handed and broken-hearted, Jesus says, “Blessed are you.” Blessed are all of you. Not because of who you are, not because of what you’ve accomplished, but because of the gracious Christ who offers the blessing.

Sometimes God shows us the blessing. I spent forty-five minutes on Friday with a woman who may be dying soon. When I walked into the hospital room, I didn’t know what to expect. What I received was forty-five minutes of laughter, fond memories, good conversation, and then the best part of all: “Tell everybody how grateful I am for their friendship and love over many, many years. It hasn’t always been an easy life, but it’s been a good life. Very, very good.” I said, “Can I tell them that?” She said, “Tell them that. Tell them how grateful I am.”

And Jesus said, “Blessed are you.” His blessing always exceeds our need.

Are there any important people here today? Ah, who cares. Jesus never talks that way. No, Jesus seems only to be interested in loving the people who need to be loved, in lifting off the burdens that push people down, and in healing what we make available to be healed. Quite literally, he is dying to bring us alive. And the fullness of his life is the stuff of our blessing.

This doesn’t make sense to the self-sufficient. It is frequently dismissed by all who labor to be impressive. But for those who can receive bread they did not bake, for those willing to taste the cup of mercy, for those who were lost that God has now found, this is precious Good News. It is the mystery at the heart of the Gospel.

In the kingdom of heaven, there is something so much better than being important. That “something” is being found by the Lord, the Lord whose blessing always exceeds our need.

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.