Entangled States

Jesus describes a world where the poor are lifted up, the mourners are comforted, the peacemakers are honored, and those who suffer for righteousness are named as blessed.

Micah describes a people shaped by justice, kindness, and humble faithfulness.

Both texts point toward a way of life that runs directly against the grain of the principalities and powers of this world.

The message of the Cross is that this way of life — this way of justice, mercy, humility, peacemaking, solidarity with the vulnerable — will ultimately confound and overcome the systems of domination and fear that structure so much of human history.

In the ancient Christian imagination, the Cross was not only a symbol of suffering; it was a sign of victory. By this sign — by lives shaped like the Cross — the powers of the world are unmasked and undone.

Not through force.
Not through triumphalism.
But through costly love.

[…]These texts invite a serious question: Where shall we stand?

The Beatitudes do not let us remain neutral observers. They ask us to locate ourselves in God’s unfolding future.

Will we stand with those who hunger and thirst for righteousness — even when that hunger makes us uncomfortable?
Will we stand with peacemakers — even when peace requires truth-telling and repair?
Will we stand with the merciful — even when mercy is misunderstood as weakness?

Micah reminds us that faithful living is not an abstract idea. It shows up in concrete choices: how we treat the foreigner who sojourns among us, how we care for widows and orphans, how we protect the poor and the outcast, how we respond to those whom society pushes to the margins.

If we are true to the Gospel and to the Prophets, then we trust that this way of life is not in vain.

Not because we will always see immediate results.
Not because justice always comes quickly.
But because we belong to a story that is larger than any one moment.

We are, as Scripture dares to say, children of God. Members of Jesus’ own family. Participants in God’s ongoing work of healing and restoration.

The power of the Cross continues to move in the world — often quietly, often slowly, often through ordinary people making faithful choices in unremarkable places.

(This sermon is a reworked version of a sermon I preached in 2016).

You can view the entire sermon here.

There is no sense of comfortable stasis in the Kingdom of God.

No sense of “I’ve arrived.”
No sense that we are finally done changing.
If you are waiting to be ready before God comes into your life, you will wait forever.
You will not be ready.

And that is not a flaw — it is the point.

The call of Jesus always comes in the middle of things.

In the middle of work.
In the middle of uncertainty.
In the middle of ordinary life.

And the only question is whether we are willing to leave our nets.

Which raises the question we would often rather avoid:
What are the nets? What role are they playing in this story, and in our lives?

For Peter and Andrew, James and John, the nets were not bad things. They were necessary things. Respectable things.

Nets meant livelihood.
Nets meant identity.
Nets meant security.
They were not sinful.
They were familiar.

And sometimes that is harder to let go of.

We imagine that following Jesus means leaving behind only the obviously wrong things. But more often, it means loosening our grip on good things that have quietly become ultimate things.

The nets are whatever we cling to because they make us feel safe.
The nets are whatever define us so completely that we cannot imagine who we would be without them.
The nets are whatever keep us from moving when God says, “Now.”

And the Gospel tells us that when Jesus calls, the response is not careful calculation, but trust.

“I will make you.”

You will be equipped.
You will be taught.
You will grow into this.
Faith is not knowing how to do the thing.
Faith is being willing to step forward when someone says, “I’ll walk with you.”

In practice, that is what Christian life actually looks like.
We travel in response to call, going to places we’d rather not be, to circumstances we’re rather not experience.

Let those who have ears, hear what the Spirit is saying.

You can view the full sermon at this link.