September 14, 2025 - Radical Matthew 5:1-16
Radical
Matthew 5:1-16
Rev. Dr. Rhonda Abbott Blevins
September 14, 2025
When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. And he began to speak and taught them, saying:
”Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
”Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
”Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
”Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
”Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
”Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
”Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
”Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
”Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
”You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything but is thrown out and trampled under foot.
”You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. People do not light a lamp and put it under the bushel basket; rather, they put it on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.
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“Christianity is in crisis.”
So says the former Southern Baptist leader and current editor-in-chief of Christianity Today, Russell Moore, in his book entitled Losing Our Religion: An Altar Call For Evangelical America.
Now, I don’t quote Dr. Moore very often—in fact I don’t think I’ve ever quoted him. Before I left the Southern Baptist Church over 20 years ago after graduating from a Southern Baptist seminary and serving for seven years in the Southern Baptist denomination, I was beginning to understand the nature of God and our role as Christians quite differently than most of my Southern Baptist colleagues. So I don’t quote Dr. Moore very often. But Dr. Moore and I agree on at least one thing:
“Christianity is in crisis.”
When pressed by Scott Detrow from NPR’s All Things Considered in 2023 as to what brought him to the conclusion that Christianity is in crisis, here’s what Russell Moore said:
It was the result of having multiple pastors tell me, essentially, the same story about quoting the Sermon on the Mount, parenthetically, in their preaching — “turn the other cheek” — [and] to have someone come up after to say, “Where did you get those liberal talking points?” And what was alarming to me is that in most of these scenarios, when the pastor would say, “I’m literally quoting Jesus Christ,” the response would not be, “I apologize.” The response would be, “Yes, but that doesn’t work anymore. That’s weak.” And when we get to the point where the teachings of Jesus himself are seen as subversive to us, then we’re in a crisis.
Some of you know that I’m a part of Pinnacle Leadership Associates, a group of outstanding clergy who offer church consulting and clergy coaching among other things. Our founder and team leader, Mark Tidsworth, has heard multiple clergy say the same thing, that people in the pews are rejecting the words of Jesus, from the Sermon on the Mount, yes, and also rejecting Jesus’ parables and other teachings.
When the Sunday morning faithful begin to reject the very teachings of Jesus, what else is there to surmise other than . . .
Christianity is in crisis.
Moore suggests, and I agree with him, that the crisis is so large, so overwhelming, that it may be impossible to treat on a large scale. The solution must begin small; it must begin local. Like here, at Chapel by the Sea.
Christianity is in crisis.
Perhaps, because I’m a pastor, I’ve internalized this crisis more than the average person. Perhaps I worry about the crisis more than the average person as well.
This crisis and the resultant anxiety that comes with it showed up in my dream life this week. Would you like to hear the crazy dream I had? Ok, here goes!
We were worshipping together in our beautifully restored and remodeled sanctuary. Someone was playing the piano while singing a solo, and the piano caught on fire! I jumped into action (of course being the hero in my own dreams!). I ran and got a fire extinguisher and put out the fire. Yay! But while I was doing that, you want to know what you were doing? You all were absolutely destroying the pews! You were ripping the pew cushions off, breaking the ends off the pews, pulling them out of the floor. You demolished the entire nave. Naughty!
Now, I’m no Jungian psychologist, but in my line of work, sometimes we call parishioners “the people in the pews.” And I don’t think I’m literally concerned about you demolishing the pews. I will admit, I am gravely concerned about our ability, as a congregation, to hold the tension as a “Purple Church”—a church where some of you vote red, and some of you vote blue. Red and blue make . . . purple. Maybe I’m not so concerned about the literal destruction of our pews, but of the body of Christ that inhabits them?
Christianity is in crisis. I fear we are too?
As our country and our culture become more divided by the day, it will be increasingly difficult to keep ourselves, keep our faith fellowship, above the fray. But my beloveds, we must not allow ourselves to get sucked into the culture wars or allow ourselves to be swayed by what Amanda Ripley calls the “conflict entrepreneurs”—those culture warriors who inflame turmoil for their own benefit, even their own profit.
Christianity is in crisis. So how do we inoculate ourselves as individuals, and as a faith community, from the insidious rhetoric, hatred, and even violence that marks this generation?
We get back to the basics—back to the words of the one we say we follow: Jesus, the Christ.
With that, there is no section of scripture that better exemplifies the teachings of Jesus—what Jesus believed in and stood for—better than the Sermon on the Mount from the Gospel of Matthew.
So let’s begin our three-week study of the Sermon on the Mount by considering the question, “Why are some of today’s pastors catching heat for quoting Jesus’ words from the Sermon on the Mount?”
The answer to that question is simple: Jesus’ teachings from the Sermon on the Mount are radical.
In the next couple of weeks, we’ll hear Jesus say things like: “if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also” and “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” In today’s pericope we hear Jesus say, “blessed are the peacemakers.” These teachings were radical then, and they are just as radical today in the age of conflict entrepreneurs and social media influencers who profit from fomenting vitriol and discord.
Think back to the pastors Russell Moore mentioned who said their parishioners indicated the words of Jesus don’t “work anymore.” That the words of Jesus are “weak.”
Show me someone who calls Jesus’ words “weak” and I’ll show you someone who has been shaped far more by politics than by faith. And this . . . this epidemic of people being shaped more by politics than by faith . . . this is the deeper problem . . . the root cause of the manifold symptoms of vitriol and division and violence in our country.
Our charge as Christ followers is to allow ourselves to be shaped by the Word and not by the world. So how do we make sure we’re on the side of Christ in a world that screams for and profits by our attention?
A good place to start is with the beatitudes—Jesus’ radical, countercultural manifesto for a new way of living and being. These sayings, they’re upside down. Let’s consider these sayings one by one, and as we do so, I invite you to allow the Spirit of God to prick your heart if there’s anything in you that does not align with Christ’s teachings:
The world says: “Blessed are the self-made, the confident, those who pull themselves up by their bootstraps. Blessed are those who need no one and depend on no one.”
Jesus says: Blessed are . . . the poor in spirit??The world says: “Blessed are the happy, the positive thinkers, those who move on quickly. Don’t dwell on problems—just think good thoughts and manifest success.” Jesus says: Blessed are . . . those who mourn??
The world says: “Blessed are the aggressive, the alpha personalities, those who take what they want. Nice guys finish last. The weak get trampled.”
Jesus says: Blessed are . . .the meek??The world says: “Blessed are those who hunger for success, wealth, and personal achievement. Look out for number one. Justice is for idealists.”
Jesus says: Blessed are . . . those who hunger and thirst for righteousness??The world says: “Blessed are the tough, those who demand accountability. Show no weakness. Make them pay. Eye for an eye.”
Jesus says: Blessed are . . . the merciful??The world says: “Blessed are the shrewd, the politically savvy, those who know how to work the system. Everyone has an angle—find yours.”
Jesus says: Blessed are . . . the pure in heart??The world says: “Blessed are the warriors, the strong who maintain peace through strength. Conflict is inevitable—make sure you win.”
Jesus says: Blessed are . . . the peacemakers??The world says: “Blessed are the popular, those who fit in and don’t rock the boat. Why suffer when you can compromise? Smart people avoid unnecessary trouble.” Jesus says: Blessed are . . . those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness??
The world says: “Blessed are the liked, the influencers with good reputations. Your brand is everything. What will people think?”
Jesus says: Blessed are . . . you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account??
The Beatitudes. See how upside down these teachings are? Some, apparently, think these words are weak. Not me. I posit that it takes more strength to stand in opposition to the world’s wisdom that to stand with it. You want to see someone weak? Look at blind followers of the world’s political ideologies. Now that’s weak.
Christianity is in crisis when Christ’s supposed followers think Christ’s words are weak. Our job, as Christ followers, is not to be culture warriors. We have far too many of those already and look where it’s gotten us. Our job is not to be culture warriors but countercultural servants. Living out this upside-down way of Jesus. Resisting the lure of the powerful and the politicos to follow like sheep into the vitriol. Resisting that lure is the way of Jesus.
Jesus continues his radical manifesto with two simple but profound metaphors: “You are the salt of the earth” and “You are the light of the world.” Now, these aren’t suggestions or aspirations—Jesus is making declarative statements about who his followers are in this world.
Salt, in Jesus’ day, was precious. It preserved food, prevented decay, enhanced flavor. But Jesus warns: “If salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.”
Here’s the thing about salt—it only works when it’s different from what it’s preserving. Salt that becomes indistinguishable from the meat it’s meant to preserve is useless salt. And friends, when Christians become indistinguishable from the culture warriors around them—when we sound just like the political pundits, when we hate with the same vitriol, when we dehumanize our opponents with the same cruelty—we’ve lost our saltiness.
We’ve become what Russell Moore calls “a cultural religion” rather than followers of Christ. We’ve allowed ourselves to be shaped more by the world than by the Word.
But Jesus doesn’t stop with salt. He calls us light as well: “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid.” Light doesn’t argue with darkness—it simply shines. Light doesn’t defeat darkness through conflict—it defeats darkness by simply being what it is.
And here’s what’s radical about this calling in our current moment: Jesus says we’re not supposed to hide our light under a bushel basket. We’re not called to be silent or passive or to retreat from public engagement. But—and this is crucial—the light we’re supposed to shine is the light of Christ, not the light of our political party or our preferred cable news network or our favorite social media influencer.
When we shine the light of Christ, what does that look like? It looks like blessing those who curse us. It looks like praying for those who persecute us. It looks like turning the other cheek when we’re struck. It looks like loving our enemies—yes, even our political enemies.
You want to know what’s weak? Responding to hatred with more hatred. You want to know what’s weak? Following the crowd into the latest outrage cycle. You want to know what’s weak? Allowing conflict entrepreneurs to manipulate our emotions for their profit.
You know what takes real strength? Responding to hatred with love. Standing up to the crowd when they’re wrong. Refusing to be manipulated by those who profit from our division.
As a purple church, we have a unique opportunity—and responsibility. We can model what it looks like to be salt and light in a polarized world. We can show that it’s possible to disagree politically while still loving each other. We can demonstrate that our ultimate allegiance isn’t to red or blue, but to the One who bled for us all. Friends, don’t tear the pews apart while I’m busy putting out a piano fire!
But this will require something radical from each of us. It will require us to resist the pull of the culture wars. It will require us to turn off the conflict entrepreneurs who want to sell us their brand of outrage. It will require us to choose the narrow way of Christ over the broad way of the world.
Jesus warned us: “Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it.”
The wide gate today is the gate of political tribalism, where we’re told our enemies are irredeemable and compromise is betrayal. The narrow gate is the way of Christ, where we’re called to love even those who vote differently than we do.
Christianity is in crisis.
Christianity is in crisis because too many of us have chosen the wide gate. We’ve found it easier to hate our enemies than to love them. We’ve found it more satisfying to curse those who curse us than to bless them. We’ve found it more natural to be shaped by the world than to be transformed by the Word.
But it doesn’t have to be this way. We can be the salt that preserves. We can be the light that shines. We can be the city on a hill that shows there’s a different way to live.
The question is: will we?
So there it is—the radical call of Christ in a world gone mad with division. Jesus’ teachings from the Sermon on the Mount aren’t weak—they’re revolutionary. They’re not liberal talking points or conservative propaganda—they’re the countercultural manifesto of God’s kingdom breaking into our broken world. When we choose to be salt and light rather than culture warriors, when we choose the narrow gate of Christ over the wide gate of political tribalism, when we choose to be shaped by the Word rather than by the world—that’s when we discover just how radical following Jesus really is.
So here’s my challenge to you this week: Pick one teaching from the Beatitudes that makes you uncomfortable, one that goes against every instinct the world has taught you, and dare to live it out. Because Christianity may be in crisis, but the radical love of Christ is still the answer—not just for the church, but for our fractured world.
The question isn’t whether Jesus’ way works anymore. The question is whether we’ll be radical enough to try it.