Realizing Our Identities as Children of God

This weekend we visited family in Fresno. Luke's auntie Sarah let him stand on the table and eat champagne grapes. So he ate, and ate, and ate. Today we are going to visit Plain 'Ol Great Grammy and eat yummy food, and I am getting a massage! It's going to be another full, lovely day.

Luke is waving bye-bye to everyone we see, and sometimes even waving hello. But still his quickest response is to the telephone. The minute he sees it he scrunches up his face and says enthusiastically, "Hi! Hi! Hi!"

Of course my family thinks that he's a genius. They watch him playing with his toys with more relish than a NY hotdog. It is deeply satisfying to watch my son being loved.

Derek delivered this sermon in Grace Church yesterday. I got to read it before he presented it. I was very impressed and wanted to share it with you. He put a lot of work into it and it really shows. It makes this blog entry pretty lengthy, so go get yourself a cup of coffee and come back to enjoy.


Realizing our Identities as Children of God

Our text this morning is Matthew 5:48: “Be perfect,” says Jesus, “as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Jesus’ words are striking. And they are also easily misunderstood. If we are careful readers we will note that these words follow closely on the heels of Jesus’ command, found in v. 44b, that we love our enemies. “Be perfect,” in this context, has little to do with making no mistakes, but rather, concerns imitating our heavenly Father who “makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous” (5:45bc). The perfection that Jesus commands is not abstract. As we will see, divine perfection is realized in concrete acts of love, even, or perhaps especially, acts of love directed towards enemies.

When we step back and focus our attention on the wider context, we note that v. 48 is climactic.
In six paragraphs, addressing everything from anger to oaths, Jesus contrasts the righteousness of the kingdom with that of the scribes and Pharisees (5:20); the formula with which these blocks of teaching are introduced is familiar: “you have heard that it was said . . . but I say to you.” Illustrated is a righteousness which majors on motive and intention, a righteousness which in some cases moves behind or beyond the letter of the law, in others, sets the law to one side, and in still others, perhaps, challenges the law. The righteousness of which Jesus speaks is a righteousness firmly anchored in the character of our God.

The climactic role of v. 48 is brought into sharp relief by the rhetorical questions that immediately precede it (vv. 46–47), questions that clearly allude to the need for a righteousness that “exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees.” Jesus drives home his point with characteristic clarity and force: “For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?” Once we have seen the connection between v. 20 and the concluding verses of chapter five, the climactic, summarizing, role of v. 48 comes clearly into focus. “Be perfect . . . as your heavenly Father is perfect,” reveals the “‘greater righteousness’ of v. 20 . . . in all its otherness” (France 2007, 224). Such perfection, then, is what Jesus has been getting at all along. With these questions, Jesus cuts to the heart of the matter.

While the connections between v. 48 and the wider context are of great significance, our first concern must be its role and meaning within its immediate context, vv. 43–48, the final paragraph of chapter five. As I have already suggested, “Be perfect” has a clear and concrete meaning for Matthew’s Jesus: to be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect is to love with the same undiscriminating love. Let us hear the text:

You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.” But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. (5:43–48)
The source, or sources, of v. 43 provides an acute problem for the interpreter. While “You shall love your neighbor” has been lifted directly from Leviticus 19:18, nowhere in the Pentateuch, nor anywhere else in the Old Testament for that matter, is hatred of enemies explicitly commanded. To be sure, the underlying attitude is reflected at various points, in Psalm 137:7–9, for instance, or Psalm 139:21–22, but nowhere do we find the clear formulation, “you shall hate your enemy.” The judgment of William Klassen provides a way forward and is worth quoting at some length. Klassen, a noted scholar who has done extensive work on the theme of enemy love, writes:

Much effort has been spent trying to understand why Matthew added, “and hate your enemy.” The answer seems to be quite simple. The formula “Be good to (or love) your friends and hate your enemies” was very widespread in the ancient world and occurs in many layers of documentation. Rather than look in vain throughout Jewish sources, including Qumran, for these exact words, we should simply treat them as part of general folk wisdom which Jesus’ listeners had heard and which were well known to Matthew’s audience as well. (1992, 11–12)

Despite its appeal, Klassen’s conclusion, namely that these words should be treated “as part of general folk wisdom which Jesus’ listeners had heard,” fails to completely satisfy. This is because the pattern of the previous five paragraphs leads us to expect a text drawn from the Pentateuch, most likely from either Exodus, Leviticus, or Deuteronomy. And as we have seen, “you shall love your neighbor” is directly derived from Leviticus.

It is possible to alleviate this difficulty by pushing Klassen’s insight a step further: if it is the case that the formula “Be good to . . . your friends and hate your enemies,” was ubiquitous in antiquity, then it seems quite possible, perhaps even likely, that Leviticus 19:18 was understood by many in a restrictive way. Read in context, particularly in the light of the previous verse, the neighbor of Leviticus 19:18 is clearly seen to be the fellow Israelite. Although this need not imply that love ought to be limited to the neighbor, it is easy to see, particularly in light of Klassen’s observation, how such an interpretation might arise. Jesus’ “and hate your enemy,” then, serves to make explicit a possible inference of the levitical passage. This point of view, however, is raised by Jesus only to be rejected.

Against any such attempt at circumscribing the requirement of love, stands Jesus’ “But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (v. 44). Jesus’ words push far beyond the bounds of Leviticus 19:18 to include even enemies in love’s purview. In doing so, Jesus sets himself and his teaching against the widespread human tendency to restrict love to one’s own group, to one’s own family, ethnic group, nation, etcetera. Such a tendency is evident not only in the ancient literary sources cited by William Klassen, but also, I would add, is evident in our contemporary experience.

I have deliberately avoided turning this into a sermon about pacifism. And at heart, it is not. Yet, since there is no way to neatly separate these things, how we are to live out the life of discipleship from ethical questions related to self-defense and war, I cannot help but at least raise these issues. What I am asking is that, in light of this text, we carefully, critically consider what are basic, common sense assumptions for most, if not all, people: if someone attacks me I have a right, if not a duty to defend myself with whatever means are necessary. And the same is true with respect to a member of my family, or a friend. Can such assumptions be sustained in light of this text? I am not sure that I have the answer; it is important, however, that they be asked and that we not too quickly acquiesce to “common sense.”

We must not be lulled into an ethics content with the lowest common denominator. As any careful reading of the Sermon on the Mount reveals, and as I have been arguing and will continue to argue, Jesus’ ethics do not proceed from our notions of what is realistic or practical. In the words of one recent commentator, “. . . to love those who do not love you is not offered as a piece of pragmatic wisdom, but as a reflection of the character of God himself (v. 45)” (France 2007, 224). This same thing could be said of all Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount: far from being the distillation of pragmatic, common sense wisdom, Jesus’ teaching is typically counterintuitive. Yet while it is true that the ethic assumed by Jesus does not proceed from notions of the realistic, possible, or achievable, it is certainly not the case that it is impossible, unachievable, and unrealistic. Jesus is speaking to people living in the real world about the way they ought to live and behave in that world. The New Testament in general, and Matthew in particular, everywhere assumes that we can, and indeed must, behave in certain ways. This does not, or need not, lead to a theology of salvation by works. Rather, throughout the New Testament, salvation everywhere assumes the transformation of behaviour even as it proclaims that salvation is a God-given gift. Rather than beginning with notions about what is realistic, such an ethics looks first and frequently to God’s character and example for guidance in ethical decision making. In practice, I would suggest, this means looking to Jesus’ own behaviour for our cue.

Such an ethical approach is not calculated to avoid suffering and persecution; this is no health and wealth gospel. Instead, the assumption of Matthew seems to be that the righteousness of Jesus, and that of his followers who are to be like him, is destined to encounter opposition. The beatitudes suggest that eschatological blessing is reserved for those persecuted for righteousness’ sake (5:10–11). Elsewhere, in Matthew 10:34–39 for instance, Jesus highlights the cost of discipleship and the need for decision, painting the life of discipleship in cruciform shapes and colours:

Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.

On the basis of these and other texts, and above all, in light of Jesus’ passion, it would seem that the righteousness of the kingdom is as likely to lead to suffering and a cross as it is to guarantee the good life.

But back to our passage. The parallelism of v. 44 suggests that “enemies,” in this instance, ought to be understood as those who persecute the Christian community. Thus, the second half of v. 44 interprets and clarifies the first half. Matthew’s reader is reminded of the beatitudes with their characterization of Jesus’ disciples as the “poor in spirit,” as “those who mourn,” as “the meek,” and as those “persecuted for righteousness’ sake” (vv. 3, 4, 5, and 9). “Blessed are you,” says Jesus, speaking to his disciples, “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” (5:11).

It must be said that while “enemies” has been given a very specific, concrete definition by Matthew’s Jesus, the underlying theological reasoning, manifest in v. 45, admits of no exceptions and points to a universal obligation to love. As Paul says in Romans 13:8, in a context that significantly parallels that of our passage, “Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.”

Both the goal and grounds of such love are spelled out in v. 45: we are to love our enemies in order that we may be children of our Father in heaven, “for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.” Jesus’ point is quite clear: there is to be a family resemblance between God’s actions and those of God’s people.

It is interesting that teleios, translated “perfect” in v. 48, can, on occasion, be translated “mature,” or “adult.” Thus, the author of Hebrews can suggest that “solid food is for the mature, for those whose faculties have been trained by practice to distinguish good from evil” (5:14). In 1 Corinthians 14:20, the word is used in a way that suggests the translation “adults.” Paul writes, “Brothers and sisters, do not be children in your thinking; rather, be infants in evil, but in thinking be adults.” Such a translation would be in keeping with the parent/child metaphor with which Jesus expresses his teaching in our text. Yet whether we prefer “perfect” or “mature,” or something else, Jesus’ demand remains the same: in the same way that God loves both righteous and unrighteous, we too are to love. Jesus’ words leave no room for equivocation, no “wiggle room.”

Notice that the goal of such behaviour is not that we become God’s children, something that we are not. We are God’s children. What is in question is if we will live out that identity in our day to day lives. The thought here is similar to that of 1 Corinthians 6:9–11. In this passage Paul writes to his Corinthian converts:

Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived; neither the immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor sexual perverts, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor robbers will inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God.

Paul, in effect, is admonishing the Corinthians to be who they really are. In much the same way, Jesus’ teaching, as recorded by Matthew, demands of his disciples actions consistent with their identity as children of God. Identity precedes behaviour. What God has done for us, precedes what is demanded of us. As God’s children, we are to imitate our Father’s all-inclusive love, extending it even to our enemies.

A question that naturally arises, concerns the nature of the love required of us. As I suggested earlier, the parallelism of v. 44 helps to clarify the nature of the enemies we are to love. This same parallelism serves to illuminate the nature of the love required: even as we set “those who persecute you” alongside “enemies,” so also we must set “prayer on behalf of persecutors” alongside “love.” What I am suggesting is that prayer on behalf of enemies functions as a concrete example of what Jesus means by “love your enemies.” With this in mind, and with one eye on the rhetorical questions of vv. 46–47, we see that the love commanded by Jesus is not some sort of pious sentimentalism, it is not a feeling. Instead, what is called for is action.

The prayer envisioned by Jesus must be understood as a prayer for the bestowal of God’s blessings upon the enemy. That this is so is strongly hinted at by the grounds expressed in v. 45: particularly rain, in a dry climate such as that of Palestine, must be understood as a blessing and, in terms of its critical role in food production, represents the provision of food.

As was observed earlier, the rhetorical questions of vv. 46–47 serve to forcefully drive home Jesus’ point and refer Matthew’s reader back to the demand, found in v. 20, that the righteousness of Jesus’ disciples exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees. What is called for is a righteousness that goes above and beyond. Jesus’ questions suggest that the righteousness of the kingdom is to express itself in a love that is extended not merely to those who love us, but also to those that do not: “For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?” As throughout Matthew, “brothers and sisters” are fellow Christians. Jesus thus highlights a love extended beyond the immediate circle of the Christian community, a love extended to outsiders.

And so we come full circle: the call to be perfect concerns the love of enemies, even as it calls us to a righteousness greatly in excess of the common sense expectations of the surrounding world. As we strive towards this end, we realize our identities as sons and daughters of God: “When this kind of love is operative in our lives, our righteousness will greatly exceed earlier models, and the law and the prophets will truly be fulfilled (cf. 5:17–20)” (Gardner 1991, 111).

Such love gives content to Jesus’ description of the disciple community as salt, and as light (5:13–16). Although somewhat obscured in translation–English, unlike Greek, does not inflect its pronouns so as to differentiate between second person singular “you” and second person plural “you,” it is significant that all the pronouns of Matthew 5:13–16 are plural. Thus, the appropriateness of Jesus’ reference to a city built on a hill in which, we might imagine, many lights shine together as one. Setting Jesus’ command to love our enemies against his vision of the Christian community as salt and light, as a city built on a hill, allows us to see that what is at stake is the character of God’s people and its vocation in this world.

We are not, by and large, persecuted here in Canada or in the Western world generally. And yet even now there are places in the world, by all accounts many places, where Christians are experiencing persecution. If we take this text seriously, we will pray not only for these brothers and sisters, but also for their persecutors. Not only ought we to pray for those who are persecuting our Christian brothers and sisters elsewhere in the world, but we ought also to be praying that God might enable them to love and forgive those who persecute them. For their suffering is our suffering, their pain is our pain, and their enemies, our enemies too. This is perhaps the most basic and concrete way of applying our text.

While persecution is not a reality here in this country, Christianity and Christian perspectives, as is the case with most religious perspectives, have increasingly been marginalized. The time may well come when our communities too will be called to suffer for their faith. Whatever happens, Jesus’ word ought to guide us: our attitude is to be that of our God, whose blessings are available to all, without exception and whose love is wide enough to encompass both good and bad.

The perfection called for by Matthew 5:48 calls us far beyond the “realistic” moralities of our day to the realization of our identities as sons and daughters of God, a high calling indeed. In compassionate, loving behaviour towards those unlike ourselves, even to out and out enemies, we bear witness to the character of our heavenly Father who has graciously called us, even us, to be daughters and sons: “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! (John 3:1, NIV).

If I have stressed the need for action, for “doing,” it is largely because this is the emphasis of the text itself. At the same time, I might add, it is my feeling that much contemporary thinking about salvation reflects what Dietrich Bonhoeffer referred to as “cheap grace.” The need for transformation must not be bracketed out of our theology of salvation. Nevertheless, authentic transformation must be rooted in God’s work in and among us. Let us close, then, with Paul’s words, with the benediction found in Ephesians 3:20–21:

Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.


Works Cited

France, R. T. 2007. The Gospel of Matthew. The New International Commentary on the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans.

Gardner, Richard B. 1991. Matthew. Believers Church Bible Commentary. Scottdale: Herald.

Klassen, William. 1992. “Love Your Enemies”: Some Reflections on the Current Status of Research. Pages 1–31 in The Love of Enemy and Nonretaliation in the New Testament. Edited by Willard M. Swartley. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox.