Interpretations

If one cares to read The Sermon On The Mount, and few do these days, it can be daunting. Many so-called “Christians” avoid it completely, particularly the silk-shirted TV evangelists and the fundamentalist crowd. They prefer the hard-bitten pronouncements of the Old Testament that instruct them on whom to hate. They also dwell at length upon the writings of the Apostle (and the writings ascribed to him) for their multi-layered interpretations. And, of course, they wallow in the mystifying ramblings of last book of the Bible as it sets for, for them, if interpreted properly, the end of what they see as a world totally inconsistent with their primal beliefs. It also prescribes a horrible end for those who aren’t like them. What could be more gratifying?

The words the Galilean, delivered, we are told, on that Judean hillside so many years ago, do not appear to us as multi-layered. According to the reports of people who weren’t there and whose accounts survived countless translations—even interpretations—over the last 2,000 years, his words formed a narrow path to righteousness. When a man says, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the sons of God,” there isn’t much that we can do to assign multiple meanings to that.

But we try. That’s why our study of The Sermon tends to sound like the parable of the blind men describing an elephant by feel alone.

To the ethical humanist, the man may have been crazy, certainly not the “Son of God,” but he had some fine ethics.

To the followers of the pirate band that has captured America, the sayings in The Sermon weren’t rules but guidelines.

To the so-called “Prosperity Gospel” evangelists, the whole sermon is taken out of context. We should be happy to be poor in spirit for it means the preachers are getting rich.

To the average person seeking righteousness, the sermon presents laudable but unachievable standards that can cause pain instead of joy.

To our modern “pharisees” like Billy Graham’s son Franklin, the Sermon on the Mount is a terrifying indictment that delivers much the same effect to his crowd and him as a crucifix to a vampire. In other words, you could chase them with a copy.

To a man with two ex-wives, a history of fornication, and a deeply embedded penchant for hatred of his opponents, the Sermon isn’t something for fit conversation. Had he been on the hill, he could have come up with something better, much better.

To the mental wanderer and obsessive seeker, The Sermon is a magnet for contemplation, at times what we might call a “brain-worm.”

So what was the Galilean up to on that lonely hill?

I still am not sure. That’s why I spend time with you once a week thinking about it. I think it makes me a better person and I know it makes me smile.