That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side." Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?" He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!” Mark 4:35-41 

The storm must have been bad to send Jesus' disciples sloshing towards the stern of their boat. 

Jesus, rolling up and down over the face of the sea, remained fast asleep - perhaps the slumber of one comfortable hovering over the surface of the deep.

Weathered fishermen wonder at Jesus whether or not he cares if they drown.  

Jesus' withers the storm and wonders at his disciples' great fear and lack of faith.

Emotions swell to questions roll to actions break to questions swell to emotions break to questions... leading one to wonder whether it was stormier inside or outside of the boat that night. 

Those disciples, rocked as they were by circumstances beyond their control, are on the cusp of being overwhelmed by the chaos of the sea - and they were afraid.

Their fear of being no more, turns to resentment, which they turn towards the one who invited them on the journey in the first place.

So... does Jesus care or doesn't he?

Jesus is with them in the chaos. They are after all literally in the same boat. Jesus is with them, but does his presence matter?

In a moment, Jesus transforms the situation. He speaks, and chaos listens. Having addressed the wind and the waves, he turns to his disciples.

"Do you still have no faith?"

It is precisely because of such an ongoing presence of faith's absence that Jesus' disciples were afraid. Fear and faith exist in a night-and-day kind of relationship. Faith displaces fear in the same way light drives away the dark. 

Jesus and his disciples are all in the same boat, but they have yet to share the same faith.

Out there on the water, Jesus invites that baptized bunch to have the same faith about him, that he has about his Father in heaven...

That Jesus DOES care.

That Jesus IS able to address even the most chaotic situations - no matter how wildly out of control... including those that threaten their very lives.

There were other boats with him out there on the water that night. Other boats in which Jesus was clearly NOT present. Those boaters experienced the same chaos AND the same delivery from the power of chaos because of Jesus. This narrative is not only for the disciples in Jesus' boat, but for all disciples always, and if you like, for whomever happens to find themselves confronted with situations of the overwhelming variety.

But why the terror in the calm? Why the "Who is this?" about their "Teacher"? Have you ever thought you knew someone, and then they go and do something that is so uncharacteristic that you are left reeling and uncertain? Perhaps the terror accompanied a profound disorientation - the fruit of a new learning so revelatory that it shook the foundations of everything they thought they knew. Jesus' command over creation hints at his embodiment of both the immanent and the transcendant. But that's impossible right? Exposure to such a mystifying reality will have been disorienting to be sure.

In a world where storms continue to blow, the disciples' question is haunting. But Jesus' question remains too.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging... Be still, and know that I am God... The LORD Almighty is with us. Psalm 46 (excerpts from) 

You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.' But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, 'Raca, ' is answerable to the Sanhedrin. And anyone who says, 'You fool!' will be in danger of the fire of hell. "Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to that person; then come and offer your gift. Matthew 5:21-4

Have you ever played telephone? Hearing-speaking-hearing-speaking-hearing... the difference between what goes in one end and what comes out the other is what makes it fun.

"You have heard that it was said to the people long ago..." Jesus' words create that telophonic sense of distance between his audience and what was said "to the people long ago."

Is Jesus taking on one of the ten commandments or is he taking on the way that divine word had been interpreted down the line over time?

In contrast to that old distant testament, Jesus' words have an immediacy to them. God's words, carved into stone so long ago are here come near in flesh and blood.

Of course what we find is not a new word at all, but rather an old Word - ancient, way beyond and before "in the beginning" ever was.

This is not an abolition mission, but a faithful fulfillment. In Christ, the old word is spoken anew.

Both old and ancient-new follow a what-not-to-do-and-the-consequences-of-doing-it pattern.

While Jesus' words are patterned after the old word, they appear to depart from the old life-line. What was "You shall not murder" is now "anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment."

Taking Jesus at his word - that he has not come to abolish but to fulfill the Law - how is what appears to be a new standard actually the fulfillment and not an abolition of the old way?

Perhaps the old is in this case better understood in light of the Son.

Jesus' "therefore" is particularly instructive.

He paints a word picture - there you are at the altar with your gift...

Jesus conjures up an image of worship - a point of human encounter with the divine. If, as the Westminister Shorter Catechism maintains, the chief end of humankind is to glorify God, and to enjoy God forever, the act of worship Jesus describes is arguably among the most important human practices. What on earth could be more important than this?

Evidently, if someone else has a problem with you or I as we are there at the altar, reconciling with that person is more important than worshiping God.

God would rather wait.

Jesus is trying to get those who have ears to hear, to understand that what is at stake here is so important that it warrants the interruption of worship.

Horizontal reconciliation is THAT important.

If you know of someone who has something against you, go and be reconciled to them so as not to allow them to be in danger of judgment or the Sanhedrin or the fires of hell.

Make every effort to reconcile with the one who is angry with you because such a disposition is THAT dangerous for them.

The old prohibition rooted in honoring the life given by the Source of life had become a standard by which people measured their own righteousness. "You shall not murder" has more to do with the precious lives of others than in setting limits for you or I.

God - whom Jesus reflects with incarnational clarity - is interested in human beings being interested in the wellbeing of other human beings.

Now get up, get out and don't come back until you've gone and done likewise.

Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. Truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. Anyone who sets aside one of the least of these commands and teaches others accordingly will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:17-20

Q: How to fulfill the Law and the Prophets?

A: Practice the commands and teach others to do the same - that is what righteousness looks like. 

The Pharisees and the teachers of the law were reform-oriented movements among God’s people committed to following God’s way. By the time Jesus walks the dusty ground of first century Palestine, they had become the religious leaders of the community whose lives set the standard for what it looks like to follow God’s way.

So the Pharisees are busy practicing, and the teachers of the law are busy teaching, but nobody is asking whether the practices or the teachings actually reflect God’s way.

And then… Jesus.

His practices and teachings are contrary enough to those of the religious leaders that people wonder whether or not he is teaching a new way – one that contradicts, abolishes or sets aside the old. 

Both the religious leaders and Jesus beckoned the people to “follow me.”

Both question the practices and teachings of the other.

The religious leaders contend that Jesus is setting aside the Law and the Prophets. Jesus maintains that what the religious leaders believe to be righteousness is actually presenting an image of God to the world that is not God.

So who to believe?

My confidence is in Jesus – that he came practicing and teaching God’s way. He is obedient to God, even to the point of death. And as Paul writes in Philippians 2:9-11 "Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."

Jesus’ thesis that “whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven” is demonstrated through his resurrection. Because Jesus is “called great in the kingdom of heaven” it stands to reason that he was practicing and teaching God’s way on earth.

If you want to know what it looks like to fulfill the Law and the Prophets, look to Jesus’ example and teaching. The true way, the way that leads to life in the kingdom of heaven is embodied and reflected by Jesus – the one who leads those who follow him, into the kingdom of heaven.

But here is the thing: Jesus isn’t calling for greater observance so much as he is calling for a better translation of the law into living.

Not more rules.

More obedience.

In Jesus' practicing and teaching we find the way. A way to follow – yes, but the assurance of righteousness is not a product of the following so much as a gift accomplished and granted by the One who fulfilled the Law and the Prophets.

Jesus said that as long as heaven and earth remain, these commands are in play "until everything is accomplished."

Here is my question:

…what if everything IS accomplished BEFORE heaven and earth disappear?

The "it is finished" of the cross, corroborated by God's resurrecting "YES!" to Jesus, proclaims that the "i’s" has been nailed and the "t's" crossed.

It is finished. Righteousness is not something you or I can somehow achieve. Our righteousness comes as a result of what Jesus has accomplished.

Righteousness cannot ultimately come from observing the law, but through the One who actually fulfills the Law - in his person, on behalf of each one of us.

So is Jesus an example for us to follow, or did he do for us what we could not do for ourselves when it comes to righteousness and entrance into the kingdom of heaven? 

Yes.

Thanks be to God. 

You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:14-16

Jesus is not here talking to you or me. He is talking to us. 

The plural form of the "You" means that the image is one of corporate, not individual identity.

Did you notice how Jesus doesn't say "a light?" If there is light in the world, it will be the light that we are together.

The light is not for the world, but of the world. The sun and the moon God created way back in the beginning are for the world. To simply be for the world is too limited a calling for the light Jesus is speaking about here. This light shines from out of the world - for we are decidely of the world; we are, each one of us, the handiwork of God - God's creation.  

Jesus' "you are" is followed by two "cannots" - because this, then not this and not this.

The corporate place - the city, is built on a hill. From its elevated location it is easily visible. Such a situation includes an impossibility - that it "cannot be hidden."

The "cannot be hiddeness" of the city speaks to the agency of the city--or to the fruitlessness of any such efforts on the part of would be disappearing-act-types who might not have the best interests of the city in mind--rather than about those who might see it from a distance. Perhaps Jesus is addressing the tendency his followers will have to blend in and escape notice - especially when such notice holds the potential to lead to exclusion or persecution.

The city image suggests that by virtue of what and where it is, the city cannot be hidden. If "this," then "this must be so." It follows then, that if it is hidden, it is no longer a city on a hill.

What you are determines how you will be.

In the same way that a hilltop city by definition cannot be hidden, the people who is together "the light of the world" will also have an effect - an "if this, then that must be also."

The second "cannot" is set in a house. A lamp is lit to give light. There is purpose in lighting the lamp, and an accompanying expectation that the light will act like a light. And there is a place for the lamp where it best fulfills its function - to give light to everyone in the house.

The city and the lamp are are both located particularly - "on a hill" and "on its stand." The city can be seen - it can't help but be seen. The lamp enables sight - it can't help but enable seeing. 

In the same way... 

Jesus is interested in "the same way" and not some other ways like trying to hide the light, or trying to keep it for ourselves, or choosing to give the light to some people and not others.

These two different images - the city and the lamp - work together to offer a single fabric of meaning: who you are and what you enable is intended for others - that they too may praise "our Father in heaven." 

Jesus' "let' suggests that shining is a choice. And it is one that must be made.

If our light is to shine, it will, because we have given it permission to do so. 

Those before whom the "You" in view here will shine is "the world," the "everyone in the house." It is at the point where light shines before others that light becomes "the light of the world."

Because of the "that they may," we know that light shines for a purpose beyond mere illumination.

What does light look like when it shines?

I have a decent sense of this when it comes to the sun and stars, or the lights in my house or the ones on the car driving towards me. But when it comes to our light - to the corporate light of God's people, how do we recognize it when we see it? How do we know when we've been shining?

Jesus is decidedly vague with respect to what shining looks like, but he is clear about the intended outcomes. Jesus describes and ties together two outcomes according to which we can evaluate our shine.

I used to assume that in this teaching, Jesus is commending good deeds to his followers - that good deeds will lead others to glorify God. There is something to this notion. First century deeds were understood to reflect good or bad on the head of the family and on the families god(s)... all this went without saying.

The good deeds of God's people are an expression of God's people in the same way that shining is an expression of light. 

We still see this interpretation acted out by certain Christ followers when something great happens in their lives like scoring a touchdown, or singing really well or whatever.

Because good deeds too easily point right back at the doer, these Christ followers credit their good deeds to God for God's glory. There is something to this, but I'm not sure it represents the entire spectrum of possibilities present in Jesus words as they are presented here by Matthew.  

Here's the thing, Jesus doesn't say "see and then glorify..."

Rather than one being cause for the other, seeing good deeds and glorifying God seem to sit alongside each other. There is not one, but two desired outcomes of shining: good deeds are seen by others, and, glory is given to God.

Perhaps the key to understanding Jesus' intent here is to go back to the city and the lamp.

The visibility of the city gives meaning and direction to Jesus' intent behind "see your good deeds." Good deeds are not an accessory, or something that God's people add in order to be faithful. Good deeds are as intrinsic to God's people as the visibility of the city follows from its size and elevated location

The illuminating function of the lamp on its stand gives meaning and direction to Jesus' intention behind "that they may glorify your Father in heaven." When a lamp gives light to a room, it makes plain what is otherwise hidden from sight. In this case, the light reveals the Father of lights, from whom "Every desirable and beneficial gift comes...the gifts are rivers of light cascading down from the Father of Light..." (James 1:17a).

Together, we are the light of the world. Not because we are so bright, but because we have been so illumined, so set on fire from the Father of Light.

So shine.

Blaze. 

Because without the light, well... it's just dark.