The sermons ofPeter McKnight

Anger and Reconciliation

Sermon on the MountMatthew 5:21-26 (approximate)Lynbrook Baptist Church, Lynbrook, New York

Two roads lead from Kuwait City. One road leads south, to Saudi Arabia, the other leads north to Iraq. One road is a highway of victory, the other road is a highway of death.

Two armies traveled those roads. The American Army even now comes back from Kuwait City in triumph along the road to Saudi Arabia. Flags flutter, people cheer, the troops wave to passers by. But the road north is silent, strewn mile after mile with the twisted and burned wreckage of the Iraqi Army. Their vehicles lay charred and broken on that road, filled with the loot they had robbed from Kuwait.

Just before the Allied invasion, the Iraqi soldiers had scrambled out of the city carrying everything they could with them - a caravan of thieves attempting a last desperate dash to safety. Burdened down and overloaded, that ragtag army of looters bogged down into a monumental traffic jam. None of them would give up their stolen cars and furniture and TV sets so as to be able to travel faster. They were gridlocked by greed. And that is where the Allied jets found them.

One city, but two roads, and two very different destinations.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells us about two spiritual roads that begin at one place. That place is the Law of Moses. That Law is the perfect expression of God’s righteousness. Two roads lead from the Law. Both of them claim to lead you to the kingdom of heaven, but only one of them gets you there. The other is a road of death.

One road is the way of the Pharisees. Thinking to use the Law of God as a way to establish their own righteousness, the Pharisees paved their road with rules and regulations. At every curve and every corner they erected signs which spelled out more and more restrictions for the traveler. The further you travel along that road, the more burdened down you become with the baggage of your own self-righteousness, until you finally grind to a halt - far, far short of the kingdom of heaven.

Jesus said “Don’t take that road. It’s a dead end. If you want to get to the kingdom of heaven, travel my road instead. My road starts at the Law, too. Don’t let anybody tell you that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets - I haven’t come to abolish them, but to fulfill them. There’s nothing wrong with the OT Law; it’s what you do with it that gets you into trouble.

You cannot fulfill the Law of God by traveling down a highway of human righteousness such as the Pharisees have built. 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. You’ve gotta go my way, Jesus said, because my way is God’s way.

Jesus told us all that in Matthew 5:17-20. Now in the next section of the Sermon on the Mount, he’s going to show us how it all works out in daily life. Like the master teacher that he is, he states a principle and then he gives us examples. He’s going to take six practical examples from daily living - Anger, Sexual purity, Faithfulness in marriage, Keeping your promises, Getting vengeance on people who do you wrong, Learning to love your enemies. He’s going to show us how God’s righteousness exceeds that of the Pharisees in each of these areas.

You can easily spot these in your Bible, because in each case, he’s going to introduce the Pharisees’ teaching on the subject by saying “You have heard it was said…” and then he goes on to contrast their teaching with his teaching by saying “but I say to you.” Look at…

Matthew 5:21-22 “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’ But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to his brother, ‘Raca,’ is answerable to the Sanhedrin. But anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell.

Now the statement about murder is the essence of the Pharisees’ teaching on interpersonal conflict. If you murder someone, you’re guilty before the law, and you will be judged accordingly. The implication is that you can do anything short of murder - you can harbor murderous thoughts about a person in your heart - just don’t commit the crime, otherwise you’ll be guilty of breaking the law. That’s Pharisaic righteousness. It’s focused on the outward act and only the outward act.

But Jesus’ righteousness goes far deeper. It goes behind the outward act to the inward cause. It goes below the surface of our actions to what’s going on in our heart. That’s where God’s righteousness really operates - it operates on the heart level. And it has to, because that’s where the problem is. Your heart is where all the law-breaking gets started.

Recently I read the story of a man named Leonard Holt. Leonard Holt was a paragon of respectability. He was a middle-aged, hard-working lab technician who had worked at the same Pennsylvania paper mill for 19 years. He had been a Boy Scout leader, an affectionate father, a member of the local fire brigade, and a regular church-goer. He was admired as a solid citizen, a model member of his community. Until that image exploded in a well-planned hour of bloodshed one brisk October morning.

Leonard Holt decided to mount a one man war against some people he inwardly hated. A proficient marksman, he stuffed two pistols into his coat pockets - a .45 automatic and a Smith and Wesson .38 - before he drove his station wagon to the mill. He parked quietly, and then, gripping a gun in each fist, he slowly stalked into the shop. He started shooting with such frenzy that it looked like a scene from a Clint Eastwood movie. He filled several of his fellow workers with two and three bullets apiece, firing more than 30 shots in all. He deliberately killed some of the men he had known for almost 20 years.

When the police finally took him into custody, the town was in shock. How could such a paragon of the community turn into such a monster? The police investigation led them to discover that underneath Leonard Holt’s veneer of respectability beat a heart full of murderous hatred. Several of his victims had been promoted over him at work. One of them was a man in his car pool who had quit riding with him because of his careless driving. One of them was a neighbor who had been threatened by Holt after an argument over a fallen tree. So Leonard Holt, a nice respectable man on the outside, had murder in his heart on the inside.

And how different is he from each one of us? Maybe the only thing that made him different is that he acted upon the impulses that were there and he dared to carry out the thoughts he had inside.

Jesus said my righteousness isn’t like that of the Pharisees. Their righteousness is aimed at keeping you from getting arrested. But my righteousness is designed to clean out your heart.

In ancient Israel at the time of Jesus, if a man said “Raca” to his neighbor, it was a deep insult. It was an Aramaic word; a term of utter contempt. “Raca” meant something like “You empty-headed idiot.” It was deemed to be so severe, that a person caught saying it to his neighbor could be hauled before the Sanhedrin, which was the Jewish court of law.

Now the Pharisees said “If you want to be righteous, don’t say the “R” word. But Jesus said “What’s the difference between saying ‘Raca’ to your neighbor, or just calling him a fool. Either way, you’re heart attitude toward him is the same; only your words are different. And if you have that kind of hatred in your heart toward your neighbor, you are on the road to hell.”

Pharisaic righteousness is a surface righteousness, but God’s righteousness - the righteousness of the Law - true righteousness - is meant to operate on the heart level.

Is Jesus saying that it always wrong to get angry? Didn’t Jesus get angry at times, like when he cleared out the temple? The Bible says that there is a time to be angry. It even says in EPH 4:26 “In your anger do not sin.”

There is a place for burning with anger at sin and injustice. But our problem is that we burn with anger and indignation, not at sin and injustice, but when we ourselves have been injured or offended. In none of the cases when Jesus was angry was his personal ego wrapped up in the issue. He cleared the Temple not once, but twice, because the priests and the merchants were dishonoring God the Father and committing a great sin by hindering the people from worshiping God.

The most telling thing about Jesus was that when he was personally attacked, he didn’t get angry. When he was unjustly arrested, unfairly tried, illegally beaten, contemptuously mocked and spit upon, and cruelly crucified, when in fact he had every reason for his ego to be involved, then, as Peter says “He did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats.” Instead, from his parched lips came those gracious words “Father forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing.”

Let’s admit it: we are very quick to be angry when it’s our ox that’s being gored, but very slow to be angry when sin and injustice are involved. When the Bible says “Be angry and do not sin”, it means to get angry about the things that made Jesus angry and only those things.

Now there’s a very important implication to this teaching about anger.

Matthew 5:23-25 “Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift. Settle matters quickly with your adversary who is taking you to court. Do it while you are still with him on the way, or he may hand you over to the judge, and the judge may hand you over to the officer, and you may be thrown into prison.

Jesus is talking here about the importance of personal reconciliation. When anger has been the result of interpersonal relations, it is the Christian’s duty to go and seek reconciliation - even if he’s not the one who is angry.

Jesus gives us an interesting illustration. It is of a man who is on his way to worship God at the Temple. That, in Jesus day, was the most important activity in all of human life. The man arrives at the altar with his gift, he about to offer his sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving to God. The angels are looking on, God is waiting, the choir is singing, the priests are standing by. Nothing could be more proper or noble or important at that moment in that man’s life than that, right? Wrong!

Jesus says that if you are about to worship God, and you remember that your brother has something against you, first you’d better go and make things right with your brother. Leave your gift there in front of the altar. Drop everything! First go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift. God doesn’t want your gift of worship if, somewhere out there, you’ve left a relationship unreconciled.

How many people would be in church today all across America if we did this? But if we are going to genuinely follow the Lord Jesus Christ, then we’re going to have to do it this way. Because this is how deep his righteousness goes. It isn’t a surface righteousness. It’s a heart righteousness. Jesus says that you can’t get all dolled up to go to church thinking everything is ok while you’re leaving strewn in your wake all kinds of broken relationships. Jesus says “Hey, I don’t need followers like that. You do that, and you’re not a disciple, you’re a disaster!”

We all learned this week that Howard Johnson of the Mets has become a born again Christian. I hope its true, but I don’t know for sure, because you can’t believe everything you read in the paper, especially when that paper is Newsday!

But there was something very interesting in that article. Some of the other guys on the Mets expressed that they were going to take a “wait and see” attitude toward Johnson. Why? Because there had been previous guys on the Mets who were supposed to have been born-again Christians. These guys were right up front in the chapel services, but when it came to living the way that Christians were supposed to live, they didn’t cut it. They weren’t nice people to be around. They were always looking out for Number 1, just like everybody else in the world. In their case, you spelled Christian “h-y-p-o-c-r-i-t-e”

In Jesus’ day, if you owed somebody some money and you didn’t pay him, he could take you to court, and then you’d be thrown into debtor’s prison. And when you were in prison, you couldn’t work, so you couldn’t possibly pay it off! Your family and friends would have to do it for you, if they could.

That’s what Jesus is talking about in verses 25 and 26. He’s saying “If you’ve got a broken relationship, if you’ve offended somebody in your life through some careless, or insensitive, or less-than-Christian behavior, then it’s just as important to make that right as it is to pay your debts. Reconciliation is the only thing that can give you a good credit rating as a Christian.

Tragically, there are some Christians who’ve gone through life alienating so many people that they’ve reached the point where no matter what they do now, they’re never going to win those people back. It’s like they’re in debtors prison now - they can’t pay back the debts they owe. And the church is left holding the bill. Maybe the church can pay it off, maybe not.

How do you reconcile with your brother? Try saying “I’m sorry.” Don’t say “I’m sorry if I offended you.” because that puts the onus back on your brother for being offended! Say “I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?” These may be the hardest words you’ve ever said. But God will give you the grace to say them, because God is interested in giving you a righteousness that comes from the heart.

I shouted aloud and louder

While out on the plain one day

The sound grew fainter and fainter

Until it had died away.

My words had gone forever

They left no trace or track

But the hills nearby caught up the cry

And sent an echo back.

I spoke a word in anger

To one who was my friend,

Like a knife it cut him deeply,

A wound that was hard to mend.

That word, so thoughtlessly uttered,

I would we could both forget,

But its echo lives and the memory gives

The recollection yet.

How many hearts are broken

How many friends are lost

By some unkind word spoken

Before we count the cost?

But a word or deed of kindness

Will repay a hundredfold

For it echoes again in the hearts of men

And carries a joy untold.