The Rains Came Down and the Floods Came Up

A sermon preached by Dr. Jim Somerville
Pastor, Richmond’s First Baptist Church
Richmond, Virginia
The Third Sunday after Pentecost
June 1, 2008

          Today’s Gospel reading is from Matthew 7:21-29.  It is the conclusion of the “Sermon on the Mount,” which begins in chapter 5 and continues for three full chapters.  Listen to the way Jesus brings his best-known sermon to a close:   

"Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.  On that day many will say to me, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your name?'  Then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.' 

"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.  The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock.  And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand.  The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell--and great was its fall!"

Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes (NRSV). 

You can ask anyone who’s tried it:  the only thing harder than a sermon introduction is a sermon conclusion.  The introduction is hard enough.  People walk into a church sanctuary from every conceivable situation.  The man whose business is on the verge of bankruptcy has been up all night, worrying.  He comes to church in the hope that here, at least, he can find some peace of mind.  The single mother has struggled to get her children up and fed and dressed so she can get them to Sunday school on time.  When she comes into the sanctuary she’s exhausted, hoping for a few minutes’ peace and quiet.   The college freshman comes sneaking in the back door feeling guilty for all the things he did last night, wondering if anyone will be able to tell, hoping that God can forgive him.  The elderly woman whose husband died last year settles into her pew with a sigh, dreaming of the day when she can come to church without feeling so empty and sad.   And so the preacher who stands in front of a congregation has to bring people from all those different places to one place, and from all those different concerns to the concern of the sermon. 

It isn’t easy.

          But in the Sermon on the Mount Jesus does it.  He climbs that hillside and sits down to teach, watching as the crowd settles down around him.  He looks at their faces, feels their pain, and then he gathers up the loose threads of their circumstances and weaves them together in a single tapestry of blessedness.  He says, “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.”  And so on and so forth until everyone in that crowd has been blessed, until they are sitting up, smiling, eager to hear what he has to say next.  It is the perfect introduction to the greatest sermon ever preached, and it just gets better from there.  Jesus tells these people they are the salt of the earth, the light of the world.  He calls them to a righteousness that exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees.  He teaches them to pray.  He dares them to forgive.  He tells them not to worry.  You can almost see them, can’t you?  Nodding their heads, murmuring their approval, saying, “Yes, Lord.  Yes!” 

And that’s when Jesus brings it to a close.

          The only thing harder than a sermon introduction is a sermon conclusion.  The introduction is how you try to get everybody on the same page but the conclusion is when you try to convince them that being there matters.  I know preachers who write the words So what? at the bottom of their sermons, and if they can’t come up with a good answer to that question the sermon isn’t ready to preach.  So, here’s Jesus, preaching the Sermon on the Mount, with everybody smiling and nodding and saying, “Yes, sir!” and “Amen!” and “Lord, Lord!” when he stops and says, “You know, not everyone who says ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” 

They can hardly believe it.  “What?  What are you talking about?” 

“Just what I said,” he answers.  “Not everyone who says, ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” 

There’s an awkward silence, and then someone says, “Oh, wait a minute.  I know what you’re talking about.  You mean those people who only give lip service to their faith, the ones Isaiah was talking about when he said, “This people honors me with their lips but their hearts are far from me.”

“Well, yes,” Jesus says, “but not only those.  Some of the most religious people you know aren’t going to make it.  Some who have prophesied in my name, cast out demons in my name, done mighty works in my name.  They’ll be standing at the gate on that day, begging me to let them in, and I’ll say, “I don’t even know who you are.  Go away from me you evildoers.”

And that’s when the awkward silence gets even more awkward.

Finally someone clears her throat and says, “Well, Lord, if those people can’t get in, then who can?”

“That’s easy,” Jesus says. “Everyone who does the will of my Father.”

Let me interrupt to remind you that I’m not making this up.  It’s in the Bible.  It’s right there in today’s Gospel lesson from Matthew 7.  But it almost sounds like a contradiction of something else that’s in the Bible, doesn’t it?  In our Epistle reading from Romans Paul assures us that we aren’t saved by works, but by faith.  He says, “We hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works” (3:28).  In other words, it’s not what we do that saves us, but what we believe.  Isn’t that right?  A little later in Romans Paul says, “If you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved” (10:9).  But here’s Jesus saying that the ones who will enter the Kingdom of Heaven are not those who say, “Lord, Lord,” but those who do the will of his father.  It’s a little confusing, isn’t it?  What’s needed at this point is a clear, concise sermon illustration, and in the very next section of this remarkable sermon Jesus gives us one.

“Look,” he says, “Everyone who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.  The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it stood firm, because it had been founded on rock.  But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand.  The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell—and great was its fall!"  

The only thing harder than a sermon introduction is a sermon conclusion, and this one is hard.  Jesus seems to be saying that unless you do what he says you are bound for destruction.  It’s like it was in the time of Noah, when God decided to destroy the earth with a flood because nobody was doing what he wanted them to.  All those people could think about was doing evil continually and God was sorry he had ever made them.  He made up his mind to wipe them out.  Only Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord.  Jesus says that many who try to enter the Kingdom of Heaven won’t get in, because they didn’t do the will of the Father.  And then he tells those people who are listening to him that unless they do what he tells them they won’t get in either; their lives will end in ruin.  Let me just say that if the conclusion of a sermon is supposed to answer the “So what?” question, this one has answered it.  It’s nothing less than our lives that are at stake here.

Without trying to settle the question of whether we are saved by faith or by grace could we agree that calling Jesus “Lord” implies a willingness to do what he tells us?  The word Lord is a lot like the word boss.  When your boss tells you to do something, you do it.  If you don’t do it you lose your job.  Jesus suggests that if we call him “Lord, Lord” but never do what he tells us then we’re like a bunch of lazy office workers who spend all day chatting by the water cooler: we shouldn’t be too surprised when we get fired.  Jesus wants us to do what he tells us, and at the end of this sermon he makes it specific.  “Whoever hears these words of mine and acts on them will survive the storms.  Whoever hears these words and doesn’t is headed for disaster.”  Did you get that?  These words.  The words he has just spoken.  The words in the Sermon on the Mount.  Let’s listen to some of them again and imagine what it would take to do them:

• Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.
• You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, “You shall not murder,” but I say to you that you are angry with a brother or sister you will be liable to judgment.
• You have heard that it was said, “You shall not commit adultery,” but I say that everyone who looks at another person lustfully has committed adultery of the heart.
• If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.
• Give to everyone who begs from you.
• Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.
• If you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
• Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth.
• Do not worry about your life, what you will eat and drink, or about your body, what you will wear.
• Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.
• In everything, do to others as you would have them do to you.

“Those who call me Lord should do what I tell them,” Jesus says.  “And these are the things I’m telling them to do.  The ones who hear my words and act on them will be like that wise man who bolted his house to the rock.  The ones who hear them and don’t will be like that foolish man who was washed away in the flood.”  I might direct the question especially to our graduates today, but not only to them:  what kind of person do you want to be: wise or foolish?  Do you want to walk away from these words today and say, “Good sermon, Jesus!  Loved those illustrations.” or do you want to make these words the foundation of your life?

Matthew says that when Jesus was finished preaching the crowds were astounded because he taught them as one with authority, and not as their scribes.  The word authority in Greek is exousia.  It means to come out of one’s own substance.  Jesus didn’t quote the famous rabbis like the scribes did; he just told those people what he wanted them to do.  He spoke out of the authority of his own substance, and if you believe what the theologians tell us his substance was the substance of the Father.  He and the Father were one.  So what he said was the word of God.  “Do it and live,” he offered.  “Don’t and perish.”  It was the greatest sermon ever preached, and a conclusion to end all conclusions.  If that one doesn’t answer the “So what?” question, then the question can’t be answered.