Raising the Bar - Sermon on the Mount

My best pal knocked on the door and said to me 'I'm going to be a priest'. I replied "So am I!" At the age of 17 I had no inclination to become a priest and was hoping to enter the world of geekdom and be a computer scientist. My reply to my friend surprised myself and I must emphasise that the thought had not crossed my mind. It came out of the blue.

Weeks before that I had started reading the scriptures for the first time. The Sermon on the Mount was one of the first encounters I had with the teaching of Jesus. This and many other texts, I poured over, devoured, enthused by its radicalness.

Christ's words in the Sermon seemed to speak to me directly. I believed in a 'God' out there and I believed that he had a Son. I was a religious boy and probably stood out in my class as someone who against convention went to Church. Most of my contemporaries in my confirmation group had since drifted away. But I believe that for God this was not enough and He demanded more from me. Up until then I was sleepwalking into self-righteousness.

The most challenging of words really hit home; "For if you love only those who love, what reward do you have?" This cut me to the quick. It destabilised my spiritual foundation. Faith in action meant walking the extra mile and loving beyond the security of family and friends. It meant, and still means, doing the maximum rather than getting away with the minimum.

Because this was the bottom line of much of the rabbinical debate of the age of Jesus; ie. what is the least a devout person can do to follow the Torah, the Law, and therefore be saved? Holiness then got measured in a dry empty practice of religion rather than a radical life-giving spirituality. The synagogue became a holy club which largely excluded the poor and marginalised. Religious people thought themselves different but they were no different from any others. They read about holiness in Leviticus and other books but forgot the heart of its mandate was the care of the poor and hospitality to strangers.

We cannot underestimate how difficult it is to follow the Sermon on the Mount. It takes no effort to preach the love of enemies but mountenous to do. I think of Jimmy Mizen, 16, from Lee in London who was stabbed to death in his local bakery recently. A gentle giant who loved life, popular at school, served at church. His mother is quite adamant that she must forgive his 19 year old murderer and reach out to his parents. How many of us would be able to say the same thing? Is this not true holiness?

I really worry that our churches are not inspiring our young adults to follow Jesus Christ. Not only has the culture of regular catechesis and teaching disappeared but more significantly the offer of a radical life in Jesus seems no longer verbalised. If the bar is not raised then few will follow.