Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Ash Wednesday | 2/22/2023 | Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21 | Paul Bieber |

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21 Revised Standard Version

6  Jesus said, “Beware of practicing your piety before men in order to be seen by them; for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven.

² “Thus, when you give alms, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by men. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. ³ But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, ⁴ so that your alms may be in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

⁵ “And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by men. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. ⁶ But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

¹⁶ “And when you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by men. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. ¹⁷ But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, ¹⁸ that your fasting may not be seen by men but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

¹⁹ “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, ²⁰ but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. ²¹ For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

also

Joel 2.1–2, 12–17

Psalm 103.8–14; Tone 2

II Corinthians 5.20b—6.10

 

The Father’s Reward

Grace, mercy, and peace, to you

from God our Father and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

The calendar of the Church’s year of grace has brought us around again to the holy season of Lent. Again we hear St. Paul’s call to be reconciled to God. Again we hear Jesus’ teaching from the Sermon on the Mount about the three traditional Lenten disciplines: charity, prayer, and fasting. Again we hear the prophet Joel’s call to sanctify a fast, “yet even now” to return to the Lord our God.

We begin this Liturgy, and this whole season of repentance, chanting the words of that great sinner David, adulterer and murderer, praying for mercy and forgiveness. This is the way we begin our repentance, our turning, our returning again to the Lord, full of compassion and mercy, slow to anger and of great kindness, abounding in steadfast love. His mercy is as great as the heavens are high. We confess our sins, we identify as sinners. Only in this way can we return and seek reconciliation.

Of course we are free to repent whenever we will, but the liturgical year calls for repentance as a preparation for the celebration of the mighty acts that won our salvation: the cross and rising of Jesus. For our sake he was made to be sin, that we might become the righteousness of God.

But there’s a danger when we speak of righteousness. I want to use the Lenten pentitential practices to seek the righteousness of God revealed through faith for faith, but I may find myself seeking my own righteousness. As the Free To Be Confirmation curriculum so eloquently puts it, “the old you gets religion.” My self-centered and quite unrepentant human nature can use even the traditional lenten disciplines to make me feel good about myself instead of confronting my sin. Righteousness that is focused on itself is unrighteous. Jesus explains how this can happen.

In this part of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is concerned to reshape our devotional practices by emphasizing the inner state of our hearts, our motivation, as we undertake the external acts of charity, prayer, and fasting. He does not diminish the necessity of doing these things. They are very good things indeed, but we must do these good things in a good way. As we undertake the devotional practices of Lent, Jesus would have us consider the intentions behind our practices.

The basic distinction is between attention-seeking pious practice, and pious practice done for the Father who sees in secret. At first glance, Jesus’ call for an unobserved piety might seem inconsistent with the call we heard just a few weeks ago from the previous chapter of the Sermon, to “let [our] light so shine.” But there is no inconsistency: the light of our good works, our faith active in love, is to shine so that those who see it may glorify not us but our Father in heaven. And the Father who also sees in secret is the only audience for genuine piety.

“Audience?” Yes, because those whose piety is not genuine are called by Jesus “hypocrites,” etymologically, play-actors. If I undertake devotional practices to impress others or even myself, the best reward I can hope for is that my chosen audience will be impressed. But what good does it do that some other sinner, or even this sinner, is impressed by my religion. The Father who sees in secret sees not religion but faith.

Jesus’ teaching about proper piety addresses these three relationships: with others, with God, and with myself. The relationship with others is addressed through charity; with God, through prayer; with myself, through fasting.

Doing good to others in such a way that the left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing comports with Bonhoeffer’s maxim that a genuine deed of love is always a deed hidden from myself. In that way the focus in on my neighbor’s need, not my own righteousness.

Not being content with praying in Church, but making a time and place for private devotions during Lent remind me that the spirit of prayer is intimate, personal communication with God. And not just telling God what he already knows and what he should do about it, but hearkening for his gracious will.

Fasting is denying my grasping, clinging self that which I think I cannot do without, so that I might escape the control of the passions. Fasting is done to strengthen prayer and combat self-seeking, not to drop a couple of pounds before Easter.

The heart of these practices lies in disentangling ourselves from ourselves and the esteem we seek to receive from others or ourselves. The one who really knows our value, and the value of all that we think, feel, say, and do, is God. The Father is the only One who can really give us a real reward. And a father’s reward is the father’s greater closeness. Forgetting ourselves, we allow our Father to draw near.

The treasures we seek on earth—money, possessions, esteem, values—are insecure. Because we can never really get enough of these treasures, and because they are finally so evanescent, we only become more and more anxious as the treasure slips away. But treasure in heaven is the Father’s acceptance of sinners who turn to him in repentance. Not those who are enough or have enough, but those who, having nothing, discover that the generous heart of God gives them everything. David is, after all, called in Scripture the man after God’s own heart.

To have treasure in heaven, lose your old life and follow Jesus on his cross-bearing path to Calvary and the empty tomb. Stop trying to get enough—you never will—and let go. The First Commandment is that we must have no other gods: not others, not ourselves. We cannot get the value, the treasure that we seek in that way. But the Father is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. The Father cares for us, his children. He remembers that we bear the smudge of contrition, the reminder of sin and its mortal wage even after we anoint our heads and wash our faces. He remembers; he forgives; he renews; indeed, he rewards; and he leads us as we make our way through this holy season.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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The Rev. Dr. Paul Bieber

San Diego, California, USA

E-Mail: paul.bieber@sbcglobal.net