Rev. Nick Cheek
Matthew 5: 1-10
When the children were younger, every summer after the last week of school we would pack our minivan to the brim and depart for a 12-hour drive to the shores of Fort Myers Beach. My parents have a cozy condo just across from the shore that they generously allow us to use. During our stay, our days were filled with splashes at the pool and explorations on the beach. At the pool, I often take moments to unwind, losing myself in the pages of a good book, or taking a nap. But when I step onto the sandy beach, I dive headfirst into the waves alongside my children. I turn into an adventurous child searching for shells and digging through the sand to create a castle or a makeshift kiddie pool. I love the beach during the day… but my favorite time is in the evening, when things begin to quiet down a bit. In fact, every night I make a point of checking when the sun sets so we can see it—every night. By the week’s end, I practically drag my family along the shoreline each night. “We can’t miss it!” I insist. “Every sunset is a masterpiece, a unique spectacle crafted by God for us to enjoy. It’s simply breathtaking, don’t you see?” My family usually responds with playful eye rolls, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, Dad… we know… it’s pretty.” Well, a few years ago I was only able to convince Ada to join me for one of the evenings. I think she was 4 or 5.
We walked the beach for a little while, hand in hand… taking our sandals off and letting the waves run over them. As the sun got closer to the horizon we stood still… both of us watching the colors change into rich deep shades of purple, pink, red and orange. The entire sky above us transformed. It was beautiful. And as the last little bit of the sun disappeared, I noticed Ada do something. She kissed her hand and blew a kiss towards the sea. It was one of those moments you cherish as a parent and will always remember. I just enjoyed it in silence… not to enter the moment or stain it with my words. As we began our sandy trek back, I finally broke the stillness, asking her gently, “Sweetheart, were you blowing a kiss to the sun?” “No, Daddy,” she replied with unwavering sincerity, “I was blowing God a kiss.” (Ahhh… wow)
Oh, to be a child again! To possess a heart unblemished by the harsh realities of life—one that has yet to feel the weight of hate, violence, or discord. Oh, to have a heart that is soft instead of hardened, a heart that pain, trials, or the stresses of adulthood have not burdened. Oh, to possess a heart that sees God in the vibrant hues of a sunset. [Pause]
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
The Beatitudes are part of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus’ first teachings. And they are grouped into two categories. The first four describe those who are in need. Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, and the hungry. The next three describe those who resemble God. Blessed are the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers. Jesus moves those in attendance from receivers and listeners into active participation within the kingdom he is shaping. Happy are those who practice purity of heart… Happy are those who convey mercy to others… happy are those who practice forgiveness and peace, for when you do those things… you are emulating the qualities of Christ. Our Beatitude today suggests that when our hearts are pure… we will actually have eyes to see God at work… among us. Our pure hearts will help us to see what God is up to in the world.
In the early Christian community, the idea of having a pure heart became an important symbol of personal change and growth. James 4:8 emphasizes this by saying, “Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.” Here, James highlights the struggle people often have when their loyalties are divided, contrasting it with the peace that comes from being fully devoted to a certain way of life.
Philosopher Kierkegaard expressed this idea well when he talked about the importance of focusing on one clear goal, specifically, pursuing God’s kingdom above anything else that can distract us in life.
Blessed are the pure in heart… for they will SEE GOD.
The promise Jesus speaks of today connects to many other places in Scripture. In Psalm 24, the psalmist writes, “Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord? And who shall stand in his holy place? Those who have clean hands and pure hearts… who seek the face of God.”
Proverbs 22 tells us that “Those who love a pure heart and whose speech is gracious will have the king for their friend.” 1 Samuel reminds us, “The Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”
How is your heart, church? Is it pure? Is it undivided? Is it soft and open to God’s shaping? Is it hopeful? Does your heart allow you to see God at work in your life, in your family’s life, in this place we call Trinity, in our world? Practicing a pure heart isn’t easy. We’re more apt to argue than to understand, to accuse rather than to listen, to focus on what divides us rather than what holds us together. To try to be right instead of embracing a spirit of humility.
If Jesus looked at our world… the way we speak to one another, the way we treat one another… he might say, “We have a heart condition.” He might say our hearts have a propensity for hardness. And when hearts grow hard, church, there’s little room left for the things of God; forgiveness, acceptance, love, and grace.
And throughout the Gospels, Jesus continually makes it clear that outward piety doesn’t equal inward purity. The best examples are when Jesus confronts the religious elite… calling them out for their hypocrisy. “You are like whitewashed tombs,” he says… “on the outside you appear to people as righteous, but on the inside you are full of wickedness.” This is important to note this morning. For what we realize is that purity of heart doesn’t come about by “doing all the right things.” Purity of heart isn’t a repercussion of knowing your Bible backwards and forwards… or following a stringent moral code. Purity of heart may not even be about adhering to the straight and narrow. Some of the most celebrated and revered characters in the Bible messed up royally… veering completely off course… but they ultimately found their way back with contrite hearts… and they were welcomed with mercy. Barbara Brown Taylor reminds us that, “A pure heart is not a heart scrubbed clean of sin; it is a heart opened wide to the world God loves.”
Think about the crowd that was there to listen to Jesus when he preached about the Beatitudes. These folks… they would not categorize themselves as the pious… they were not the religious elite… they were not the pillars of the community… they were not the wealthy… Most of them were ordinary Galileans: fishermen, farmers, laborers, widows, the sick, the poor, and the outcast. They came from the small towns scattered around the Sea of Galilee… rural communities on the edges of the big city. These folks had no titles to their names; they didn’t have seats among the powerful. Instead of perfection… they brought with them their own stories of brokenness… they brought with them their failures and successes… their fears… their hopes… and their mess-ups all mixed up together. They also brought with them their desire for something more… a hunger and thirst for the divine… They were hoping to peer into the holy… to find a glimpse of grace and mercy. They wanted to see God. And what they found on that mountain wasn’t a pure and perfect rabbi… they found a dirty, rugged teacher… who spent time with “sinners.” They found a unique religious figure who would rather be out on a hill in the outskirts of town… than in a temple filled with gold and glory.
In Hebrew tradition, the concept of “seeing God” is closely associated with entering God’s presence, a privilege typically reserved for the priests of the temple or for prophets who experience divine glory when entering the holy of holies. Jesus, however, reshapes this understanding; he turns it on its head by extending the promise of divine encounter to ordinary disciples gathered on a hillside. He tells them… blessed are you… the pure in heart… for YOU will see God. Yes, you… everyday… ordinary… struggling… imperfect… people. According to Jewish scholar Amy-Jill Levine, this scene represents a democratization of holiness; seeing God is no longer confined to sacred spaces or positions of religious power… through Christ, it is accessible to all who seek to live lives with soft hearts bent toward the kingdom of God.
Purity of heart, then, is not perfectionism… it is presence. It is a way of living awake to God’s nearness. To “see God” is to recognize holiness breaking into ordinary life: in a conversation that softens anger, in forgiveness that feels impossible, in the quiet courage of those who keep showing up for one another.
In church community… our collective heart reflects the center of our culture… our heart… is our identity, our fellowship, our calling… our way of being. For us, a church in transition, the heart can easily become divided. Anxiety can cloud vision. Tension can form between what was and what is emerging. Grief over the way it used to be can also cause us to be overly cautious about what’s next. When we hold the past close, we do so not because we’re stubborn, but because it holds our stories: baptisms, weddings, worship, prayers, faces of those who have moved on. And so, letting go can feel like losing them all over again. But, friends, the God who meets us here… is not bound to yesterday. God’s promise is that God is making a way… calling us… inviting us… to have faith in what the Spirit is up to. It is not that the chapters of the past are closed shut. No. Trinity, you can always open those pages. You can always remember. You can continue to be grateful for the past. You can smile… you can laugh, you can celebrate, you can even grieve. But what we must not do… what we can’t afford to do is continue to live there. If we do… we may miss the new pages God is writing right in front of us. And Trinity… they could be beautiful pages. Miraculous pages. Pages that give you a hope and a future.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Church, may our hearts be soft enough… pure enough… to see God at work in one another, in the fellowship of believers, in the ministry we share, in the breaking of bread, in the beauty still unfolding. And as we look toward what’s next, may we do so with hearts wide open, trusting that the same God who met us in every chapter before now… is walking with us now and into the future.
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.