Are you hungry? Are you thirsty?
Let me tell you about a time when I was thirsty. One of my high school football coaches graduated from the “Pain-is-Pleasant” school of coaching. He believed the more harmed we were in practice the more hardened we’d be for games. This was especially true during two-a-days. Each August, we’d gather twice a day for long practices in hot weather. What I most remember about those practices is my thirst. Our coach did not believe in water bottles, water jugs, or water at all. He thought that having water available during practice was a sign of weakness. Thus, even during the hot two-a-days, there was no water to drink. After two hours of drills, plays, and sprints, every electrolyte our bodies possessed had been squeezed out and shot in the back of the head. In the closing minutes of our practices, when we ran the length of the field again and again, I frequently remember almost passing out. And when the coach mercifully ended practice, we’d run into the locker room and drink. We wouldn’t drink from the water fountain. We’d turn the showers on cold and stand under them and guzzle until our bellies were gorged.
Have you ever been thirsty like that?
Let me tell you about a time when I was hungry. Four years ago I ran my first half-marathon. I had never run more than five miles before I started training for that half-marathon. I knew nothing about long-distance running. Things went well for the first part of my training. But when I began to run 9 miles and more at one time, it was a different experience. I’d finish the long run and feel lightheaded, nauseous, and wondering why I was doing this. It wasn’t that I was thirsty. I kept myself hydrated. Instead, I was hungry. I hadn’t been introduced yet to the gel packs that more seasoned runners carry with them which replenish much of what’s lost on a long run. Thus, I’d finish my long run and I’d be starving. I’d get home, open the refrigerator, and grab anything I could find—leftover meatloaf or a slab of cheese and just start feasting.
Have you ever been hungry like that?
Jesus addresses a type of hunger and thirst in his fourth beatitude: [PP text and ref.] “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. (Matt. 5:6 ESV).
Are you hungry? Are you thirsty? More importantly, are you hungry and thirsty for righteousness? Chances are you may be hungry for lunch and you’re already thinking about what’s on the menu at Chili’s or El Mezcal or at home. In fact, let’s take a second and hear from you about lunch today. What you looking forward to eating at lunch today? Yell out what you plan to eat or where you plan to eat today… Some of us this morning are already hungry and thirsty for lunch. Others this morning may be hungry and thirsty for some entertainment or some attention or some companionship. But are you hungry and thirsty for righteousness?
The central point of this beatitude is easy to state: God’s favor falls on those who do not have but do hunger for righteousness. God favors, God blesses people who do not have righteousness but do hunger for righteousness. There is a certain kind of thirsty people whom God favors. There is a certain kind of hungry people whom God adores. There is a hunger and a thirst which Jesus specializes in satisfying. It’s a hunger and thirst for righteousness.
Righteousness is one of Jesus’ favorite topics in this Sermon on the Mount:
- “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:10 ESV)
- “For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:20 ESV)
- “Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 6:1 ESV)
- “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” (Matt. 6:33 ESV)
You may be hungry and thirsty for many things this morning. But the question Jesus is asking is this: Are you hungry and thirsty for righteousness? Could you stand under the cold shower of righteousness and guzzle until you are gorged? Could you stand at the refrigerator of righteousness and feast until you are full?
Well, that depends, doesn’t it? That depends on what Jesus means by righteousness. The word “righteousness” sounds so religious. It seems like one of those unreachable words that only apply to the super spiritual. Let’s talk for a minute about righteousness. In the Bible righteousness is both personal and public, both earthly and heavenly. Righteousness is something that has to do with me. It’s personal. It relates to something going on in my life. But righteousness in the Bible is also public. Righteousness does not just refer to something going on in my life. It’s also used to talk about what’s going on in the lives of others. It’s not just personal. It’s also public. Some people are hungering for righteousness in their personal lives. Others are thirsting for righteousness to be given into the lives of others. And in this beatitude, Jesus is addressing both.
In addition, righteousness is earthly and heavenly. New Testament scholar Frederick Dale Bruner suggests that you can color the word righteousness with a sky blue crayon and an earthy-brown crayon.[i] Righteousness has to do with me and heaven. But it also has to do with me and earth. Righteousness refers the heavenly or spiritual part of life. But it also refers to the earthly and daily part of life. Some people are hungering for something which has to do with God and heaven. Others are thirsting for something that has to do with earth and life right now. In this beatitude, Jesus is addressing both.
And so as we come to Café Jesus this morning, Jesus hands us the menu. There’s only one special on the menu. It’s righteousness. They don’t have a lot variety at this café. But what they do, they do really well. They only offer one special: righteousness. But Jesus tells us that he, the chef, can prepare that specialty in different ways. Perhaps if you’re not hungry for one preparation, you may be hungry for the other.
First, Jesus says, he can prepare today’s specialty in a personal and heavenly way. Personal and heavenly righteousness involves me and the God I’ve hurt. It’s personal—it involves my life. And it’s heavenly—it involves my life with God. Many of us have come to this place this morning with a keen sense that says, “I am not righteous when it comes to God. I am unrighteous. I do not treat God rightly. I do not treat others rightly. I lust. I become angry. I do things to draw attention to myself. I neglect people close to me. Righteousness is not something I have. And my unrighteousness has hurt God. It’s offended God. But I don’t want to stay that way. I long to be different. I dream of being someone who is righteous. I imagine being the man I am not—someone who treats God and others rightly. Someone who is generous and caring and not so driven and not so lustful.”
And for those of us sitting at Jesus’ table this morning who are hungering for the right personal relationship with God that we do not have, Jesus says, “I’ve got a dish for you. If you hunger and thirst for that righteousness, I can satisfy that hunger.” The good news of this personal and heavenly plate is that even though I do not have but do hunger for righteousness, God favors me. You’d think this beatitude would say, “Blessed are those who are righteous.” That’s how every other religion in the world works. First, you become righteous. First you act rightly. Then, you get God’s favor. But in Café Jesus, it’s just the opposite. The favor comes before you ever become righteous. The favor comes in spite of the fact that you are not righteous. Righteousness ceases to be something we earn and it becomes something we are given.
Luke records a wonderful story Jesus told about this: “9He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: 10″Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ 13But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ 14I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other.” (Lk. 18:9-14 ESV). Whom did God favor? God did not favor the Pharisee—the one who read his Bible daily, attended worship regularly, and gave sacrificially. He didn’t bless the one who seemed righteous. He blessed the one who had no righteousness—but who did crave righteousness. The tax collector was involved in racketeering, corruption, aiding and abetting. He had no righteousness. But he dreamed of something different. He longed to be what he was not. And that person, Jesus says, has God’s favor. That person, Jesus says, will walk away satisfied. The good news is that even though you do not have but do hunger for righteousness, God favors you.
As you pull up a chair to Jesus’ table this morning, perhaps this is your hunger. You’ve come here longing to be what you are not. You’ve arrived famished for a right relationship with God that you do not have. Jesus says, “I’ve got a dish for you. It’s called righteousness. And it will satisfy you like nothing you’ve ever had before.”
Some us, however, may not sense that hunger. So Jesus points us elsewhere on the menu. “May I recommend a different preparation of our specialty this morning?” he says. Perhaps you’re not craving a personal and heavenly plate. Perhaps what you crave is a personal and earthly plate. Personal and heavenly righteousness involves me and the God I’ve hurt. But personal and earthly righteousness involves me and those who have hurt me.
Righteousness is not just about my relationship with God. It’s about my relationship with other people. As I read this beatitude I may be the victim of unkind and unjust treatment from other people. I may be hurting physically or emotionally because of evil or selfish people. They’ve acted in an unrighteous way toward me this week. And I’m hurting. I’m hungering for revenge.
And the good news of this beatitude is that God favors me and will vindicate me. One way to translate “righteousness” is with the word “vindication.”[ii] If I’ve been hurt by others, I’m hungering and thirsting for vindication. I’m hungering and I’m thirsting for an end to the mistreatment. And the promise here is that God’s going to vindicate me. I don’t have to take matters into my own hands. In his time and in his way God will vindicate me.
As you come to Café Jesus, perhaps you’ve come with heartache or an ulcer or anxiety or worry because someone has hurt you deeply. You are hungering and thirsting for righteousness in the form of vindication. And Jesus, “I’ve got a dish for that. I’ve got some comfort food for that. It’s a dish called righteousness. Let me just prepare it for you in a personal and earthly way.”
Maybe neither of these first two dishes sounds appetizing. Maybe your hunger lies elsewhere. And so Jesus points to another preparation. He’s a skilled chef. And he can do amazing things with this simple ingredient of righteousness. “May I recommend for you,” Jesus says, “a public plate of righteousness? I’ll give it a heavenly flash and an earthly grit but it’s going to be prepared public style.” Maybe your hunger this morning is not about yourself but about others. And Jesus says, “I’ve got a dish for that. Let me prepare you a big public plate of earthly and heavenly righteousness.” Public, earthly and heavenly righteousness is about the world who’s hurt God and been hurt by others. New Testament scholar Warren Carter points out that literal thirst and literal hunger are caused by unjust practices and inadequate resources. They are often caused by the greed and materialism of others, especially in Jesus’ day.[iii] And righteousness thus referred to everyone finally getting the resources they needed to live and prosper.[iv]
Mark Galli writes:[v] “Righteousness was a word packed with meaning in that day. When Jesus’ listeners heard it, they would immediately have thought of things like this: A world where the sick were healed, the hungry were fed, the naked clothed; a world where the poor got justice, and the oppressors got their due; a world where war was no more; a global community where the love of God rules. When people of that day heard that word righteousness, they thought first of a world that was set right.”
And in our finest moments, isn’t that what we ultimately long for? In our brightest moments, isn’t that what we crave? Our dream focuses not on ourselves. It focuses on the world of people around us. We dream of a world being set right. We fantasize about a world where the Melanesian Bible College in Papua New Guinea closes its doors because every human on those islands knows the crazy love of God. We call Nathan and Karen Luther back permanently from the Philippines because every child and adult on those islands is filled with the Spirit of God. Memphis Urban Ministry shuts down because there are no more urban poor. Agape holds a party because they can’t find a single child who doesn’t already have a loving and stable family. And Ron Wade has to find a new job because there are no more unemployed to help through Hope Works.
The biblical word that summarizes our best hopes and our most selfless dreams and our deepest hunger is the word “righteousness.” It refers to the world being set right. No more people hurting God. No more people being hurt by others. And Jesus says, “If that’s your craving, please take a seat. I’ve prepared a meal for you. It’s called righteousness.”
Are you hungry? Are you thirsty? Some of you have cravings that Jesus has no interest in filling. But if you’ve come hungering for a right relationship with God, if you’ve come thirsting for an end to some mistreatment, if you’ve come aching for a world set right, pull up a chair, and put on a bib. It’s time for righteousness. You can drink like you’ve been to a two-a-day practice and you’ve just turned on the shower. You can eat like you’ve just run ten miles and you’re standing with the refrigerator door open. Don’t be shy. Just dig in. It’s time for righteousness.
[i] Bruner, 144.
[ii] Bruner, 142.
[iii] Warren Carter Matthew and the Margins (Orbis, 2005), 133.
[iv] Ibid.
[v] Mark Galli “Starving for a Better World,” Christianity Today Sept. 1, 2008 www.christianitytoday.com
