For a long time I thought there was a bit of a tension between Jesus and Paul. I mean, I knew it didn’t make sense—after all, Paul met with Jesus on the Damascus road, Paul was the apostle sent by Jesus to the Gentiles—but there seemed to be a different emphasis in messaging. Paul writes about how everyone is a sinner, there aren’t any righteous people and we are saved by grace alone. Jesus, though, told people to be better. He even said we should be perfect, as our Father in heaven is perfect.

That last statement is directly from Jesus’ most famous sermon, the Sermon on the Mount (see, it even gets capitals!). And when I was younger I read it as a call to action. Jesus says not murdering isn’t enough; you need to not even be angry at your brother. Adultery? Of course that’s wrong, but even looking at an attractive person with lust is something to avoid. And don’t get me started on the wonderful, idealistic call to love enemies, go the extra mile, never judge, and give so that even your own hands don’t know you did it.

I suppose that’s how I took them, as ideals. And so that’s what the Kingdom of heaven became, an idealistic place, a place without reality, really, but rather a sort of an ideal held up for us (humanity) to work toward.

I repent of that. I’ve changed my mind. Probably better (and more hopeful) to say that I’ve grown.

I am convinced that there is a real, actual kingdom of God. The place where he rules and reigns. The place where he is. And to be in that kingdom means that you are a person who belongs there. Who exhibits what the kingdom is about. And Jesus really laid it out for us, so that we would see not only the kingdom, but also ourselves.

And therefore I see Jesus and Paul talking about the same thing. Because when I consider that the kingdom isn’t an ideal but a reality, I realize that I don’t belong. I realize that you don’t either. And I realize Jesus is doing what Paul is doing: there aren’t any righteous people. We need to be saved by grace alone.

See, I continue to struggle with lust. Not the in-your-face-adultery kind, but the longing for things that God doesn’t long for. He and I don’t see eye to eye on gut-level things, and that means I’m wrong. I’m twisted. I get frustrated (and yes, that’s just another word for angry) at my brother. I definitely know when I make a sacrificial gift, and I give myself lots of back-pats. I don’t want to love my enemy, I usually want to bring them to justice (as defined by me). I see other’s faults, not even recognizing the tree branch sticking out of my own eyes.

Maybe I’m being a little hard on myself. But maybe I’m not being hard enough. What I am convinced of is that Jesus’ presentation of the kingdom includes the reality that I will not make it. The summary of ‘be perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect’ doesn’t push me to greater heights of sanctification. It pushes me to my knees. I puts me on my belly.

I’m with Isaiah, who famously said “Woe is me! For I am lost. I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King…”

My eyes have seen the King. Glorious in mercy. Awesome in perfection. True and righteous all the way through. And His kingdom reflects his holy perfection.

And when I see my unworthiness, I see that there is just one message. That we are unworthy, unclean, unrighteous, unable. And yet God, in his great mercy, while we were dead, made us alive in Christ. Jesus loved us in this midst of this state that we are in… and by what he did, we are united to him, given righteousness, made to belong, adopted, put in the family, sealed with the Spirit, kept for heaven, admitted into the holy Kingdom where God rules.

We need to grow in wonder. That Jesus says how happy are the spiritually bankrupt, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. How Jesus came for sinners. How Jesus heals the sick, makes the blind see, cures the leper, conquers the demons, raises the dead.

Come, see what it means that God has a heart for mercy, not sacrifice.