Blessed are the frozen, who want to be chosen.
There was once a priest who arrived at his church very early on a bitterly cold Sunday morning. You know the kind of cold I mean, the kind that seeps into your bones. He went down to the parish hall and quickly discovered a crisis: the pipes were frozen. No water in the kitchen. No water in the bathrooms. And worse still, in less than an hour, there would be coffee hour. This was indeed a dilemma. So the priest did what he knew best. He went back into the sanctuary, knelt before the altar, and prayed:
“Dear Heavenly Father,
you turned water into wine.
You parted the Red Sea.
Surely you can thaw a few frozen pipes.”
He returned to the parish hall. Nothing.

So he went back to the sanctuary, got on his knees again, this time with a bit more intensity:
“O God, Creator of all wealth and mercy,
I have a vestry coming.
I have people expecting coffee.
I have people who need to use the restroom.
Could you give me a little help?”
He went back downstairs. Still frozen.

And then, at that very moment, the sexton arrived. He took a space heater, recognized exactly where the problem was, placed it right in front of the frozen section, and within ten minutes the pipes began to flow. At that moment the priest understood: the Lord does indeed work in mysterious ways. Prayer is central. But sometimes God brings someone into your life to create a little space for his warmth.
So let me ask you:
Is there space in your heart for God’s warmth?
For his love?
For his mercy?
Is there something frozen within you that needs to be thawed? Of course, I’m speaking allegorically. I’m talking about the spiritual sense, about what happens when we no longer allow God’s Spirit to flow freely through us.

Let’s go back in time. Nearly eight centuries before Christ, one of the twelve prophets, Micah, stood before God’s people. I imagine he, too, arrived early at his place of worship and looked around, only to discover that the people before him were frozen. Not physically frozen, spiritually frozen. In today’s passage from Micah, we hear a fascinating exchange. The prophet speaks God’s promise. Then he gives voice to what the people are thinking. And finally, he ends with a question.
God says:
“Rise, plead your case before the mountains,
and let the hills hear your voice.
Hear, you mountains, the controversy of the Lord,
and you enduring foundations of the earth;
for the Lord has a controversy with his people,
and he will contend with Israel.” [1]
What is the controversy?

God has already promised to lead them and care for them. But now they are surrounded by war. The Syrians are advancing. Villages are being destroyed. People are being taken. Young men have been lost. Resources are depleted. Fear is everywhere.
They prayed for deliverance, and it did not come in the way they expected. So God speaks:
“O my people, what have I done to you?
In what have I wearied you? Answer me!
For I brought you up from the land of Egypt…
I redeemed you…
Why don’t you trust me?”

But the people are exhausted. Their spiritual warmth has diminished. Their hearts have grown cold.
So they respond:
“With what shall I come before the Lord,
and bow myself before God on high?
Shall I come with burnt offerings?
With calves a year old?
Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams,
with ten thousands of rivers of oil?
Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression,
the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?”
Do you hear the anguish?
These are people whose hearts are frozen. They are hurting. They are desperate. They don’t know how to thaw what has become hardened inside them. They are asking for a miracle, but they don’t know where else to turn.

And that brings us to Jesus and the Beatitudes.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed are those who mourn.
Blessed are the meek.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness…” [2]

Could this be meant to parallel the Ten Commandments? There are nine Beatitudes, but we might wonder: where is the tenth? The commandments tell us what to do and what not to do. They reveal God’s law for our lives. And yet, as history shows, we break them. We place other gods before God. We neglect Sabbath. We fail to honor. We covet. We wound one another. Jesus comes into the world not to abolish the commandments, but to fulfill them, and to show us what happens when we fall short. The Beatitudes are not rewards for perfect people. They are blessings for broken people.

Jesus does not simply bless poverty or hunger. He blesses those who are poor in spirit. He blesses those who hunger for righteousness. In other words: What are you going to do about it? Will we try to bargain with God?
“I go to church every Sunday.”
“I give my percentage.”
“My pipes should be open.”

Or will we allow God’s Spirit to move freely through us, admitting that sometimes we don’t have the answers, and that we need help? Sometimes Jesus comes in the form of a sexton, carrying a space heater.
Sometimes healing doesn’t require the whole system to be replaced, just one frozen elbow, one hardened place, one guarded corner of the heart.

I know what it’s like to say to God, “Look at all I’ve done. I went to seminary. I became a priest. I gave my family to the Church.” And every time I do that, the ice gets tighter. I must remember: I am not living in accord with God when I keep score. I have to allow God to do his work. That means vulnerability.
That means letting someone else come in. That means allowing warmth where there has been cold.
Beloved, Christ came into this world to save sinners. Yes, we have been sinners. But we are not meant to remain hardened by our sin. God longs to warm the space of your soul. Will you let him?

If you do, then you will hear the Beatitudes spoken over you, even in your frozen places, for those who desire to be chosen.

[1] Micah 6:1-8
[2] Matthew 5:1-12