S2 Ep.25-The Mountain We Climb Together

What if God isn’t waiting for you at the summit, arms crossed, grading your climb? This week, I’d like to invite you to see the Sermon on the Mount the way Jesus first gave it: not as scattered rules, but as a single, steady map into a life shaped by love and held by grace. 

We start with a simple shift: instead of breaking Matthew 5 through 7 into separate “topics,” we listen for the one story underneath it all. The Beatitudes aren’t a spiritual warm-up, they’re the foundation. Grace comes before growth. Belonging comes before transformation. From there, the sermon turns like a diamond, revealing love from different angles: reconciliation as love repairing what anger breaks, prayer as love speaking honestly with God, generosity as love with open hands, forgiveness as love refusing to let resentment have the last word, and trust as love that believes tomorrow is in God’s hands. 

Then we talk community, because none of this is meant to be lived alone. You can’t be a peacemaker in isolation. You can’t forgive without someone to forgive. Even “Our Father” tells the truth that faith is shared. Church becomes less like a room of strangers who agree and more like a people learning to love together, helping one another carry burdens along the trail. 

Finally, we face the storms Jesus promises will come to every house and ask what it means to build on rock: not just knowing the right things, but letting mercy, humility, peacemaking, and courageous love become the ground beneath your feet. If this encourages you, subscribe, share it with a friend who needs company on the climb, and leave a review. What’s one small step toward love you can take today?

Let's Get Into It!!

Transcript

Welcome And Why The Pause

Speaker 0:07

Hello friends and welcome back to Ancient Truth for the Modern Heart. I'm Steve Pozzato, and as always, whether you are in your car or taking a walk, sitting still somewhere, enjoying the silence of the morning or the evening before bed, wherever you are this day, know that I am grateful that you are spending this time with me. And I hope that this episode brings you a little bit of joy and peace in your heart. Now, for the past few weeks, there hasn't been a podcast update, and of course, life has been very busy, but at the same time, I have recorded and re-recorded and re-recorded portions of podcasts about portions of the Sermon on the Mount as we were going to talk about this month. And continually I found something new which didn't invalidate what I had recorded, but made me feel as though there's something else I should be saying. And instead of making podcasts an

Read The Sermon As A Whole

Speaker 1:15

hour long, I prayed on it. And here's what I've come up with today. Rather than disassemble the Sermon on the Mount, I'd like to invite you to read it. It's in Matthew chapters 5 through 7. When it's spoken out loud, you can find it on YouTube. Um it is about 16 minutes long or so. And it's worth your time. And what I have found is for today, anyway, I'd like to talk about the Sermon on the Mount on the whole. How do we get to the mountain? How do we get to the top of the hill where Jesus is? Because he's giving us a map throughout this entire sermon on how to meet him, how and where, and in the ways that we can love and live our lives in that love, and know that we are loved and share it openly. And I'd like to begin this podcast episode talking about hiking.

Hiking The Mountain With Jesus

Speaker 2:20

And it occurs to me on all the hikes that I've been in in my life, uh, whether they were short hikes, long hikes, uphill, downhill, there is always some kind of mountain to climb. Whether that mountain is an actual mountain that I'm hiking up, or whether it is just the actual achievement of finishing the hike or a difficult hike. And I thought to myself, what do I think about when I climb a mountain? And when I climb a mountain, I don't spend the entire hike staring at the summit. I don't see the end of the path when I'm on a path that is not up the side of a mountain. Most of the time, when we hike, we're looking at the trail. We're watching our footing, we're talking with the people walking beside us if we have someone else there, stopping to catch our breath, pointing out a beautiful tree or taking a picture of something gorgeous that we don't want to miss. We're laughing about something that happened years ago. We might be helping one another up the rocky path or sharing a bottle of water, waiting for the person who's fallen a little behind. So, what we know is the end of the path, the mountain summit, certainly is the destination, but the journey is the thing that becomes the memory. And I sometimes wonder if that's exactly why Jesus preached the sermon on the mount on a hillside, a mountainside. Of course, certainly it's so his voice would carry to multitudes. That's the logistics side of it. But why speak there from that point, so everyone could see him, no matter where they stood? I mean, mountains aren't magical after all. They can be in our minds and in our hearts, but I don't think Jesus chose to speak from the top of a hillside because there was magic there. I think it's because mountains remind us that faith has always been a journey. That it's not a race or a test, but a journey. And journeys are rarely meant to be walked alone. And I think that's a beautiful gesture, if that's the case. When Matthew tells us that Jesus went up the mountain, his listeners immediately would have remembered another mountain and another teacher, right? Of course, we're talking about Moses here. And Moses climbed a mountain and returned carrying stone tablets. Jesus climbs a mountain, and the first thing he brings isn't law. If you listen to the episode that came out a few weeks back, it's blessing, right? Blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed are those who mourn, and blessed are the meek. And as I said, I've always loved that because before Jesus ever asks us to walk a different path and transform the love in our hearts, he reminds us that God already sees us. The first words of the greatest sermon ever preached are not try harder, they are blessed be. Grace comes before growth. Love comes before instruction. Belonging comes before transformation. And I think transformation, and I think that's important, um, because so many of us have quietly come to believe that God waits for us at the finish line. You know, get your life together and then come and see me. But Jesus begins somewhere entirely different. He meets people at the trailhead, exactly where they are. And as we keep walking up the mountain with Jesus, something begins to happen. We realize he isn't giving us a collection of disconnected lessons, but he is rather telling us one story. Sometimes when we read Matthew chapters 5 through 7, we naturally break it into pieces. Today we'll talk about anger. Tomorrow we'll talk about prayer. Next week we'll talk about worry and then generosity and forgiveness and then judging others. And those are helpful ways to study the scripture. And I think this is where I've run into an issue over the past few weeks is which lessons do I talk about? Which of the parts of the sermon do I find that I'm resonating with more today? And that's difficult because there are so many. And

One Sermon One Story Of Love

Speaker 7:05

I was wondering that if I focused on one or two things, or even if Jesus had focused on one or two things, that might cause us to miss something beautiful. And so Jesus takes his time. There are lessons in that. Perhaps the lesson is don't be so quick to speak until you are ready to say everything you're thinking. And what if every one of those teachings is really describing the same thing from a different angle? I mean, think about a diamond. You turn it one way and the light catches one facet, and you turn it again and the other side shines. The diamond itself hasn't changed, only our perspective has. And I think maybe that's what Jesus is doing. The Beatitudes are love with open eyes, and salt and light are love made visible. Reconciliation is love repairing what anger has broken. Prayer is love speaking honestly with God. Generosity is love with open hands. Forgiveness is love refusing to let resentment have the final word. Trust is love that believes tomorrow is held in God's hand. And building upon a rock is love that remains standing when life becomes difficult. It's all love. The entire sermon is one magnificent invitation into the life God has always dreamed for humanity, I think. And sometimes I imagine the disciples listening to Jesus that day as students. I doubt they understood everything, and honestly, I'm not sure that I would have either. Imagine hearing someone say, Love your enemies. Really? Or blessed are the meek. Well, that doesn't sound like the world that I'm familiar with, or don't worry about tomorrow. If you're trying to feed your family, that's easier said than done. And the more I think about it, the more I realize Jesus wasn't describing the world as it already was, he was describing the world as God longs for it to become. And that is an important distinction. The Sermon on the Mount is not naive. Jesus knows exactly how broken the world is. He has seen people rejected because of who they are or where they came from? Jesus isn't pretending that those things don't exist, he's asking a different question. What kind of people will God's love shape in us in the middle of all of that? Will anger become compassion? Will revenge become reconciliation? Will fear become trust? Will judgment become mercy? Will loneliness become community? And that last one I think has been on my heart lately. Community. Because I don't think Jesus intended for anyone to live the Sermon on the Mount by themselves. And in fact, I almost every sentence assumes that there are other people around willing to help on the journey. You cannot be a peacemaker by yourself. You cannot forgive by yourself. You cannot reconcile by yourself. You cannot love your neighbor if there is no neighbor. You can't love your enemies unless there are people who challenge you. And even prayer begins: our father, not my father. Our. And from the very beginning,

Faith As Community Not Solo

Speaker 10:55

Jesus reminds us that faith is something that we share. Sometimes, I think we have unintentionally turned Christianity into a solitary project, sometimes, right? My faith, my relationship with God, my spiritual life. And those things matter, but Jesus almost always points us back toward one another, right? Our faith is made more whole in community together. And that doesn't mean that if you prefer solitude, that that is wrong. But what it means is that there are people out there and that Jesus is always listening and always speaking. So we are never truly alone. The church was never meant to be a room full of strangers who happen to believe the same things. The church is a people learning how to love together as a faith community, I believe. That it does not matter if we all believe the same thing, exactly the same way. We all come from different backgrounds and different faith traditions in many of our churches. We may not know the same words as one another, we may not know the same prayers as one another. We may not come from the same faith tradition. And sometimes when we walk into a new church, we find the same Christianity that we have known and loved seems somehow different. And that can be unsettling, that can be beautiful, it can be a lot of things, but what it is is community. The church is people learning how to love together. And in some ways, it's almost like making a promise that we will help guide one another through love. You and me. And some days we do that beautifully, other days we need grace. And thankfully for us, Jesus has plenty of that. And maybe that's one of the greatest gifts of the mountain altogether. No one reaches the summit because they are the strongest. We arrive because somewhere along the trail, someone waited for us when our legs were tired. Someone encouraged us when we felt we couldn't make it. Maybe someone believed in us when we couldn't believe in ourselves. Someone prayed for us, forgave us, taught us, welcomed us. Someone made room for us at the table. And if we're paying attention, we begin to realize that in each of those moments Christ was quietly walking beside us all along. Sometimes wearing the face of a friend or a parent, a teacher, a pastor, a therapist who patiently waited and helped us to carry burdens that had become too heavy, a physician who helped bring healing to our bodies and minds. And sometimes someone whose life's work is justice, standing beside those who have been wounded and reminding them that they matter. And these are not interruptions to God's work. I think they are often God's work itself. One of the most beautiful truths of the gospel is that God delights in healing people through other people. Just as Simon of Cyrene helped carry Jesus carry the cross, we are continually invited to help carry one another's burdens. And when we do, we discover something remarkable. The mountain doesn't become easier because the trail changes, the mountain becomes lighter because love is multiplied. And that's what I think Jesus wanted his disciples to see. Not that following him would eliminate every hardship, but that no hardship would ever have to be carried alone. And as we get to the end of the Sermon on the Mount, as we read through this thing, Jesus tells one final story, and it's a story that we have heard since we were children. Two people build houses. One builds on sand, the other builds on rock, and then the storms come and the rain falls, and the rivers rise, and the wind beats against both houses. And there's something interesting about that story, too. It's that Jesus never says that one house avoids the storm. That's important. Sometimes without meaning to, we can begin believing that faith is supposed to protect us from life's hardships. We pray faithfully, we love sincerely, and we try to do the right thing, right? And somewhere along the way, we quietly begin to expect that life should become easier. But Jesus never promises an easier life. He promises a faithful companion. Every single house experiences the storm. Every single life encounters grief, loss, disappointment, illness, broken relationships, questions without easy answers. None of us gets to escape being human. Not even Jesus. So if the storm isn't the difference, then what is? It's the foundation. And that's where I think we've often stood questioning the story. I've heard it preached as though Jesus is saying, believe the correct things in your house will stand. And certainly what we believe matters, but notice what Jesus actually says. In other words, the foundation isn't simply information, it can be transformation too. It's allowing the love of God to become the shape of our lives, because that's what the Sermon on the Mount has been about from the very beginning. From the very, very beginning, the Beatitudes are not random blessings. They're the foundation. Mercy is part of the foundation. Peacemaking is part of the foundation. Humility, prayer, forgiveness, trust, all parts of the foundation. And love, even for those who are difficult to love, is part of the foundation. Every act of compassion becomes another stone beneath our feet. Every act of mercy strengthens the ground beneath us. Every time we forgive instead of retaliate, every time we listen instead of judge, every time we choose kindness over cruelty, another stone set into place. And not because we're earning God's love, but because we're learning to live within it. And maybe, just maybe, that's what building the rock and building on top of the rock has always meant. The foundation and then the house. Learning to build our lives upon the love that has already been given to us. And you know, I I'm thinking back now to where we began today on the mountain trail. If you've ever hiked with friends, you know something beautiful happens by the end of the day. You don't remember every step, you remember the people and the conversations and the laughter and the person who offered you water when yours ran out, the person who reached back a hand across a steep section of trail. You remember waiting for someone whose knees are beginning to ache, and you remember someone waiting for you. And I wonder if that's not exactly what discipleship is. I think it might be. It's not about climbing the fastest or arriving first, and it's not even pretending that

Storms Come For Every House

Speaker 18:55

we never become tired, but it's about walking together, helping each other over the rocks, sharing the weight when somebody's backpack has become too heavy, stopping when someone needs to catch their breath, celebrating when someone discovers hope again, and the older I become, the more convinced I am that the Christian life isn't about becoming impressive. It's about becoming present. Present with God, present with one another, present enough to notice the person who is quietly struggling, present enough to celebrate someone else's joy, present enough to say you don't have to carry this alone. And maybe that's why Jesus never simply gathered followers, he gathered friends, a community, a family, people who would misunderstand him, and people who would sometimes argue, people who would fail, people who would deny him, people who would run away, and still he loved them. He broke bread with them and walked with them and called them back. And if that's how Jesus treated his disciples, perhaps that's how we are called to treat one another. We're not expecting perfection, but we're practicing grace, and we're not demanding that everyone walks at our pace. We are simply making sure that no one walks alone. Friends, I believe that's the kindness of the Sermon on the Mount. It isn't a mountainside of impossible expectations. It is a mountain where Jesus sits down beside ordinary people and says, Come, let's learn another way to be human. Let's learn another way to see each other. Let's learn another way to carry the burdens of the world, and let's learn yet another way to love. And the remarkable thing is, he never asks us to make that journey alone. Christ, as a good shepherd does, walks ahead of us, showing us the path. The Holy Spirit walks within us, giving us strength when our strength is gone, and all around us are companions God has lovingly placed in our lives. Parents, children, friends, teachers, pastors, therapists, doctors, neighbors, mentors, those who work for justice, those who comfort the grieving, those who welcome the stranger, those who quietly remind us that hope is never lost. All of them become signs of God's presence along the trail, and all of them in their own way help us to keep walking. And maybe that's the invitation of the mountain. Not to become perfect people, but to become people who help one another become more loving, one conversation at a time, one act of mercy at a time, one burden shared at a time, one step at a time. Until one day we look around and we realize something. Beautiful. The mountain we thought we were climbing has become home. And my friends, there's one last thing I'd like to address. Today, anyway. And that is the idea of being perfect as God is perfect. That's a hard one because sometimes it's taught that you must live a life of perfection, of righteousness in order to somehow gain access to his love. I don't believe that's what Jesus is saying. I think what he was saying is that if you live in this type of love every day, if you do one loving thing, a prayer, a conversation, a phone call, giving someone a ride, helping somebody out, whatever it is, if you do that every day, if you live your life in your heart trying to love and be there for other people, trying to be there with Jesus, trying to give yourself grace as living a life in love. And every day you become

Perfection As Daily Love

Speaker 23:10

that much closer to Christ than on the last day that you live, on the day that you go to meet Him, on that glorious day in that moment, you will never be more perfect than you are right then. You will never be closer to Christ as a human as you are right then. And all it takes is love, a gift you already have. Would you pray with me? Gracious and loving God, thank you for meeting us at the beginning of the trail, not waiting for us at its summit. Thank you for blessing us before we ever understood how to follow you. Thank you for walking beside us when the path becomes steep, for lifting us when we struggle and for never leaving us alone on this journey. We thank you for every person through whom your love has found us. Help us to become that person for someone else. Teach us to be peacemakers, teach us to be merciful, teach us to seek justice with compassion, to forgive without abandoning wisdom, and to love without losing courage. And when the storm of life arrives, remind us that our hope has never rested in our own strengths, but in the steadfast love of Christ, the rock upon whom we stand. May our lives become places where others discover your welcome. May our words bring healing. May our hands carry hope, and may every step we take together lead us ever closer to your heart. We ask this in the name of Jesus Christ, who first loved us and who still walks beside us. Amen. My friends, thank you for walking this mountain with me today. And until next time, remember this. You do not have to climb alone. Christ is with you, the Spirit is within you, the church is beside you, and every step toward love is already a step toward the kingdom of God. And if every step contains the love of

Prayer And Farewell

Speaker 25:45

God and we carry it, then there will we go in peace. Grace and peace, my friends. I am going to record the entire Sermon on the Mount, and that will be up on Wednesday this week. I believe that will be July 29th. And I will see you next Sunday as well for another episode of the podcast. So, my friends, it's not the summit, it's the walk up the side. Together. Until next time, be well and farewell. Take care.