Matthew 5:21-37 "HeartSong"

         Valentine’s Day:  Maybe you bought a cute or funny card or incredibly romantic one for the person you love – be it spouse, partner, parent, or child.   Maybe you arranged to have flowers – a dozen red roses or a springtime bouquet - delivered.  Perhaps you celebrated the role of love in your life by going out for a candlelight dinner or by feasting on a special meal at home.  If you were really lucky, the one you love gave you delicious chocolate truffles – that is what Joe did. 

         But that was Valentine’s Day.  That was Friday.  This is Sunday, and today we are sitting here in church about to reflect on anger, adultery, divorce, and the swearing of oaths.  It hardly seems like an appropriate follow up to the Day of Love.

         Oh, that Jesus!  What was he thinking as we move ever more deeply into the Sermon on the Mount?  He said in the passage we read just last week that he had not come to do away with the Jewish laws handed down by Moses, but rather to fulfill them – whatever that means.  Beef them up a bit perhaps?  Make us inwardly squirm?

         After all, as we read this passage, it seems that he has become awfully nitpicky.  You see, Jesus covers in just a few verses a wide range of topics that are predestined to make us feel really uncomfortable: murder, anger, adultery, lust, divorce, swearing. 

         Though some people have thought that, in this passage, he is contradicting the Jewish laws, how could that be so?  After all, Jesus was a good Jew himself, and we have no evidence that he had any intention of being otherwise. 

         However, certainly what Jesus is saying is going to really rile up the temple Pharisees.  After all, he takes a bunch of straightforward and clear rules and challenges anyone who was listening (maybe even us?) to recalibrate those moral compasses.

         What is Jesus trying to do here? Is he attempting to “out-Pharisee” the Pharisees by showing us that we can never uphold all of the law’s demands?  After all, it was that group of religious elites who interpreted these rules and regulations in the first place with all their tedious and hairsplitting requirements.  Or is he telling us that we should be taking these laws far more seriously than we ever imagined we would have to? 

         Listen to what he is saying as he goes into his singsong “You have heard it said” countered with “But I say to you,” a cadence he uses for just about every single one of these topics. You have heard it said – don’t murder.  But I say to you – don’t even get angry.  You have heard it said – don’t commit adultery.  But I say to you – don’t even look at another man’s wife and fantasize what might be. 

         And that is only some of it!  There are his words about oaths – let your yes simply be yes and your no be no.  And, of course, he really stirs the pot in our times when he speaks about divorce.  And it is these words about that topic that, down through the centuries, have perhaps inflicted more pain and heaped up more guilt and burdened women and men alike with a greater sense of alienation than just about any other verses in the Bible.  What are we to make of this Jesus who speaks to us this morning?

         Methodist pastor William Willimon tells the story of a woman who came to a church he served. One day in a small group, people were telling their own stories of Jesus – testimonies in a way, I guess. One man said he was feeling confused about his life, but Jesus had helped him work things out. A woman said she felt Jesus near her when she sang in the choir.

         Then another woman started talking. She said, “Look, I don’t know what kind of Jesus you all met, but my life was going along just fine before he showed up. I wasn’t looking for anything.

         And now, now I’ve lost control of my whole life. I’ve been to Haiti twice to do mission work. I never wanted to go to Haiti. I think all the time about how I’m spending my time and my money. Before you go telling people they should be getting close to Jesus, you should warn them. He’ll mess things up.”

         And yes, the woman is right.  If we take it seriously, the Gospel message of Jesus will mess us up because Jesus is perfectly capable of turning our world and our lives upside down and inside out – but not in the way we might think – not by burdening us with the specter of microscopic legal infractions of laws we do not understand in the first place, but rather by freeing us to catch a glimpse of God’s dream and passion for the world. 

         In these troubling verses we just read, what if Jesus is inviting us to see the Jewish law as a doorway through which we might step to experience the Kingdom of God? Episcopal priest Roy Almquist puts it this way:  “I would challenge you to think about the law of God not in terms of doing a certain number of impossible things before breakfast, but in terms of being in the right relationship … with God and with those around us. It is not about your need to do the right thing, color within the lines, keep your nose clean; no, it is about loving your neighbor, controlling your anger, modifying your drives for personal fulfillment, all to the end that you might be an instrument for deepening and strengthening the community in which you live.”

         Jesus is asking us to take a good look at what is going on in our hearts.  He is making the point that our “heartsong” is what is important.  You see, it is in our hearts that the bonds between us and the rest of humanity as well as the bonds between the Holy One and us are forged.  What if this passage then is less about legalism and more about relationships, relationships that lie at the very foundation of community?

         As Episcopal priest David Sellery wrote, “Jesus is quick to tell us that he has not come to contradict the law. Rather he is here to give us a fresh perspective on God’s law... Instead of governing our lives by constant reference to an encyclopedic canon of regulations, he would have us look for God’s love in all things…In Christ, our focus shifts from the dos and don’ts, to actively witnessing his love, looking not only to the letter of the law, but to the spirit of the Lord. What would he do? What would he have us do?”

         This passage is about strengthening our relationship with God and with one another. As he deals with these tough topics, Jesus is reminding us that we do not live in isolation from each other.  There is always a neighbor.  There is always a “you” at the end of our thoughts.  There is always a “you” in our sphere of vision.  There is always a “you” at the conclusion of every action we take.

         And so, as Presbyterian pastor Mary Harris Todd reminds us, “The way we look at others truly matters, for behavior starts in the heart, in the way we regard the other person.  It’s not enough to refrain from murder.  Regarding others with contempt, scorning them, nursing anger against them, speaking of them using insulting terminology (we even call it ‘stabbing someone in the back’) is deadly serious in Jesus’ view…That is a “you,” a human being, a person, a neighbor you are speaking about.”

         What’s more, it’s not enough not to technically commit adultery.  That woman whose body you want to possess, that is a “you,” a human being, a person, a neighbor.”

         And, of course, Jesus also talks about divorce, and that has been such a stickler for so many of us: that somehow we are a flawed and failed human being if our marriage, flawed as it might have been, has failed.  So let’s take just a moment to better understand what Jesus had in mind when he spoke these verses about divorce. 

         In the patriarchal society in which Jesus lived, men had the upper hand, and it was exemplified perhaps best when it came to divorce.  As Mary Harris Todd explains, “If you think divorce is easy now, then it was a piece of cake, for men, anyway.  For just about any reason men could draw up a statement of divorce, sign it in the presence of witnesses, and that was it.  The ex-wife is out on the street.  Women, being considered property, had no possibility of divorce.  Too bad if your husband beats you.  You’re stuck.  ‘No!’ declared Jesus, ‘Women and wives are not objects!’”  You cannot put your wife out with the trash.

         I believe that, in the end, this passage is pointed at people who grow tired of being married, their lives too constrained with those little rug rats running around, who never (if they had given it an iota of serious thought) really intended to make the relationship work in the tough times. 

This passage is pointed at the deadbeats, the self-involved, the lazy, the ones who do not want to try, the ones who when push came to shove really were not looking for a relationship that would last for as long as we both shall live.  Is divorce wrong?  Jesus does not say that, but I think he does say that marriage is a very important matter of the heart.

         It is all about relationships, about how you interact with the other.  It is all about your “heartsong.”  One of the great dangers in being a Christian, you know, can be the inclination to get so caught up in keeping the letter of the law in order to keep your own nose clean in the apparent sight of God that you forget about your neighbor, the one you are called to serve.  And when you do, you do not hear your “heartsong.”

         Jesus’ teaching in these difficult verses is direct, to the point, and very, very challenging.  He calls us to reflect on our own lives, on our attitudes and value system, on what is going on in our own hearts.  And that is not easy.  Self-examination seldom is.  So what do we do with these hard words of Jesus?  Give up because we can never attain such an ideal? 

         No – rather than give up, let’s embrace these opportunities to glimpse the world as God dreams it can be, and let’s walk through the doorway of the Law.  Because if we do, there we will find that Jesus himself beckons us as he reorders the world and challenges us to break open our hearts and listen to our heartsong,

         And in the notes of that song, he assures us, we will find a new way of living, a kingdom so to speak, and a God who loves us, who has promised to embrace us and heal us even as we reach out to embrace and to heal those around us.

by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church (U.C.C.)

                  

Matthew 5:13-20 "On Salt, Light.....and Ketchup?"

         Come with me now to the Fitzgerald Theater in St. Paul, Minnesota, the home stage and studio of “A Prairie Home Companion.”  Deep into the weekly radio show, Garrison Keillor, the longtime host and writer, directs us to a public service announcement from the Ketchup Advisory Board:  “These are the good years, for Jim and Barb (it will begin). Except for the crushing depression of winter, and the terrible memories of childhood…”

         Now, if Garrison Keillor were to be responsible for the metaphors in the portion of the Sermon on the Mount that we just read, he probably would have chosen different ones. Actually, I think he would have chosen ketchup. 

         After all, as the script tells us each week, “ketchup contains natural mellowing agents that help people….relax and not be jerks…

“These are the good times”, (the concluding jingle begins)

“Life is flowing….Like ketchup on hot dogs….Ketchup, for the good times.”

        

         However, we all know that Garrison Keillor did not select the metaphors used in the Sermon on the Mount.  Jesus did – and Jesus did not choose ketchup - or mayo – or any processed food for that matter. 

         Jesus chose salt – and then he chose light – in order to express to his disciples just what it meant to be follow him and just what he expected of those who had made a commitment to live the dream and passion of God about which he preached and taught.

         And so Jesus, rather than saying “You are the ketchup on cheese curds” said instead: “You are the salt of the earth.”  “You are the light of the world.”

         Just as ketchup is a powerful metaphor for Jim and Barb on “A Prairie Home Companion”, so the phrases that Jesus chose were equally as powerful to Peter, Andrew, James, John, and the other disciples.  Let’s look at these metaphors a bit more closely.

         So, first off, then, why salt? After all, today we live with salt as close as the nearest shaker on the dining room table.  In fact, modern medicine tells us that most people consume too much salt and consequently are significantly more susceptible to cardiovascular disease, the leading cause of death worldwide, not to mention being at an increased risk for stroke, heart failure, osteoporosis, stomach cancer, and kidney disease. 

         On a more optimistic note, if you were to ask Mark Kulansky, author of the popular book entitled Salt:  A World History, he would tell you that salt has done no less than “shape civilization.”  Salt has influenced wars, cultures, governments, religions, societies, economies, cooking, and foods. 

         Salt has been a staple in human culture going back to the ancient Chinese, who gathered salt as early as 6000 years BCE, right up through Biblical times and beyond.  Trade routes were established in order to transport salt, and salt was even used as currency. 

         In Jesus’ time, Roman soldiers were sometimes paid in salt.  In fact, the Latin word for “salt” is the root of our English word “salary”.  It is also the origin of the expression “He’s worth his salt” or “He’s earning his salt.”

         No doubt about it, salt has a well-documented history as a precious commodity.  Equally well established is the fact that salt was used to flavor and preserve food.  People of means regularly sprinkled salt on their vegies and potatoes, and even the poor knew that rubbing meat with salt or curing it in a salt water brine would keep it from going bad. And, speaking of food, at great banquets, a distinction was made between those who sat above or below the salt on the table. 

         But not only that: Salt took on significant spiritual connotations as well. We know from Old Testament references that the Israelites covered their sacrifices in salt as a sign of the eternal nature and preservation of the covenant between God and God’s people.  Homer called salt a “divine substance” while Plato described it as especially near to the gods.

         Pretty impressive!  And yet, even with all this auspicious history of salt going back thousands of years, Jesus announced to the ragtag group of fishermen and “least of these” who became his first followers:  “You are the salt of the earth.”

         The same could be said for the metaphor of light. Now, it was not all that long ago that even we were dependent on natural light – the light from the sun.  Here in Maine, rural areas were not dependably electrified until the mid-1930’s.  When the sun went down, the workday was over. 

And candles rather than light bulbs once lit these very chandeliers here in our sanctuary.

         Now, during the ice storm in 1998, we lived in Cumberland and lost power for 4 days.  I do not know what it was like here in Raymond, but I learned then to what extent I relied on light – be it from a lamp or a computer screen or even an alarm clock. 

         In Jesus’ time, light had already taken on a spiritual significance as well. The prophet Isaiah used the image of light to offer hope to the Israelites exiled to Babylon. “Arise, shine, for your light has come” he proclaimed. 

         And remember the parable Jesus told about the bridesmaids who were not prepared because they did not have enough oil in their lamps to keep them lit and ward off the darkness? Likewise, the Apostle Paul drew on the image of light by referring to followers of Jesus as “children of the light.”  And the Gospel writer of John labels Jesus himself as the “Light of the World”. 

         Once again, awfully impressive!  And yet, identical to the image of salt, even with all this auspicious history of light going back thousands of years, Jesus said to the ragtag group of fishermen and “least of these” who became his first followers: “You are the light of the world.”

         Now, to really understand the significance of Jesus’ statements here, you must realize that these metaphors of salt and light directly follow the Beatitudes or blessings that we talked about last week.  The people that Jesus blessed – the poor in spirit, the meek, the peacemakers– these are the ones he is speaking to now. The ones in pain, the hurting ones, the gentle ones, the ones like us - these are the ones whom he proclaims as the salt of the earth and the light of the world. 

         These phrases are not demands to be something we are not.  Jesus is not telling us that we need to get something we do not yet have.  As Episcopal priest Michael Marsh reminds us, Jesus “does not say we should become salt. He says we already are salt. He does not say we are to become light. He says we already are light. We already are what we need to be. We already have all that we need.”

         Christian author Max Lucado puts it this way:  “This statement about salt and light is a reminder that whatever we are and whatever we do, as people of God, that's what the world gets… That's what the world gets to know about who God is.

         Collectively if we don't do what we're invited to do, what we're called to do, what we're made to do… it's not like there are a ton of others out there who are going to do it… You are what the world will know of God's reign… You are the salt of the earth and you are the light of the world.”

         That being said, these metaphors of salt and light are not for the faint of heart, to be sure, and they leave us with a fundamental question to answer.  Are we – you and I – ready to take on being the salt of the earth and the light of the world?  Will it be through us and because of our actions that the world will know of the reign of God? Will it be through us and because of our actions that the world will understand the reality of God’s love?

         Tough questions, but we have it in us, you know.  Jesus has declared it so in these verses tucked away in all this sermon material. We are the salt of the earth, he proclaims.  We are the light of the world.  God has put the finger on us and works through us – even in spite of ourselves sometimes.

         We are certainly called as individuals to be as salt and light, but we are also called as a faith community.  We are called as the church because being salt and light is what the church is all about, what this church should be all about. It is a high and worthy calling we are engaged in, you and I. 

         Presbyterian pastor Frederick Buechner puts it this way.  “Jesus calls us to show this truth forth, live this truth forth. Be the light of the world, he says. Where there are dark places, be the light especially there. Be the salt of the earth. Bring out the true flavor of what it is to be alive truly. Be truly alive. Be life-givers to others. 

         That is what Jesus tells the disciples to be. That is what Jesus tells his church, tells us, to be and do. Love each other. Heal the sick, he says. Raise the dead. Cleanse lepers. Cast out demons.

         That is what loving each other means. If the church is doing things like that, then it is being what Jesus told it to be. If it is not doing things like that - no matter how many other good and useful things it may be doing instead - then it is not being what Jesus told it to be. It is as simple as that.”  Be salt.  Be light.     

         Jesus tells us not to lose our flavor as we strive to be the salt of the earth.  Losing its saltiness is something that could happen to salt in Jesus’ day, you know.  Impurities invaded natural salt, and water could wash it away, diluting is effectiveness. 

         Perhaps Jesus then is reminding us that we too as the church will be urged in more ways than Sunday to blend in with our culture and to compromise our commitment to the Gospel.  Maintaining our saltiness is not easy in this day and age.  As I said, these labels of salt and light that we have taken on are not for anyone who is content to be a Sunday morning only sort of Christian.

         Jesus tells us also not to hide our light under a big old bushel basket. Obviously, the light is hidden then, and the surrounding area thrown into darkness.  Perhaps Jesus is reminding us that we too as the church need to be constantly asking ourselves whether his light - the light of Christ - is in fact shining through our ministries – or whether the four walls of this sanctuary are more like the big old bushel basket.

         "One night at the end of a special Saturday night worship service," writes Warren Hudson of Ontario, Canada, "a thunderstorm unleashed a bolt of lightning that plunged the church into darkness." With the congregation seated in total darkness, the pastor felt his way to the kitchen to find some candles. Everyone lit his or her candle just like on Christmas Eve, and then they all made their way through the church's winding hallways to the front door.

         "Peering out, we could see the rain coming down in sheets," Warren remembers. With traffic snarled, people were running for the nearest shelter. Looking around, they realized that the entire city was in darkness.

         "There in the darkness we stood," Warren writes, "a little band of Christians, each clutching a light, not sure whether to venture out into the storm or stay inside the church in hopes that the storm would soon blow over."

         There in the darkness, in this most dramatic way, he realized what it meant to be the "light of the world." Warren writes, "It occurred to me then that this is the temptation I face every day. It is easy to play it safe and be a good Christian in church. It is a lot harder to venture out in faith into the storms of the world."

         But Jesus is telling us: Venture out.  Be authentic.  Be true to who you as individuals and you as the church have been called to be. Be salt, and be light. Sound a bit overwhelming?

         Just remember that you – each one of you - is a precious commodity.  You – each one of you - is like a beacon in the darkness.  Live faithfully – each one of you - as a sign of God’s presence in this world.  Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.  Why?  Because you are a follower of Jesus and that is what you called to do.  Why?  Because you are the salt of the earth and the light of the world.

         I am going to play you a song from “Godspell” now, one that always comes to mind when I read this passage.

GODSPELL – YOU ARE THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD

         This past week I was reading about one man’s remembrances of a church performance of that Broadway musical.  Here is what he wrote:  “’You are the light of the world,’ we all sang as our Jesus went out into the audience. He grabbed someone and had him stand up so we could all sing to that particular one, ‘You are the salt of the earth.’ Then quickly to another person he dashed. He got her to stand up so we could point to her and sing, ‘You are the city of God.’

         “It was the last song before intermission,” he continued. “We left the sanctuary rocking (but only half as much as we did singing the beautiful refrain at the conclusion of the performance): ‘We can build a beautiful city, yes we can. Yes we can. We can build a beautiful city. Not a city of angels, but finally a city of man.’”

         Build a city?  A beautiful city that offers glimpses of the Kingdom of God?  Us?  Yes, YOU!  Because YOU are the salt of the earth.  YOU are the light of the world. 

by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church U.C.C.

        

          

Matthew 5:1-12 "Blessed Are YOU"

         “Blessed are you,” Jesus says in these verses from the Gospel of Matthew that we just read, verses that perhaps ring a bell with many people (though certainly not all) who sit in churches on Sunday mornings.  Blessed are you who are poor, Jesus declares, or who mourn, or are meek.  Blessed are you when you hunger and thirst.  Blessed are you when you are merciful, pure in heart, a peacemaker.  Blessed are you when you are
persecuted, reviled, and slandered, when evil overwhelms you.  Blessed are you, he proclaims.  Rejoice and be glad!

         Come on.  Let’s be honest here.  These are not the sorts of blessings we want or would go out of our way to experience.  These are more like circumstances we would hope to avoid.  Poverty?  Mourning?  Hungering and thirsting?  And what about persecution?  Slander?  Being tripped up by evil and falling flat on your face?  If we acknowledged those attributes as things we ought to aspire to, our culture warriors would be accusing us of aiding and abetting the “wussification of America.”  Where is true manliness in all this claptrap?

          Blessed are you?  Rejoice and be glad?  Who wants any of that?  If we do not watch out, we will find ourselves sitting on top of a dung heap comparing our sores and boils with Job himself.  I mean, really, when we want blessings, surely we are angling for something else.   One writer, who identifies himself only as Thomas H, puts it this way. 

         “Who are the ones we as people regard as the lucky ones? The fortunate, the blessed ones? What do we think of? We tend to think of those with money. They can afford to live the way they want. They never have to worry about paying their bills. If they want something, they can have it. We think of those who can afford a nice home, a nice car. When they travel they fly at the front of the plane and not in cattle class. And who can afford whatever their heart’s desire is.

         We don’t just think of the rich though. We think of the beautiful, those who are so attractive. Everyone wants to be with them. If (he is) an attractive guy, (he) can get whatever girl (he wants). And vice versa. The attractive woman gets the guy she wants. We can envy the beautiful people.

         We also think of the powerful. Those who have access to privilege and status. And of course, these things often go together. The rich, beautiful, powerful people. The fortunate ones, the lucky ones, the blessed ones. People like pop stars, movie stars, sports stars. Who wouldn’t want to be Michael Jordan…Taylor Swift, or Justin Bieber?  (Well, maybe not Justin Bieber these days.).

         Who of us hasn’t wondered why we haven’t got the lucky breaks they have? Now even if we don’t go looking at famous names, who of us wouldn’t wish to be more beautiful, richer and more powerful than we are now?”

         But poor, sad, persecuted?  Blessed is that sort of person?  Rejoice and be glad if you are one of those beleaguered men or women?  Jesus seems to be turning good old-fashioned rational logic upside down and inside out.  Whatever did he have in mind when he spouted these little nuggets that we have come to call the Beatitudes?

         Let’s look first at where these so-called blessings occur in the Gospel of Matthew.  They come at the beginning of three chapters worth of sayings, one liners, and short pithy descriptions of the kingdom of heaven that the Gospel writer lumps all together in something we have come to call the Sermon on the Mount. 

          However, it was not a real sermon like the ones you sit through here every Sunday.  That is, Jesus did not preach these three chapters all at once on a single occasion.  After all, that would have taken way longer than the God-proscribed 20 minute time limit on sermon length. 

         No – the Gospel writer came across these sayings and teachings – most likely from a source Biblical scholars simply call “Q” (a source that the Gospel writer of Luke also had access to).  Then the author put them in the order that he thought best, and included them in his narrative about the life of Jesus.  The Beatitudes then begin the first of five major blocks of Jesus’ teaching in this Gospel of Matthew.

         There are eight beatitudes or blessings that the Gospel writer includes:    

Blessed are the poor in spirit, those people who are broken and hopeless.

Blessed are those who mourn, those men and women who have suffered loss and know the empty feeling that always follows.

Blessed are the meek, those folks who stay in the background and who will not use power as a tool to make things happen.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice, those sorry souls who will keep slogging along until everyone is slogging along together.

Blessed are the merciful, those bleeding hearts who go out of their way to improve the lot of others.

Blessed are the pure in heart, those crazy sorts who keep doing things like eating with whomever will share a meal with them – even tax collectors or prostitutes – knowing full well that they too will be seen as ritually impure in the eyes of the religious elite.

Blessed are the peacemakers, those persons who put themselves in the middle of conflict, instinctively knowing that life is meant to be lived in harmony.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of justice, those misguided human beings who just will not give up their quest for global dignity and wholeness.

         There are two ways we can interpret these Beatitudes and take them to heart, you know.  The first way is pretty scary if you ask me – and that is to understand the Beatitudes as proverbs, that is, as Quaker minister Timothy Henry noted, a set of “God-ordered truth that is helpful and useful as a general rule.”

         Using this interpretation as our guide, we fall into a terrible trap because we end up figuring that these beatitudes are conditions for being blessed.  As Lutheran pastor David Lose writes, “When I hear the Beatitudes, it's hard for me not to hear Jesus as stating the terms under which I might be blessed. For instance, when I hear "Blessed are the pure in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven," I tend to think, "Am I pure enough in spirit?" or "I should try to be more pure in spirit." Or, when I hear "blessed are the peacemakers...," I think, "Yes, I really should be more committed to making peace."

         At least with "blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted," I have the assurance of knowing that on those occasions when I am mourning I will be comforted. But, to be perfectly honest -- and if you'll pardon the pun -- that's relatively small comfort because the truth is I don't want to mourn, and hearing this beatitude doesn't make me any more eager for additional mourning. (Ditto for being persecuted!).”  Understood this way, the Beatitudes are a shopping list for how to get on God’s good side.

         Not very encouraging, I would say, so let’s look at them in another way.  First though, we need to recall where these Beatitudes come in the Gospel narrative.  Remember? They occur at the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount.  As preaching professor Fred Craddock reminds us, they come “before a single instruction is given, before there has been time for obedience or disobedience. If the blessings were only for the deserving, very likely they would be stated at the end of the sermon, probably prefaced with the conditional clause, "If you have done all these things."  What comes first, always, is God’s grace.

         I think if we interpret these Beatitudes differently and, I would say, in the way they were intended when Jesus spoke them, we will find them far more satisfying rather than scary. And so I pose this question for you to ponder:  What if these Beatitudes really are blessings, just blessings?   

         What if Jesus is just blessing the victims gathered about him (and I would say that includes all of us at one time or another) - the down-and-out, the oddballs, the ones having a tough time?  What if the pronouncement of the blessing actually conveys the blessing?  I men, what if Jesus, in his blessing, is reminding those he spoke to (and again, I would say that includes all of us), reminding them and us that, in the end, we are not alone but rather are cocooned in the promise of God’s love and presence? 

         Can you imagine how his disciples would have reacted to this message of grace?  Here is Jesus, speaking to people who are struggling to keep their heads above water in an oppressive foreign domination system, people who have been told over and over again that their desperate plight is of their own making, a clear sign that God is punishing them. It is to these people that Jesus says, “Blessed are you.”

         His pronouncements must have been so startling that at least a few people probably thought their ears were not working.  Maybe someone shouted, “What? Can you repeat that?”

         “What did he say?”


         “I think it was ‘Blessed are the cheesemakers.’

         “
Aha, what’s so special about the cheesemakers?” 


         “Well, obviously it’s not meant to be taken literally; it refers to any manufacturers of dairy products.”

         Those are lines from the movie, “Monty Python's Life of Brian”, and I included them for a bit of comic relief from a very serious topic.

         Back to my point:  Instead of issuing a sharp reprimand, which is what his unfortunate lot of listeners expected, instead of saying, “You are getting what you deserve,” Jesus said, “Blessed are you.”

         Blessed are the poor in spirit:  Blessed are you who feel broken and hopeless, you who feel that your life is coming apart at the seams, you whose marriage is iffy, you who feel only stress and deepening darkness.  Blessed are you.  God has not forgotten you.

         Blessed are those who mourn:  Bless are you who still tear up when you think of a loved one who has passed away, maybe years ago, you who mourn for the better days when relationships were simpler and more things were black and white, you who mourn for a life your child will never know again.  Blessed are you.  God walks with you in these desperate and troubled times.

         Blessed are the meek:  Blessed are you who believe that life should be gentle, that more flies really can be caught with honey than with vinegar, who, when life presents you with lemons over and over again, you still try to make lemonade.  Blessed are you.  God is there with you, squeezing the lemons, adding the sugar.

         Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice:  Blessed are you when you do not turn your back on the poor, when you actually try to do something about income inequality even if everyone around you is telling you that either it is a political football – or simply a lost cause.  Blessed are you.  God is there in the trenches with you.

         Blessed are the merciful:  Blessed are you who keep paying it forward time and time again though no one seems to notice, who, even when you have the power to execute and deliver judgment, choose not to – difficult as that is at times.   Blessed are you.  God smiles at you and your endless efforts.

         Blessed are the pure in heart:  Blessed are you who insist upon seeing the world through God’s eyes, who witness God at work in the most amazing and outlandish places, whose starting place is with God-thoughts and ending place is with God-actions, who take seriously the over-used phrase, “what would Jesus do?”  Blessed are you.  God embraces you.

         Blessed are the peacemakers:  Blessed are you who are the family negotiator, who walks into the middle of cruelty and abuse and tries to set things right, who stays to talk rather than running out,

who is the facilitator who intuitively understands that nothing, nothing is worth the pain of not forgiving.  Blessed are you.  God stands with you in the midst of conflict.

         Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of justice:  Blessed are you who take your call to discipleship seriously, who continue to live by the message of the Good News of Jesus even when people laugh at you, call you unrealistic and irrational, or label you as “one of those.”  Blessed are you.  God has got your back.

         Blessed are all the victims – all the ones who know that either figuratively or literally the world has chewed them up and spat them out.  Blessed are you – all of you – because in some way, shape, or form, we are all victims.  Some of us are poor.  Some are in mourning.  Some of us are meek, and others of us try so hard to be merciful, peaceful, pure.  And surely some of us hunger and thirst for justice or are harassed in our quest for that elusive thing. 

         Blessed are you.  Take a moment and soak up God’s grace and promises inherent in that simple blessing.  Breathe deeply of God’s grace because blessed – nothing more, nothing less – just blessed are you – and you – and you.

by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church (U.C.C.), Raymond, Maine