"The Beatitudes: Unlikely Blessings for Unlikely People"
There were no windows in the fellowship hall of the old Missionary Baptist Church in Oakland, California, but the whitewashed walls gave the room a feeling of light and welcome. I sat there with a couple of my seminary classmates, listening intently to the African American pastor who was at least fifteen years my senior. I don’t remember his name or what he looked like, but I’ll never forget his words!... With quiet intensity, he shared with us the incredible story of how he’d come to serve as pastor of that church. He was a man who’d suffered much. His son had been killed in a drug-related drive-by shooting. After that, his life spiraled downward into the darkness of alcoholism. He ended up living on the streets for a time…until one day he woke up on the steps of the Missionary Baptist Church and had a strong sense God was calling him to become the pastor of that church. It was a turning point in his life. He got up, got sober, and began to study God’s Word...and eventually he did become the pastor of that church!... But the part of his story that really stuck with me was when he summed up what he’d learned about life and faith. It stuck with me, because at the time I didn’t really get what he was talking about. He said, “I’ve learned not to ask, ‘Why me, Lord?...’ Now I ask, “What next, Lord? What next?...”
Fast-forward about 20 years to a brightly lit coffee shop in Vancouver, Washington, where I sat listening to a person who was probably 15 years my junior share his story of struggling in the midst of personal darkness. Shackled by the grief and pain of broken relationships, this individual told me they didn’t know how to break free and move forward. He confessed to feeling utterly alone and abandoned by God…. As I listened, my heart ached for my companion, yet I also knew it wouldn’t be helpful to sugarcoat things or to offer easy answers…. You see, in the 20 years that had elapsed since my meeting with the Missionary Baptist pastor, my own life experience had taught me that the only way to get out of the darkness is to walk through it....one step at a time, sometimes stumbling and falling, sometimes moving backwards, always praying, and eventually finding a way forward.... So, I looked my conversation partner in the eye and said to him, “I’m not going to lie to you. The only way out of the darkness lies through the darkness. You have to walk through it… BUT you don’t have to walk through it alone…. God is with you in the darkness, so look for the light of God’s presence. God is there, working through the people who love you, and God’s Spirit is working all around you and deep within you. You may not be aware of it right now, but keep watching and listening because God is there….”
Later, as I reflected on that conversation, my memory took me on a whirlwind tour of some of the rough patches in my own life – times when I’d found myself walking in darkness and floundering for direction. Now, as I look back over the years, I’m aware that my go-to prayer for such times has become something like this: “I don’t know what I’m doing, Lord. I’m making this up as I go! So, please help me!...” I have to say that over the years there’s been a lot of stumbling and falling…. BUT there’ve also been glimpses of grace along the way, and I’ve encountered
angels — that is, messengers of God’s love — who mysteriously showed up at different points on the journey to walk with me and guide my next steps…. And so, somewhere in the midst of the darkness, I began to trust that it was enough just to take the next step. Bit by bit, I began to see that each step helped shed light on the next part of the path, and it was enough. Like the Missionary Baptist pastor I’d met back in my seminary days, somewhere along the way I also learned to view struggle and suffering as part of the fabric of life. And so, these days instead of asking, “Why me, Lord?,” I, too, am more inclined to ask, “What next, Lord? What next?...” I also think I might be becoming a more compassionate person. And I say “becoming” quite intentionally because the older I get, the more I realize how much I still have to learn on this journey of faith! As the writer of 1 John says, “Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed….” Or, as Myron Mohr put it in Bible study last Sunday morning, “No matter what age we are, we’re all a work in progress!...” Amen? […]
Speaking of learning, I think I’m also gaining a new understanding of the message of the Beatitudes. So, please bear with me while I try to unpack this message!... Most of us are aware that the words Jesus speaks in today’s reading from Matthew 5 are part of the Sermon on the Mount, which is counted among the most familiar and best-loved passages in all of Scripture. And yet these beautiful words of comfort and promise are also among the most misunderstood passages in Scripture. You see, all too often, the Beatitudes have been viewed as a “prescription” — that is to say, “If you live in these ways, you’ll reap these rewards.” But that’s not what Jesus is saying in this passage. His words are not a prescription; they’re a description: Jesus pronounces the most unlikely people “blessed” — not just in some far off future life in heaven, but right here and now in this earthly vale of tears.... Let that sink in for a moment, because it’s really quite astonishing…. How can it be that the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake are BLESSED here and now?! I mean, when you and I think about the people we know who fit those categories, at first glance, they may not seem very “blessed!” On the contrary, in these tumultuous times, they often seem bedraggled, depressed, downtrodden, defeated… Similarly, when you and I plumb the depths of our own broken hearts, we’re more likely to encounter a flood of tears than a wellspring of blessing…. And as a fellow mourner with you on this All Saints’ Day when we gather to remember our dear ones who’ve passed from this life, I’m fairly certain “blessed” wouldn’t be the primary word many of us would use to describe how we’re feeling…. So, what’s going on with our Scripture reading? What’s Jesus trying to say?!... After sitting prayerfully with Jesus’s words for a while, I believe what’s going on here is this: The Beatitudes offer us a glimpse of God’s Kindom1 vision of healing and justice for this world God loves so deeply. Here Jesus assures those who are walking in darkness — that is, those who feel alone and abandoned --- that God sees our suffering and that God really does care. Furthermore, Jesus declares that those who are most vulnerable are already blessed; indeed, they’re blessed precisely because they’re acutely aware that they need God’s blessing more than anything else… To say it another way, these little ones know that apart from God
nobody else can help them…. That reminds me of a piece my college choir sang that had a nice paraphrase of the Beatitudes: “How blessed are those who know their need of God; the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs….”
As I pastor, I sometimes do hospital visits, care facility visits, or home visits with people who are vulnerable due to aging and health concerns. When these beloveds aren’t able to receive Holy Communion, I pray with them, and sometimes I’ll anoint their forehead with oil and make the sign of the cross. As I bless them, I remind them that long ago God claimed them in baptism as a beloved child and, so, nothing can ever separate them from God’s love. But the truly astonishing thing, friends, is how often these vulnerable ones offer an unlikely blessing to an unlikely person: me!... Not long ago, I visited a person whose memory and ability to communicate has faded. I anointed them with oil, prayed for them, and then asked, “Do you know how much you are loved?” Their whole face lit up with a gentle smile, as they uttered a resounding “yes!” It was the only word they said during our entire visit, but it said everything! “Wow!,” I thought to myself. “Not only do God’s blessings cut through the fog of dementia, they even cut through our delusions that we caregivers are the strong ones who have it all together!...” I left there with a heart full of blessing, grateful that they knew they were being held safely in God’s love. Indeed, the Kindom of God is theirs already!….
My friends, I’d like to leave you with these words of assurance: You, too, are deeply loved, as are the beloved saints who’ve gone before us…. As we light candles today to remember our dear ones, let’s hold fast to the promise that nothing can ever separate us from the love of God revealed through Jesus the Christ. And let’s ask God to rekindle the flame within us, so that we can pass the torch of faith and the light of love to future generations. Blessed are you, dear saints! You and I are blessed to be a blessing!... May we grow in faith and love all the days of our lives, and may we become the salt-of-the-earth, light-of-the-world, fully human saints our God has created and called us to be. Amen.
[1] In recent years, it’s become more common to substitute the phrase “kindom of God” for the more traditional “kingdom of God.” Since we’re a people who no longer have “kings,” since we believe that our God is a God who desires to be in loving relationship with all God’s children, this change seems fitting.
The Beatitudes: Unlikely Blessings for Unlikely People
