Blessed are you:

February 16, 2025

Back when I taught New Testament, one of the exercises I always gave my students was to compare and contrast the two versions of the Beatitudes in the gospels. We heard Luke’s today: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the Kingdom of God.” Matthew’s is probably more familiar to you; but to jog your memory, it begins “Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” After we went through all of the differences I would ask them, “Which version do you prefer?” or, and this is really the same question, “Which do you think is closer to what Jesus may actually have said?” 

While there would be someone occasionally, a non-conformist or provocateur who would answer “Luke’s” invariably my students, comfortably upper middle-class suburbanites would say “Matthew’s.” And that’s to be expected because Matthew’s is more accessible more inclusive, if you will. Anyone can be “poor in spirit” but we all know, don’t we, the obvious differences between rich and poor.

 Now, there’s no escaping it. Luke’s version of the beatitudes is more challenging. Jesus is addressing his audience directly: “Blessed are you poor!” There’s a corresponding set of woes: “Woe to you who are rich for you have received your consolation.” Which, among other things, suggests that there were some rich people in his immediate audience. On the surface, what we hear is divisive and off-putting.

But before delving into the content of Jesus’ words, let’s look at the setting. First, like the version in Matthew, which begins the Sermon on the Mount, there’s a mountain in this story as well. But the differences are worth noting. The lectionary doesn’t include it. We’re told that Jesus went up to the top of a mountain to pray; then he called his disciples to him and chose twelve as his apostles, and with them, came down from the mountain to a level place. Thus in Luke, it’s called the Sermon on the Plain. But note the audience, something of a series of concentric circles. There are the apostles, the twelve; then the disciples, a much larger group that included both men and women; and finally the crowd: a great multitude from Jerusalem and Judaea; and even the region of Tyre and Sidon. They had come, not only to listen to him teach, but to be healed.

But let’s think about another aspect of this context. As I mentioned, in Matthew, Jesus speaks these beatitudes, blessings, from the top of a mountain—a place associated with divine revelation, Mt. Sinai, for example. Level places were perceived differently.. Often, they were seen as places of suffering, of mourning, hunger, and misery. At the same time, in the prophetic tradition, God renews the level places—remember Isaiah’s prophecy quoted by John the Baptist?

“Prepare the way of the Lord,
   make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled,
   and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
   and the rough ways made smooth;

The Authorized Version, the KJV, reads “the rough places plain”

We get the connection between God and mountains—a mountain top experience; MLK Jr’s “I’ve been to the top of the mountain” but God working in level places, in the messiness of life, that might be something else.

And we see that messiness in the text. For unlike Matthew’s beatitudes which pronounce blessing on the poor in spirit, the meek, those who mourn; Luke’s Jesus in addition to blessing the poor, the hungry, those who weep, the persecuted, he also issues condemnations: against the rich, those who laugh, etc. That both groups, the poor and the rich were addressed directly suggests that like the messiness of life itself, the crowd listening to Jesus consisted of “all sorts and conditions” of people, as the old collect says.

It’s also worth considering the fact that those listening were at very different places in their lives and in their relationships with Jesus. There were the 12 who had been singled out by Jesus, chosen as his closest companions, symbolic of the 12 tribes of Israel, God’s chosen people. There was the wider circle of disciples, followers of Jesus who had been with him for a time, and some would continue to follow him right up to the end to Jerusalem and the cross. And there was the crowd, the multitude, who had come out of curiosity and perhaps desperation, to hear, and to be healed.

It’s not really a message that’s intended for everyone, is it? How do you think a wealthy person would have responded to Jesus’ words. How did you react when you heard them? Did you think about your own relative wealth and prestige compared to the abject poverty of so many in the world? Did you begin to squirm? Did you think of those others who are so much richer than you, and thought that perhaps, Jesus wasn’t speaking to you? 

Last Sunday, we heard scriptural readings about call and response.  In today’s gospel, we might intuit that Luke sees in Jesus’ audience for his sermon, different responses to his call. As I said, there are the twelve, the wider circle of disciples, and the crowd. Those words might have hit those groups differently, just as they might hit us differently, depending on our life circumstances and where we are in relationship to Jesus calling us.

Some of us may be all in for Jesus, some of us may be wavering for all sorts of reasons. Think again about the blessings Jesus pronounces. They conclude with an especially powerful one: “Blessed are you when people hate you, and revile you and exclude you….” The idea that Christians in the West, in the US might be persecuted has long been something of a fantasy or a mind-game. Yet The ways in which Christianity has been coopted in this country to buttress wealth, power, and division threatens our witness and threatens the gospel.  We wonder whether we will be able to express our faith in Christ openly and to practice the sorts of justice work that we believe is a natural outgrowth of our faith—feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger and refugee and the like. But in our fear and anxiety, Jesus’ words are words of promise: “rejoice in that day and leap for joy!” I hope we can claim and experience that joy whatever might come.

Some of those who heard Jesus’ call; some like Simon Peter, James and John, left everything behind and followed Jesus. But there were others listening to Jesus. Perhaps they were his disciples as well. But they responded differently to his call and to his words of promise and blessing. Perhaps they were on the fence, feeling the tug of his words, a yearning for deeper relationship with him. Perhaps you might imagine yourself in that crowd, wondering where you are standing, in that nearer circle, or further away?

The way of life that Jesus proclaims; the way that he followed and toward which he leads us is not an easy road. It is full of hardship and challenge. It ended for him on the cross. But it is also a way of joy and peace in which all are welcomed and embraced, where true community is found, and where his followers leap with joy. Wherever we are on our journeys, wherever we are as we listen to his words, may we seek to follow him and as we do, may we learn the joy of dwelling and walking with him.