Chapter 5 - He ain't heavy...

The Return of the King

 In some versions of the Robin Hood legend, Robin, the outlaw who has been stealing from the rich to give to the poor, is pardoned at the return of the king, Richard the Lionheart, who had been fighting in the Third Crusade.  Robin is deemed ‘righteous’ in the end, because he stood up for the cause of the poor, he defended the people of Richard’s land in the face of an unjust usurper, the King’s brother John.  Robin Hood is vindicated, even though his means were not altogether lawful.

 That story faintly echoes one told by Jesus.  Jesus concludes his final discourse of Matthew’s account with a story about future judgement of the nations.  He paints a picture of the king, the Son of Man, returning to carry out this judgement, separating people as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.  The righteous, the sheep, go to his right, the unrighteous goats, on his left.

 To the righteous, he says, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me…” (Matthew 25:34ff).  They answer, ‘When?  When did we do any of that?’

 “The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me’” (Matthew 25:40).

 And to those on the left, it’s the opposite.  They are cursed, and are sent to “the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels…” (v. 41).  Why?  Because they did none of the above.

Goats in sheep’s clothing

    Living in the UK, the image of separating sheep and goats used here by Jesus might be lost on us.  After all, sheep and goats look quite different.  Sheep have a slightly plump, woolly appearance; goats are rather scrawny, with horns.  If you put a sheep and a goat side by side, it would be easy to tell them apart.

 Unless the sheep and the goat are Palestinian.  And Jesus is telling this story in Palestine.  For his listeners, sheep and goats would look quite alike.   The indigenous sheep of Palestine is the Awassi variety, which has floppy ears and a long face, not unlike a goat.  So the shepherd’s task in separating them is not as straightforward as we might imagine.  Of course, one would still expect the shepherd to be able to spot the difference.

 But to the untrained eye, the sheep and the goats may be indistinguishable from one another, and goats could infiltrate the flock and pass themselves off as sheep.  This image, of course, adds a sinister edge to goats which probably does not exist, but it is purely illustrative.  The similarity could conceivably result in goats in sheep’s clothing.

 And this point is worth some attention.  Jesus is talking of the difference between the righteous and the unrighteous: the former are represented by the sheep, the latter by the goats.  The term Jesus uses, translated as righteous, is dikaios, which means just or equitable, in character or act. I’d suggest it might be both: character and act.  The righteous are people who do the right thing because of who they are.  They are just.  They are God’s kind of people.

 It is, of course, possible to do the right things without being just.  The unrighteous are identified in Jesus’ story by their failure to do the right things, to act justly or compassionately.  They question when they failed to serve Jesus.  And Jesus points out that if they didn’t do it for the least, they didn’t do it for him.

 This exemplifies the point that it is possible to do the right things without being ‘right’.  This is legalism.  The unrighteous could well include Pharisees and scribes, who may have carried out their religious duties to the letter, but with no change in their character.  For many such people, Torah was reduced to small print, a rulebook on divine etiquette.  It became little more than a manual on how to win divine favour.  It was hoops to jump through.  Look at the story of the Good Samaritan.  The expert in the law asks Jesus, “Who is my neighbour?”  He knows he has to love his neighbour, but he wants to know the definition, the parameters.  Who, and how, when and how often?  He doesn’t get it.  It’s not a thing to do.  It’s a way of life.  Jesus tells the story, and the punchline, in short, is: Look around.  Who’s your neighbour?  Whoever is nearby and needs help.  You need to cultivate a loving disposition.  Neighbourliness is not just about geography, it’s about generosity.  In fact, Jesus turns the whole question on its head, by asking the lawyer, “Which one of the characters in the story was a neighbour to the wounded man?”  We define the neighbour: am I a neighbour, or not?

 Torah, the law, was designed as instruction, as an illustration of how life as God’s children should look.  The legalistic starting point is wrong: Torah was given because God already favoured the people; they were already chosen, his children.  Torah was the example of the kind of life which flows from the heart of God’s children.

 Such a heart does the right thing – not always, but more and more, because it moves in the flow of its Father’s grace.

Acting the goat

 When I was young, my mother would sometimes tell me to stop ‘acting the goat’…  I never understood where this expression came from, so recently I looked it up.  I think it comes from the idea that the devil is a goat.  In Christianity, the devil came to be associated with the Greek god Pan, who was half-man, half-goat in form.

 So the goat, even in Jesus’ own day, was possibly seen as evil, associated with the devil, or Pan.  These unrighteous in Jesus’ story here might be seen as children of the devil as much as the righteous are children of God…  Who knows?  It’s pretty challenging stuff.

Kind

 What is also challenging is that, in explaining the actions of the righteous, Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40).  But this is not a completely new idea.  As in other cases, Jesus is interpreting and illustrating kingdom life as presented in the Hebrew Bible, the Old Testament.  In particular, this has resonance in the Proverb: “Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the LORD, and will be repaid in full” (Proverbs 19:17).

 This proverb, from ancient scribal wisdom, would be well-known for Jesus’ hearers.  The Hebrew Bible frequently presents God’s special concern for the poor.  Social justice was a major part of Torah and of the Jewish religion.

 But this verse seems to go beyond that.  Here, scribal wisdom somehow identifies God with the poor, directly: it is as though kindness to the poor is kindness to God, and is counted by God as such.

 And this is exactly what Jesus says.  Any kindness to the poor is kindness to him.  Because Jesus identifies with the poor.  Jesus is on the side of the little people.  The late, great Rob Lacey captures this brilliantly in his paraphrase of Matthew 25:31-46.  When it comes to the reply of the goats, the unrighteous, Lacey puts it like this: “‘We wouldn’t be like that to you! With someone like you we’d be thoughtful, sensitive, inclusive, generous, caring.  With someone like you we’d never make you feel forgotten.’” Jesus replies, “I’ll say, ‘Truth is, the lowest of the low issomeone like me…’”

He’s my brother

   Jesus goes beyond even simply identifying himself with or taking the side of the poor, the hungry, the lonely, the naked, the sick, the prisoner; in answering the righteous, he says, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40).  Jesus does not see himself so much as an advocate for the little people, perhaps as their local politician, or their lawyer; he calls them his brothers, and a brother has a much stronger tie.  They are connected, their welfare is of mutual concern, there is a sense of interdependence.  Brothers belong to one another.  The local MP may change, a lawyer takes on a case, and then the next, but a brother is always a brother.

 Particularly instructive at this point is the story of Cain and Abel, found in Genesis chapter 4.  Cain is the first son of Adam and Eve, and Abel is the second.  Cain works the soil, Abel keeps flocks.  When Cain brings an offering to God, we are told it is “some of the fruits of the soil…” (Genesis 4:3).  Abel, on the other hand, brings “fat portions from some of the firstborn of his flock” (Genesis 4:4).  God looks on Abel’s offering with favour – and there are various interpretations of why this is – but is not so pleased with Cain’s.  Cain’s resultant anger prompts him to set Abel up and kill him.

 When God asks Cain where Abel is, Cain replies: “I don’t know… Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Genesis 4:9).

 Cain’s flippant response gives rise, ultimately, to Jesus’ point with this story.  God’s revelation to his people through the pages and the unfolding story of the Hebrew Bible sounds a resounding ‘yes’ to Cain’s question.  Cain ishis brother’s keeper.  Cain had a responsibility to care for his brother, but neglected this; such neglect had fatal consequences.

 God outlines two ways for people to relate to one another: to take seriously their responsibility to care for each other, or to abdicate this responsibility.  The first way promotes life; the second, death.  When one brother chooses not to care, he may as well wish his brother dead, as he is choosing to try to end the relationship of brotherhood.  In Cain’s case, this was quite literal.  In most cases, it is not literal, but nonetheless real.

 Jesus is reminding his listeners that God expects brotherly love.  And all those who would wish to claim brotherhood to Jesus must accept this brotherly responsibility for Jesus’ brothers.

 The Hollies capture so much of Jesus’ thought here in their song He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.  The lyrics illustrate the sense of companionship on a journey, of mutual responsibility, of concern for one another’s welfare, and the recognition that “carrying” one another is not burdensome, but liberating for all involved.

Chapter 4 - Beautiful Feet

Guess who’s coming to dinner

 There was an American film, released in 1967, Guess who’s coming to dinner… It starred Spencer Tracey and Katharine Hepburn as the parents of a girl who brings home her new fiancé, a black doctor, played by Sidney Poitier, for a dinner party.  The Poitier character’s parents also come, not realising that his fiancée is white.  The whole thing deals with issues of race and the assumptions made by the various parties.  It was controversial at the time, because inter-racial marriage was still illegal in 17 American states…

 Luke’s gospel has some good insights into the kinds of people Jesus mixed with, and those with whom he expresses solidarity.  And in Luke chapter 7, we find this story about a dinner party.

 Jesus has been invited by a Pharisee named Simon, to have dinner at his house.  And so, at this dinner party, they’re probably sitting round a low table, reclining, with their feet behind them.  Much like we might sit round a picnic blanket.  This was the custom.

 Luke says that “a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that [Jesus] was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment…” (Luke 7:37) I think calling her a sinner is Luke’s way of saying she was a prostitute.  What is interesting to me is that she knows, or even cares to know, that Jesus is here.  Anyway, she bursts in on this scene with her alabaster jar of perfume – probably an essential item for a prostitute in Palestine.  And she stands, or maybe kneels, behind Jesus, at his feet, weeping.  And she washes his feet with her tears and dries them with her hair.  She kisses them, and anoints them with her ointment.

Assumptions

 This commotion prompts mutterings of disapproval from Simon, the Pharisee host – and maybe others there too.  Simon says to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him – that she is a sinner…” (Luke 7:39).

 This line gives away a lot of assumptions that Simon has.  First, he assumes that Jesus is thought to be a prophet, but is sceptical about this.  Second, he assumes that Jesus doesn’t know who or what kind of woman she is.  And third, he assumes that Jesus would be bothered…

 Of course, as Simon sees it, Jesus should be bothered.  This is a sinful woman – for people like Simon, that puts her in two of the worst categories.  Good Jews like Jesus should steer well clear of people like this.  Simon probably invited Jesus because he was a visiting rabbi – in verse 40 he calls him “teacher”, which is rabbi – and this usually merited dinner invitations.  So as a rabbi, Jesus shouldn’t be mixing with the local riff-raff.

 Simon assumed that this sinful woman was not in the in-crowd.  She’s not good enough to sit at the table with Jesus, at the top table of the religious… She’s not blessed, like Simon, in God’s good books… She’s not good enough to touch what God has and what God is doing…

 Well, they say you should never assume…

Kisses

 We could spend a long time looking at this whole incident, thinking about God’s grace, and forgiveness in Jesus, and much more.  But there’s one thing I’d like us to think about: she kissed his feet.  The woman washes Jesus’ feet with her tears, and dries them with her hair, and then she kisses them.

 I wonder if, in fact, this woman who is supposed to be on the outside of God’s stuff, looking in, from a distance – I wonder if, in actual fact, she understands it all better than Simon and those like him.  Maybe this poor, outcast, sinful woman sees what’s really going on here.  Maybe she kisses Jesus’ feet because they’re beautiful…

 Centuries before this episode, God’s people in exile, in Babylon, were comforted by these words of the prophet Isaiah, chapter 52:7 

“How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’”

 Those exiles were longing to see the feet of the one who was going to tell them it was all over.  There was peace, salvation, it’s good news!  They were desperate to see this messenger, who would tell them and prove that their God did indeed reign.  Because it looked like he didn’t.  It looked like God wasn’t on their side, or in control.  They needed to hear this message, and to see the feet, the beautiful feet, on the mountains of the one bringing this good news…

Sign language

 In the Old Testament, some of the prophets were commanded to perform, or to go and witness, ‘sign-acts’: these were symbolic actions that were used to make a point – like Jeremiah going to the potter’s house and watching the potter at work.  This was a symbol of God being able to mould His people Israel, so that when they went wrong, like the clay on the wheel, he could re-shape them…

 Well, I wonder if this incident here is kind of a sign-act.  I wonder if this outcast, sinful woman, is somehow drawing attention to this passage from Isaiah.  Maybe she knew that line, about the beautiful feet, and wanted to come and acknowledge that Jesus is the one who comes announcing peace, who brings salvation, and good news, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns…”  Maybe she didn’t know that line from Isaiah, but she certainly knows that Jesus fulfils it.

 Jesus started his public life with the proclamation that “the kingdom of God has come near (or, is at hand)” (Mark 1:15).  In other words, Jesus announced, “Your God reigns…”  To all those who worshipped or trusted in the God of Israel, Jesus made clear in his words and his deeds, that their God reigns, his kingdom was at hand – reach out, you can touch it, you can see and hear and feel what God is doing… That’s what Jesus is about.

 And so this woman recognises, perhaps for the first time, that her God reigns.  She’s included in what God is doing.  She is welcome.  She’s invited.  Jesus has shown her that she can be a part of God’s kingdom, even though she’s a mess.

 The passage in Isaiah goes on to say, in verse 9: “Break forth into singing, you ruins of Jerusalem; for the LORD has comforted his people, he has redeemed Jerusalem…”  Those words originally referred to very literal ruins of Jerusalem – Jerusalem had been flattened by the Babylonians.  And there were two lots of outcasts in the whole piece – there were the exiles, who were taken away to Babylon, and there were the not-good-enoughs, who were left behind in the rubble.  They were seen as not worth taking, or not threatening…  All these people wanted comfort, they wanted God to put things right.  They wanted salvation.  And God was going to do it.

 And here, this woman is a ruin of Jerusalem.  She’s a not-good-enough.  She’s an outcast.  She’s been cast into the rubble, left there.  She’s been degraded.  Just an aside, thatI don’t think anyone ever wants to be a prostitute – they usually end up there through bad circumstances and bad choices.

 But no longer is this woman an outcast.  No longer is she a ruin.  Because Jesus comes announcing peace, bringing good news, announcing salvation, saying to Zion – to her – “Your God reigns!”  The God she knew was there, but wasn’t allowed to believe was on her side.  The God she always wanted to believe in, but never felt good enough.  The God she had hoped would one day reach out to her and lift her and save her from the mess she was in…  Her God reigns.  That’s what Jesus came to show and to tell.

 That’s good news, isn’t it?  That’s the gospel.  If the gospel isn’t good news for everyone, it isn’t good news.  The heart of that good news is that 

Our God reigns.

Your God reigns.

Their God reigns.

God reigns.

 Let’s kneel before this God, to whom we come in Jesus, and worship him, and have our assumptions challenged, and be restored…

Chapter 3 - Symbols of God's Presence

Same difference?

 When we read the Gospels in the New Testament, we may ask ourselves why we have four versions of the same story, in Matthew, Mark, Luke and John?  And why do they have slight differences in things like the order of events, the wording of what is said, or even in things that are included and things that are left out?

 Well, there are a number of reasons for all of this.  One of the things I like, though, is that each of the four writers has different interests and different ways of thinking about Jesus and his story.  Mark’s Gospel, although the shortest, has a number of little details in his stories.  Like, when Jesus fed 5000 people (or more), all four tell that story, but it’s only Mark who gives the detail that the grass was green.  Sounds obvious to us, but grass isn’t always green in Palestine.  It’s only green at certain times, so it helps us to know when the story took place – spring, near Passover.

Carried by four of them

 So we have this story, in Mark 2:1-12, about Jesus healing a paralysed man.  I love this story.  It’s powerful, and there’s so much in it.  Every time I read or hear this story, I find something new about it.

 Matthew, Mark and Luke all record this story.  It’s famous for the friends carrying the man.  But it’s only in Mark’s gospel that we find out that there are four of them.  And when I read that again, I had this image of four men carrying this man, probably one at each corner.  And I also had another image.

 I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a picture of the ark of the covenant being carried.  This box, with sculpted cherubim, usually looking a bit like eagles, on top; it’s usually golden, and carried by Jewish priests.  And they carry it on long poles.  And there’s always four of them.

 The ark was very important in the Jewish faith.  In the time of Jesus, it was kept in the temple at Jerusalem, behind a big curtain, in the Most Holy Place.  It contained some Jewish artefacts, particularly the tablets of the ten commandments, and the top of it was called the mercy seat.  This was where God said he would sit and meet with his people.

 So the ark became the symbol of God’s presence.  In their past, the people of Israel would march into battle with it…

 Carried by four of them, the tradition goes.

 And here is a paralysed man, carried by four of them…

 It really struck me.  I don’t suppose that Mark made up this detail, but I’m so glad he mentioned it, because now, when I read this, I think of the ark, that symbol of God’s presence.  Perhaps this man, carried by four of them, is also a symbol of God’s presence.  God really spoke to me about this.

He came down

 Look at some other details in the story.  The man is lowered, down through the roof.  Obviously, that was a novel solution to the problem of how to get through the crowds to Jesus.  But looking at this another way, might this not also symbolise God’s presence among us?  In a man, who comes down to us… Like Jesus.  We sing about it.  The chorus, “He came right down to me, He came right down to me, To condescend to be my friend, He came right down to me…”  Again, at Christmas, “He came down to earth from heaven, Who is God and Lord of all…”

 God’s presence comes down to us.

 John’s Gospel starts with this wonderful prologue, and he talks about the Word, which was with God and was God, in the beginning.  The fullest revelation of God.  And the Word became flesh and lived among us.  Came down.

 As John Gowans wrote, “I believe that God the Father can be seen in God the Son…”  If we want to see God, we look at Jesus.  We see the Father in the Son.

Son

 But there’s more in this story.  Look at what Jesus says to the man: “Son…”  He calls him son.  This is the only person that Jesus calls son in our bibles.  So, first of all, that shows the compassion of Jesus, he recognises this man as a man, a human, someone like himself, family…  Jesus does the same thing when he tells a story of the return of the king (Matthew 25:31-46), and the people will be separated out, like sheep being separated from goats.  The righteous sheep are the ones who cared for the least of Jesus’ brothers…

 Jesus identifies himself with the poor, the lost, the lonely, the excluded, the sick…

 And so, Jesus, the Son, sees himself in this man, whom he also calls, “son.”

 The apostle Paul, writing to the Colossian church, tells them about Jesus:

“He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him.  He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.  He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything.  For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.” (Colossians 1:13-20) 

 In the Son, we see God.  He is a symbol of God’s presence.  And I want to suggest that this paralysed man is also a symbol of God’s presence.  Just as the ark, carried by four of them, symbolised God’s presence, so did this man, carried by four of them.  This man, a son, like Jesus the Son, displays the image of God.  Maybe not as perfectly as Jesus, but he displays the image of God, because he was made in that image.

No ordinary people

 So, when we meet someone who is ‘less fortunate than ourselves’, let’s see God in them.  When we serve someone, let’s not do it from above, condescending, out of pity, looking down on them.  Instead, let’s do it out of humility, looking up, in reverence for the God who is present in them.

 Mother Teresa used to talk of serving Jesus in distressing disguise when she worked among the very sick and poor of the Calcutta slums.  Jesus in distressing disguise.

 CS Lewis, that great Christian thinker and writer, said in his book The Weight of Glory, that,

“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whomwe joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously - no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.”

 In each person you meet, there is a reflection of God.  We can discover God’s presence, God’s image, in everyone.  If we really believe this, how will it change us?  What if we see Jesus in everyone we meet?

 There’s a Celtic prayer that says, 

“May the Christ who walks on wounded feet

​walk with you on the road. 

May the Christ who serves with wounded hands

stretch out your hands to serve.

May the Christ who loves with a wounded heart

open your hearts to love.

May you see the face of Christ in everyone you meet,

 And may everyone you meet see the face of Christ in you.”

 Imagine seeing the face of Christ in everyone we meet.  Imagine seeing the Son, the image of the invisible God, in the other, no matter who that other may be.  I pray that God will give us eyes and hearts to see like He does.

Chapter 2 - The In Crowd

Invitation

 Have you ever had the experience where there’s an event happening, say a party or something, and you really wanted to go, but didn’t get invited, or weren’t allowed for some reason.  Or perhaps you’ve been for an interview, for a job or college, and missed out.  Maybe you’ve entered a competition of some kind, and lost out…

 It’s not fun, is it?  I once received an invitation to something, I forget what, but it said on it: “You’re more than welcome – you’re invited!”.  I felt warm and fuzzy.

 In the opening words of Jesus’ famous Sermon on the Mount in Matthew, we find the Beatitudes.  These words are a series of blessings pronounced by Jesus.  This is his invitation to the crowds of followers and potential followers to listen.  It’s his introduction.  That’s very important in a message.  The introduction should draw people in, make them listen, feel that this is for them…

Poor in spirit

So, according to Jesus, who is blessed?  Let’s remind ourselves.  There’s “the poor in spirit” (Matthew 5:3).  This is a hard phrase to understand.  I guess it might mean those who don’t have much invested in the bank of God.  Those who haven’t lived lives particularly pleasing to God.  They might be reckoned to have little standing before God.  The spiritually unclean, those considered distant from God.  It may mean those who are simply honest before God, who humbly admit their shortcomings. 

 One of the things to bear in mind here is that Jesus was saying these words to Jews in the first century.  And at that time, there were different groups among the Jews.  They all believed in God’s kingdom, that God was going to bring a new order, put things right, and so on.  But how this would happen was up for debate.  Some, like the nationalist zealots, thought that they had to fight the Romans to make God king.  The Pharisees, who were obsessive about God’s law, believed that God’s kingdom would come when the Jews perfectly observed the law.  And so, for them, these people who were poor in spirit, who weren’t up to scratch, they were messing things up, stopping God’s kingdom from coming… So they thought.

 But Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven…” (Matthew 5:3).  Far from stopping it, it’s theirs.

Those who mourn

 And then there’s “those who mourn” (Matthew 5:4).  They’re blessed too, says Jesus.  Why?  Because “they will be comforted”.  This isn’t a new idea.  Isaiah 61:2 says that God’s anointed will comfort those who mourn.  And that’s Jesus, he’s God’s anointed.  He comforts those who mourn.  The interesting thing about this word ‘comfort’ is that it really means to call forward, to beckon, to invite someone close.  It’s like God calls those who mourn to come forward, come close, so he can hold them…  So those who mourn are blessed, because God calls them to himself, to hold them tight…

The meek

 Who else is blessed?  The “meek, for they will inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5).  It’s in the film, The Life of Brianwhere they say, “I’m glad they’re getting something, they have a hell of a time.”  That’s the thing about the meek.  They never put themselves forward, they don’t grab for things.  And sadly, in this world, that often means they miss out.  They’re humble, unassuming.  And here, says Jesus, they will inherit the earth.

 ‘Earth’ could also be translated, ‘the land’.  It could be a reference to the promised land.  In the Old Testament, God’s promises and blessings largely centred around the promised land.  This was seen as the barometer of blessedness: when the people were in the promised land, or on the way there, things were good, they were enjoying God’s blessing – his favour.  When they were out of the promised land, things were not good.

 The meek, in the end, will be the ones in the promised land.  Again, this isn’t entirely new.  Jesus is quoting here from Psalm 37:11.  Psalm 37:10-11 say this: 

“A little while, and the wicked will be no more; though you look for them, they will not be found.  But the meek will inherit the land and enjoy peace and prosperity.”

 So, the wicked will be turfed out of the land, and the meek will inherit it.  They’ll be blessed.

Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness

 Who else is blessed?  Those “who hunger and thirst for righteousness” (Matthew 5:6).  This might mean those who are just desperate to be righteous, to be seen as good enough by God.  But I think that’s unlikely.  I think more likely it might mean those who are passionate for justice, like those who campaign on behalf of others.  Or it could mean those who are denied justice, and are desperate for fair treatment.  Well, these people, whichever group it is – maybe all of them – are blessed, because they will get righteousness.  They’ll get justice.  They’ll get satisfaction.  That’s what it means to be filled.  Satisfied means filled.

The merciful

 Who else is blessed?  The “merciful, for they will receive mercy” (Matthew 5:7).  This one makes sense, right?  What goes around comes around.  Or does it?  How many people in the world show mercy?  How many forgive?  Look at Jesus’ parable of the unmerciful servant (Matthew 18:23-35).  The first servant is forgiven by the king.  He then refuses to forgive the second servant.  And that’s sadly the way things often go.  Mercy is a scarce commodity.  Forgiveness is the real F-word that we don’t use.  Look at the money that claims management firms make, with their adverts like “Have you had an accident at work?  We can get you compensation…”  It’s a sign of the times.  Maybe of all times.  Don’t get mad, get even.  Revenge is a dish best served cold.  An eye for an eye… It seems that showing mercy today is a sign of weakness, to be exploited, which it will be.

 But the merciful will be shown mercy.  That’s God’s way.  And they are blessed.

The pure in heart

 Who else is blessed?  The “pure in heart, for they will see God” (Matthew 5:8).  Who’s pure in heart?  Anyone? Maybe Jesus has children in mind here.  The innocent. Again, this phrase echoes the Old Testament, Psalm 24:3-6,

“Who may ascend the mountain of the Lord?  Who may stand in his holy place?  Those who have clean hands and a pure heart, who do not put their trust in an idol or swear by a false god.  They will receive blessing from the Lord and vindication from God their Saviour.  Such is the generation of those who seek him, who seek your face, God of Jacob.”

 As Jesus says, the pure in heart will see God.  They get to stand in his holy place, to ascend the mountain of the Lord.  The innocent.  The children, perhaps.  And those who don’t know or understand sin.  God welcomes them into his presence…  They’re blessed.  In my previous life, I worked in a school for children with quite profound and complex additional needs, and I worked with some of the happiest kids you could meet.  And one of them invited me to his first communion – well, his mother invited me, and some of the other staff.  The Catholic priest officiating spoke about the boy’s ‘sacred innocence…’  He was pure in heart.  He was blessed.

Peacemakers

 Who else?  The “peacemakers”, they’re blessed, because “they will be called children of God” (Matthew 5:9).  This may actually be heavy irony.  The title “Son of God” was associated in the first century with the Roman Emperor Augustus, who died in 14 AD, and later with Emperor Domitian, who ruled at the likely time that Matthew’s gospel was written.  Now, Rome was seen as the enemy of Israel, and many Jews wanted to take up arms against Rome.  Indeed, these so-called “Sons of God,” the Roman Emperors, were anything but peacemakers.  But here, Jesus links peace-making with the true children of God.  You don’t get to be called children of God by violence and aggression.  You earn that title by actively working for peace.  Those who take up peace instead of war and violence and anger, and who promote peace, they’re blessed.  The real children of God are not like Rome, or like the nationalists who want to take up arms against Rome.

 Peace-making can be difficult, dangerous, even.  Standing between (figuratively or literally) opposing parties risks injury.  Peace-making is not the same as peace-loving (that’s most of us, isn’t it?), or peace-keeping (that can lead to unjust compromise – remember the Policy of Appeasement in the 1930s?).  Peace-making is pro-active, it is an intentional effort to create peace, not just preserve peace already there, or hope that it might happen.

 The real children of God are those who make peace.  They’re blessed.

Persecuted

 The final couple of blessings are for those who are persecuted (Matthew 5:10-12).  And this, for me, is probably the point at which we really start to wonder about it all.  How are the persecuted blessed?  Who ever said, when they were being persecuted, ‘I’m so blessed…’?  And what is the purpose of these beatitudes, anyway?  Why does Jesus say all this?

 For a while, I thought these were character traits to be emulated.  I thought we’re meant to try to be these things.  Then we’ll be blessed, we’ll be favoured by God.  But that’s not quite it.  Because that would just be another set of things to try and do to earn God’s favour.  There’s nothing wrong with making peace – in fact, it’s a good thing to do.  But that’s not what this is about.  We don’t earn the blessing.  Jesus is talking here about certain people and saying they are blessed.  He doesn’t say they will be blessed, he says they already are.  So they’re not earning the blessing, they’re blessed simply by their position.  Even though it doesn’t look like it.  The mourning, the broken, those of little account in society.  They’re blessed.  God has his eye on them.

 The thing is, the beatitudes isn’t a set of entry requirements for God’s kingdom.  It’s a guest list.  All these people, like everyone else – but especially these people, says Jesus – are blessed.  These people don’t look blessed.  They don’t look like the In Crowd, but as far as God’s concerned, they are.  These people have a part in God’s kingdom.  They’re more than welcome.  They’re invited.