“Blessed are the poor in spirit . . . those who mourn . . . the humble . . . those who hunger and thirst for righteousness . . . the merciful . . . the pure in heart . . . the peacemakers . . . [the] persecuted.” - Matthew 5:3–10
As a child who grew up in Sunday school, I was familiar with the Beatitudes, but I must admit they never really drew me in. They felt like an arduous list of to-dos, but even worse, who wanted to try to be poor in spirit, or hungry, or, for heaven’s sake, persecuted? In high school, I found this less enticing than being popular. While a great deal of sanctification still needed to happen in my life, at least some of my aversion to the Beatitudes was simply that I didn’t understand them.
Without stripping the Beatitudes of their radical claims, it came as a great relief to learn that the Beatitudes are not a list of Christian to-dos. Nor are they Paul’s fruit of the Spirit we’re to display, or the Ten Commandments we’re to carefully adhere to. They are antigravity truths that float up when the harshness of life crashes down. They are more like laws of nature than laws of the land. You don’t keep the Beatitudes like a good citizen; rather you live by them as fundamentally sound realities you can count on.
Jonathan Pennington explains them this way, “Jesus presents not a list of heroes of the faith nor a list of moral behaviors that describe the truly pious but rather a redefinition of who the people of God are.”5 Don’t you just love this?
This liberates me, and I hope it does you too. The Beatitudes are not another diet plan or exercise regime or study program on which you need to get cracking. They’re a declaration of how life operates in God’s kingdom since the arrival of Jesus! They’re promises of what’s available to us right now and in the age to come.
If we’re really going to “get” the Beatitudes, I think the most helpful thing to do is put ourselves in the shoes of who was there that day. We must stand on the hillside of the worn out, those weary of waiting for God to bring freedom from their oppressors like He promised Abraham He would. Maybe you are already in those shoes—poor in spirit, mournful, having to show mercy . . . again. You’ve had it up to here with sticking yourself in between two warring parties as the peacemaker. Being pure in heart has cost you your place in line. Belonging to the pious doesn’t seem worth it.
It is precisely in these conditions that Jesus speaks the word blessed. He says you are flourishing in His kingdom because of divine realities His presence calls into existence.
If we listen to the Beatitudes, as those first-century followers of Jesus listened, I believe they will ring out as kingdom realities, not kingdom chores. If you’re mourning, you’re invited to flourish in God’s kingdom because you can count on being comforted by the Son of God Himself. If someone has deeply wronged you, you’re invited to be merciful to the wrongdoer because Christ will, without a doubt, shower you with His mercy. If you find yourself persecuted for the sake of Christ, you can reckon yourself as positively blessed because the kingdom of heaven is yours. This is still as radical as ever; it’s just no longer oppressive.
As we consider the Beatitudes, don’t feel like you have to do anything. Jesus has plenty for us to do later in the Sermon. For now, cease striving and simply contemplate the surprising nature of Christ’s kingdom. Reflect on the deep mystery of being able to thrive in the presence of Christ when the world says impossible. And if you struggle to understand what some of the Beatitudes mean, it’s okay. Rest assured we will spend the rest of our lives growing into them. You need only make yourself available to learning His ways.
Excerpt taken from The Blessed Life by Kelly Minter, B & H Publishing Group, Nashville TN. Copyright © 2023 Kelly Minter. Used by permission of the publisher. All rights reserved.
Photo Credit: Getty Images/Marinela Malcheva
