‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
‘Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
‘Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
‘Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
‘Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
‘You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.
‘You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hidden. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven (Matthew 5:3-16).
Let’s repair a term twisted out of shape like a used beer can, the word, “witness.”
For many of us, the word triggers social anxiety, tempting flight to the nearest bar for hiding. We shudder at memories of well-scrubbed, slickly combed, Bible-toting strangers beaming in our faces and asking, “Friend, do you believe in Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?” Or simply, “Neighbor, are you saved?” Woe to ye who hesitate at the plough or stutter, “I’m not sure what you mean.” For you now have a friend for life, at least until you say, “I believe.” Moreover, this new friend with a tight shoulder clasp walks you to the precipice of the abyss. There the smile recedes and talk of a decision with consequences emerges.
Your new friend calls this rhetorical method, “witnessing,” making your friend, “a witness.”
Guilt-tripping is not the main point in scripture. Granted, among the hyperbolic shock effects Jesus used, he referred to the unrepentant weeping and gnashing their teeth in a smoky outer darkness. He calls the place, “Gehenna,” the term for the city dump outside the gates, a symbol for impurity and alienation. Salvation is about community formed in love for God and one another. So Jesus means that, by choosing unloving ways, we choose to settle somewhere out of community.
But what do saved individuals look like in their community? They are blessed. Before he doles out his most jalapeno-hot hyperbole like rip out your eye if it causes you to sin or offer your left cheek to a bully who slaps your right one, he offers blessings. The Greek term for “blessed,” makarios, means fortunate and privileged, generally used to refer to those atop the social ladder.
So his selection of characters to bless shocks common sense as much as any other hyperbole. For he blesses people with qualities that generally imply a lack of privilege. He begins by blessing the “poor in spirit,” literally those who come before God as beggars for every blessing, grateful that every good thing comes as a gift.
Thus, Jesus promises more blessings, beginning with those who mourn losses they cannot beg back. He blesses the meek, those who go unnoticed in their humble integrity. Then he blesses those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, not the self-righteous. He blesses those who ache over failures of justice and mercy around them and in their own hearts. These turn to God again as beggars for the realization of love within and without.
Stopping after those first four Beatitudes would bestow comfort, but then what? For comfort alone dissolves into depression if we lounge on our couches in self-satisfaction. God made us for love, and only by loving do our blessings last. The cliche is apt: Use it or lose it, not because God takes it away, but because we cannot keep the flower without watering it.
So Jesus continued with four more Beatitudes, blessing the merciful, those who put their compassion in action for those more vulnerable than themselves. The poor include the economically poor in their hunger and homelessness or the socially poor in their loneliness and stigmatization. He blessed those who, in their struggle to free themselves from the idols that own them, find the willingness to give it all up for purer, lighter hearts. He blessed peacemakers, those who extend the hand of fellowship to outsiders against the objections of those who mistake privilege for purity. Finally, he blessed those who face more than objection but persecution, who endure real suffering for peacemaking in the name of Christ.
That brings us to the true meaning of the word, “witness.” The Greek term, martus, which we translate, “martyr,” means, “witness.” Although a cross inevitably accompanies it, the essence of being a martyr is not suffering but bearing witness to God’s love. A whole community can be a martyr. Tertullian, a prominent second century theologian before the end of Roman persecution, noted that the Romans, even as they derided Christians, nevertheless marveled, “But see how they love one another!” Supported by such a community, they bear witness as individuals blessed by Christ who follow him by loving with whatever peculiar gifts he endows.
Speaking of gifts, Jesus named the gifts for those unlikely characters he blessed, and those gifts tell a story. Hear our story and yours as as a baptized person here.
The first and last gift is “the kingdom of heaven.” Translate that as living under the reign of God who loves us, forgives us, and bids us follow in a life of purpose where we have a place. This he promised first to the poor in spirit who claim nothing at all and receive every blessing as a free gift. He promised the kingdom finally to those willing to give it all up for love. That describes the beginning and end of our story, yours and mine. We have it all from the beginning, and we enjoy it all in the end, whatever the specifics of our journey together.
And the greatest miracle on that journey is that, somehow, even our most inconsolable grief meets consolation. That does not end the story; rather, it begins it. For as we, the meek, return to him again and again from confusion and disorientation, we inherit the earth. This inheritance by the humbly obedient realizes justice itself on earth. God measures justice not by the prosperity of the greatest but by the fullness of life among the least.
In the meantime, we hunger and thirst for that justice, and we realize the promised fullness by loving. From that ache for fullness, we reach out to fellow sufferers with mercy. We find not only fulfillment of our purpose but the mercy we need ourselves in our hungering and thirsting. After all, in merciful encounters, Christ is there, our judge who died for us, loves us, and prepares a place for us (Mt 25:31-46).
Realizing Christ is with us, we seek his face. “I want to know Christ,” we declare with Paul, and our desire purifies as it simplifies. Forsaking all else, we find vision to see the divine face in service and prayer, in worship and fellowship. From there, nothing can stop us. We reach out to every suffering Christ that comes our way. As we welcome them into our family, we realize that we are indeed family, sons and daughters of God. Whatever sacrifice God calls us to make for love, we make with the peace of finding our citizenship in God’s kingdom.
You are baptized. You are blessed. The Beatitudes sketch your character and your story. In living it you are the salt of the earth, preserving God’s blessings offered to all, bringing out the flavor of life. You are the light of the world, revealing Christ by the family resemblance you come to share with him. In other words, you are a witness. No guilt or manipulation necessary. No techniques or talking points. Just being your true self, loving God and neighbor as best you can. Not only blessed, but a blessing yourself to a world in desperate need for salt and light.
Related Posts
Mountaintops and the Art Of Freedom
Martyrdom: To Bear Witness By Loving
Witness That Nourishes, Witness That Inspires
For more development on my interpretation of the Beatitudes, see my book, Blessed at the Broken Places: Reclaiming Faith and Purpose With the Beatitudes
Image by Adrian Dascal on Unsplash, Public Domain.
Thank you Marshall for another soul nourishing and thoughtful post. I’m always excited to see when you put up another one.
Thank you, Cinda! I appreciate your support so much.
Love the beatitudes and never tire reading them, thinking about them. This morning I was looking for a musical interpretation of the beatitudes and found this beautiful one by the Estonian composer Arvo Part. (His is quite a story.) https://youtu.be/ADNIh5GCV3M?si=VfEbI1hDlLIkNirY
Blessed
Than you! I’m a fan!