February 1, 2026
When
Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his
disciples came to him.
Then
he began to speak, and taught them, saying:
"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.
There they are: the beloved beatitudes. Nine blessings from the tongue of Jesus. It is the preface to his Sermon on the Mount. It’s the charter for every word he ever spoke – and every word he continues to speak. These twelve verses are a favorite text, among the most famous words in all of scripture. Our Sunday School teacher said, “These are important. Memorize them, just like you memorize the Lord’s Prayer.”
For better or worse, our teacher never mentioned them in terms of politics. That’s right, politics. Wait – why bring politics into this? Because of the origin of the word. Our English word “politics” has been around since the Greek philosopher Aristotle. It comes from the Greek word for city (“polis”) and the word for citizen (“polites”). It gives root to the word “policy.” It can be twisted out of shape when it becomes a “politician.”
But at its root, “politics” has to do with the forming of a people. It is how a community is created, how the life of a people is sustained. This is what Jesus has in mind when he speaks the Beatitudes. He is inaugurating a new community, one that he calls the “kingdom of heaven.” It is a new people, an alternative way of being in the world. It is constituted by his blessing. It is shaped by his values. It is, and always has been, a subset of the wider world – or as he calls it, “the yeast within the loaf.”[1]
The question at the heart of Jesus’ politics is simply this: who matters? He does not say “everybody.” That would be like saying “nobody.” Rather, Jesus turns a selective eye to those who come to him. Whom does he see?
Not
the mighty but the weak.
Not
the strong but the scared.
Not
the intact but the broken.
Not
the winners but those who have lost something. Or somebody.
Not the powerful but the vulnerable.
Survey that list of blessings once again: poor in spirit, mourners, meek, hungry and thirsty for what’s right, merciful, pure of heart, makers of peace, persecuted for doing the right thing, hated for loving Jesus. There is not a powerful person on the list. Not a single one is defensive, arrogant, or insistent on their own way. If there is any trait that they hold in common, it is their vulnerability. They do not run the world. They cannot fix the world. In every way, they depend on the One who is the King of the Kingdom of Heaven.
If we are honest, that is all of us, at least some of the time. We put on good appearances. We try to come across as strong and capable. But Jesus sees us in our need. In that need, he gives his blessing. “God bless you… and you… and you.” Whoever, wherever, whenever. If you can hear him, the blessing is for you.
If, on the other hand, we are preoccupied with ourselves, there is no room for the Christ. If we are intent on running fast, we won’t know what we are missing until life slows us down. If we are preoccupied with climbing higher, we can forget who can catch us when we fall down. It’s just that simple. That’s why it’s so easy to miss. And that’s why Jesus insists on saying it. The kingdom of heaven is for those who need the King. Salvation is for those who need saving. This is the politics of vulnerability.
Are you in a place where you can hear this?
There is a left-handed power at work on Jesus. It comes from a different direction. It’s evident in the Beatitudes and what they do not say. Blessed are those who mourn; they will be comforted. When? How long? Blessed are the meek; they will inherit everything. How? What must they do? Jesus does not say. We simply must wait for God – and that’s the point.
A number of spiritually minded folks suggest the key to unlocking these nine blessings is the first one: Blessed are the poor in spirit. Everything seems drawn to the gravitational pull of that one. The poor in spirit are fundamentally incomplete. They have no resources within themselves. They know it, which means they have everything if they have God. It comes in the blessing, that great Hebrew words baruch atah, blessed are you.
Thinking about this text, Dale Bruner declares it is the essence of grace.
The paradox of the first Beatitude is that Jesus here sides precisely with those who fail what is needed before God, and who feel the failure. Thus the opening saying in the Sermon on the Mount teaches Jesus’ grace… (it) should be appropriately paraphrased, ‘Blessed are those who feel their real personal failure.’ Jesus blesses the spiritually inadequate. This holy paradox is the gospel.[2]
As he goes on to say,
It
is those who feel their sin with hurt and penitence who are the really righteous,
and it is those who are sure they are the righteous who need no repentance who
are the real sinners. It is the dispirited who are often spiritual and live
before God, and it is the marvelously inspired who often expire from God’s
final presence. It is the poor before God to whom God can be rich, and it is
those who feel they are peculiarly rich in God who miss the kingdom altogether.[3]
To those who are weak, broken-down, broken-hearted, and vulnerable, the Christ says, “God bless you.” All of you. It’s remarkable. And the fact that so many of us can gather to hear this jolting announcement is a most gracious gift. It means we are together in this holy initiative of heaven.
We can hunger and thirst for what is right, as we work to the benefit of all who hunger and thirst.
We can stay with those who hurt and grieve, and we can welcome their care when we hurt and grieve.
We can laugh at those who are so deeply invested in the devilish hurts of the world, for God has revealed their foolishness, and we can rejoice as we welcome the Christ that God has sent into the world.
This is what it is to be the citizens of God’s kingdom. We can be the blessing of God because we are receiving the blessing of God. “Blessed are you.” All of you.
Now, the world can be so intoxicated with itself that it finds all of this curious. Sometimes, in its desperation, it may reach for the words of Jesus and then twist them out of shape. Those who traffic in power and might never want to be exposed for how weak they are actually are. They will slather makeup on themselves to cover up their vulnerability. They promote their vanity projects and hope nobody notices the vanity.
Yet those who follow a crucified and risen Savior are never afraid to be honest. Sometimes they are even granted a moment to declare the truth. They reveal their citizenship in the kingdom of heaven.
There was that moment when Fred Rogers, a Presbyterian minister from Latrobe, Pennsylvania, was called to the stage to receive a lifetime achievement reward. The old-timers here may remember he had a television show for children. He was honored for his work. The person who welcomed him on the stage was a young man in a wheelchair. When he was a child, Jeff Erlanger had been a guest on Fred’s show. Now, he came to thank him for noticing him and dignifying him. Fred was blown away.
But then he paused, turned to an auditorium full of glittering actresses and handsome men, took a breath, and said these words:
“Fame” is a
four-letter word, and like "tape" or "zoom" or
"face" or "pain" or "life" or "love" what
ultimately matters is what we do with it. I feel that those of us in television
are chosen to be servants. It doesn't matter what our particular job. We are
chosen to help meet the deeper needs of those who watch and listen day and
night.
Television
needs to do all it can to show and tell what the good in life is all about. But
how do we make goodness attractive? By doing whatever we can to bring courage
to those whose lives move near our own, by treating our neighbor at least as
well as we treat ourselves, and allowing that to inform everything that we
produce.
Who in your
life has been such a servant to you? Who has helped you love the good that
grows within you? Let's just take ten seconds to think of some of those people
who have loved us and wanted what was best for us in life, those who have
encouraged us to become who we are tonight. Just ten seconds of silence. I'll
watch the time.
Then he paused. Waited them out. Waited just long enough
for some of them to take a breath, pause from their glory, and remember how
others had helped them get through their lives. And then, he concluded,
No matter where
they are, either here or in heaven, imagine how pleased those people must be to
know that you thought of them right now. We all have only one life to live on
earth. We have the choice of encouraging others to demean this life or to
cherish it in creative, imaginative ways.[4]
It was a brief, rare moment when Truth (with a capital T) was revealed. The moment wasn’t about Fred, it was about others. The world’s values were flipped over by the blessing of the King. It’s true: all of us have an empty spot. The hurts come. We cannot complete our lives. Nobody gets out of this life healthy or intact.
But there’s good news in this vulnerability. We slow down. We notice our humanity. Then we claim Christ’s divinity, which is wrapped in his humanity. This is the open secret of the Gospel. No matter who we are, no matter what we have done or will leave undone, we are known. We are held. We are loved. We are blessed, that we might be a blessing. Blessed are you.
[1] Matthew 13:33.
[2] F. Dale Bruner, The Christbook:
A Historical/Theological Commentary, Matthew 1-12 (Waco, TX: Word
Publishing, 1987) 137.
[3] Ibid.
[4] See the moment online at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TcNxY4TudXo
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