Tag Archives: the beatitudes

Matthew—Blessed is hard, not lucky

Matthew 5:1-11

His words on that mountain unsettle me. I say I’m so blessed to have this [fill in the blank]. Family. Job. House. Hair. Brownie. Whatever. But a few minutes of that mountainside sermon, and I realize that what I really mean is I am one lucky girl. So fortunate to have the life I have. It takes some digging to discover that blessed goes a whole lot deeper and is a whole lot harder than lucky.

Luck and fortune have nothing to do with the blessing of God. 

μακάριος, or makarios, is the word for blessed. 

[“the state of one who has become a partaker of God; to experience the fullness of God. It refers to the believer in Christ who is satisfied and secure in the midst of life’s hardships because of the indwelling fullness of the Spirit.”*]

Being blessed has nothing to do with my relationship with this earthly life and everything to do with my relationship with God.

And it’s a slow process to realize that everything is about God. Just everything.

Blessed begins at the cross where I stand spiritually impoverished before the tree where hangs the very fullness of God. And it continues through to my persecution. In between are the steps to becoming. The walk that leads to deeper places in God and to a greater partaking of His character.

As I step into mourning my sin instead of hiding it, and as I mourn others’ sin instead of throwing the first stone, I am blessed.

As I stop resisting God and begin to trust Him, asserting myself and my interests less and submitting myself wholly to Him who is in control of everything, I am blessed.

When I stop hungering for the things of this world, the things that soothe my flesh, and begin to long for what pleases God, to desire His will above anything else, I am blessed.

refugees

As I learn that compassion must be active and not passive, that being merciful means I must actually act upon my pity and do something about the needs of others instead of just talking about it, I am blessed.

When I live with my heart open before God and not hidden, allowing Him to cleanse it, not shrinking back, not withholding any part of my heart from His purifying fire, I am blessed.

When I become active in the reconciliation and restoration of others to God, wading into the pain and brokenness of the world around me to actually demonstrate the love and goodness of Jesus, going into the war for people’s souls rather than passively avoiding it, I am blessed.

And when I am shunned, driven away, harassed, denied and threatened not because of who I am, but because of who He is, I am in good company and I am blessed.

Blessed is not lucky, it is hard. It is dying. It is emptying. It is denying. It is going instead of staying, loving instead of hating, lifting up, not pushing down. It is living, not just talking. It is carrying a cross, not wearing one.

Blessed is becoming more like Him and less like me. 

*"Greek Thoughts" by Bill Klein, posted at StudyLight.org.

i learned a new word today

“Now when He saw the crowds, He went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to Him, and He began to teach them…” (Matthew 5:1-2)

So I went too, because I want, need, crave His discipleship. At first, I just listened to the cadence of His voice because, frankly, I had heard these words before.  The temptation was there to just move on. But something was pushing at my brain, clamoring to get in.  I kept listening, making Him repeat every word over and over because something was there and it wanted in. And then a list started forming in my head. Books. Drugs. Alcohol. Men. Marriage. Children. Church. Gifts. Purpose. Calling. (Stay with me, it will all make sense eventually. Hopefully.)

And then the door flung open and there it was. On this mountainside, Jesus turned “happy” on its’ little head. My list has a title – “My Search for Happiness”. And the whole world has a list because those who bear the image of their Creator are on a continual search for “happy”. So here, on this mountainside with my mysterious Friend, I felt the ground shift ever so slightly. I put Jesus on repeat, slowed down His voice and just listened.

“Blessed [happy]are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven”.

Happy happens when you know full well that you have no power, no authority what so ever, apart from Jesus. There’s no revelation, no movement, no healing, no freedom, no salvation…nothing in you. So you continually have your hand out to God. And in that place…knees to the ground, hand out, fully aware that you have nothing…He gives it all to you.

A spiritual beggar has more power and authority than any other person on earth. And that makes them happy. Happy to be poor in spirit, because when they walk in that, heaven comes down. Healing happens, for real. Darkness is overcome, for real. People are set free, for real.

I listened to Jesus today, and realized that I know too many words. Calling, destiny, gifting, purpose. Good, useful words, except when they spell happiness. When they eat away at my spiritual poverty, they become dangerous.

My search for happiness started early, as a little girl who discovered the wonderful escape route of books. The search looked different as I became different, and you would think that it would have stopped when Jesus found me. And actually, it did, in part. I have a deep joy in me that nothing can touch, thank You Jesus. But I’ve still looked for “happy” and simply exchanged words like “drugs and alcohol” for “calling” and “purpose”.

The disciples went to Him as He sat on the mountainside, and He taught them. I was there. I learned a new word.

Poor

 

 

 

 

**Disclaimer time:  I know that the Beatitudes are speaking, at least in part, of those who will receive salvation. But I have asked Jesus for more. For deeper. I believe that the word of God is relevant to me every day of my life. If it is only referring to salvation, then these verses in Matthew would no longer be relevant to me, because I have salvation. So today’s post is simply what I heard Jesus speaking to me, for me, today. I’m not trying to make up a new doctrine.