Rejoice in that Day

Scholars tell us that both Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount and Luke’s Sermon on the Plain are most likely compilations of Jesus’ sayings accumulated over a larger part of his teaching ministry rather than one sermon. It is possible that, at various times, Jesus stood or sat to teach and put together these various thoughts in one larger teaching moment. It was a technique the rabbis called “stringing pearls.”

The problem is that some of these pearls are hard to hear. “Blessed are you when people hate you.” Really? Is that something we should aspire to? Something we should work toward? “Rejoice in that day (that hating day) and leap for joy...” I don’t know if this is something I really want to claim in my faith. I know, I’ve been told as a pastor that if people aren’t upset by what I am doing, then I’m not doing enough. In which case, I’ve done plenty in those days. But I’m not sure that’s what he was getting at here. It isn’t that we set out to upset people, to do whatever it takes to get us hated. If that were the case, then those who hold up signs of hate in Jesus’ name are on the right track. And there is no way in God’s heaven that makes sense.

Blessed are you who are poor; blessed are you who are hungry. Are we supposed to just let the poor and the hungry live in their blessedness because someday, there will be a change in their circumstances? Or are we called to be a partner in that change? Are we the promise that Christ gives to those in difficult circumstances?

And what does it mean to promise the kingdom of God? Is it, as so many believe, a “someday” kind of promise? You’ll get your reward one day when you die or when Jesus comes back, whichever comes first. Or is there something else going on here? If so, what would that be? Is it something beyond the facile “it will all work out in the end” kind of assurance?

I hope so. I remember more than once dealing with those who were grieving, who were weeping, who were broken. I remember grasping at straws for something of significance to say. I clearly remember thinking Luke, chapter six, verse twenty-one: “Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.” And I remember dismissing it from my mind because I knew it wouldn’t be heard. And I knew enough of the situation to know that it wouldn’t easily be made right; there was no simple or easy happy ending on the horizon.

So, what do these verses offer people in desperate situations? Hope? Well, yes, there is hope. There is a promise of reversal. There is resolution for even the most complex, the most broken of situations. And we who stand in faith must never lose our hold on that hope. It is what drives us to keep working, to keep giving, to keep loving, even when we don’t see a solution on the horizon.

But these verses tell us that this hope comes packaged in a relationship: “Yours is the kingdom of God.” Even the most desperate people are still worthy of love, welcome, and hospitality. There is room at our table, room in our inn, room in our circle, even for the hurting, even for the weeping.

That is why when folks are hurt and withdraw from community, the healing takes so much longer. That is why seclusion is detrimental to hope. The kingdom that is offered is a community, a relationship of healing and hope. That relationship is, of course, first and foremost with Jesus the Christ, the author of hope, the source of healing. But it is lived in the here and now, in the everyday, with the human community we call the church, a place of acceptance and inclusion. At least we hope so; at least we strive to be that community, that reflection of the kingdom.

Did you notice that some verses are future tense: you will be filled, you will laugh. But some are present: yours is the kingdom. We can be right now the place of filling and the place of healing or learning to laugh again. We can’t fix the problems with a snap of the fingers, but we can be a part of the solution—if we hang in there together.

Maybe the rejoicing is about recognizing an opportunity to grow closer, to deepen our relationships by entering into the brokenness and standing with those who have been hurt. We may not have the solutions or have them quickly or easily, but we can journey together. And in so doing, we know we celebrate the presence of Christ and the making of and being made into disciples.