CHAPTER 5
Matthew 4:23–5:16
LISTEN to the Story
23Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and healing every disease and sickness among the people. 24News about him spread all over Syria, and people brought to him all who were ill with various diseases, those suffering severe pain, the demon-possessed, those having seizures, and the paralyzed; and he healed them. 25Large crowds from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea and the region across the Jordan followed him.
5:1Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, 2and he began to teach them.
He said:
3“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
5Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
6Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
7Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
8Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
9Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.
10Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
11“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. 12Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
13“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
14“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.
Listening to the Text in the Story: Exodus 19:3–6; 24:12–13; Deuteronomy 11:26–28; 18:15–19; 30:1–20; 2 Chronicles 36:15–16; Psalms 24:3–6; 37:7–11, 22–34, 37–40; 120:7; 126:1–6; Proverbs 11:17; Isaiah 9:1–7; 42:5–9; 51:1–8; 55:1–3; 60:1–4, 15–22; 61:1–11; Hosea 2:21–23.
When Jesus found his first disciples, fishermen, they were casting and mending their nets. Galilean fishermen used circular nets anchored around the edges and a rope tied to the middle so that after throwing the net in the water, the fishermen would simply pull on the rope, causing the weights to draw the net together at the bottom and capture the fish. With the stone weights clanging against each other during the drawing process, the cords of the net getting tangled, fish thrashing about in the trap, the nets would tear causing large gaps for the fish to escape. Untangling ropes and sewing up holes were the constant chores of lake fishermen. One wonders what was going through the minds of Peter and Andrew, James and John, when Jesus told them he would teach them how to fish for people. Did they constantly draw comparisons between their trade and this new enterprise? What nets would they use to capture people? Would stuff get all twisted up when they fished for disciples? And, probably the question any Galilean fisherman wanted answered, would they still have to spend all those hours mending their nets?
Matthew makes it plain that Jesus drew huge crowds—fishing for men and women—when he performed miracles. In almost a matter-of-fact way, Matthew summarizes the early ministry of Jesus as teaching, preaching, and healing (Matt 4:23). Even though he doesn’t explain at this point what Jesus taught in the synagogues or describe Jesus’s sermons about the kingdom of heaven (both will come later in full course), our Gospel writer does offer a few lines—rather nonchalantly—about the incredible success of Jesus’s healing work (vv. 24–25). Jesus cast a big net over the country when he started healing people—and not just any people, but especially the ones considered “hopeless” because doctors couldn’t help them: the demonized, paralyzed, and lunatics.1 Truly these were the people “living in darkness . . . in the land of the shadow of death” (Matt 4:16), overpowered by the evil one. We tend to take for granted the powers of medicine, the privilege of going to hospitals where perfect strangers—experts in their field—take care of us. Sure, healthcare is big business in our country. It’s big business because we demand the best healthcare. Can you imagine living in New Testament times, when these luxuries didn’t exist? There were no emergency rooms, no surgical options, no FDA-approved drugs. Many physicians were slaves, “medicine men,” who practiced what would look to us like a cross between homeopathic medicine and voodoo. Getting sick would mean you had just as much a chance of dying as getting better. Diseased people throughout the Roman Empire flocked to temples where Asclepius (the god of healing) offered the last hope of remedy to those willing to pay. It’s no wonder, then, that crowds schooled like fish to see Jesus, not only from the four corners of Israel but also from neighboring gentile territories like Syria.2 He was healing people—the worst kind of diseased people—for free. Evil was defeated for a change; Satan was losing his grip. What makes it even more astonishing is that Matthew doesn’t act like it’s a big deal. “Yeah. Jesus caught a bunch of people by healing them. But, it’s what he said that matters more.”
Teaching, preaching, healing. Even the order of the list reveals Matthew’s priorities when summing up the significance of Jesus. Primarily, Jesus came to teach, and the famously entitled “Sermon on the Mount” stands as a tremendous monument to his didactic purpose. The motivation for the Sermon according to Matthew was the sight of so many people: “Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down” (the posture of rabbis taking the seat of Moses to teach; Matt 5:1; 23:2). Jesus drew the net when he healed. Now it was time to catch the fish, and the way he would “make disciples” of all who followed him (Matt 4:25) was to teach them his commandments—the same method of instruction he passed on to his disciples (Matt 28:20).3 Because of the Sermon’s setting and the direct references Jesus made to the law, many scholars hear echoes of Moses’s ascent to Mt. Sinai to receive God’s word (Exod 19:3–4).4 In other words, what we have here is another attempt by Matthew to present Jesus as the “new Moses,” the prophet who was supposed to come to Israel and speak the very words of God (Deut 18:15–19).5 That Matthew places Jesus’s teaching front and center, adding stories of healing and preaching afterward (Matt 8:1–9:34), concluding the section with the same summary statement (9:35) that begins the entire unit (4:23–9:35), makes it quite evident that the Sermon on the Mount takes priority as the opening salvo of Jesus’s kingdom initiative.6 Indeed, in no uncertain terms Jesus challenges his listeners—and comes out swinging against the scribes and Pharisees—on what righteousness should look like in the kingdom of God.7
EXPLAIN the Story
Before we launch into the beginning of the Sermon, there are two observations that are important to interpreting Jesus’s teaching. First, when we read the Sermon (especially in Greek), it is evident that Jesus is describing the kind of people who will make up the kingdom of heaven. Plural pronouns appear throughout the Sermon. He’s not describing a particular individual, setting up only a personal ethic of behavior. Rather, he’s purposely characterizing the righteousness of a people group.8 When we read, “Blessed are the poor in spirit” or “You are the light of the world,” it’s easy to interpret these sayings individualistically—that Jesus is describing the person who is spiritually poor, the individual who is supposed to be the “light of the world.” In fact, we teach our children to sing, “This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine.” But the pronoun is plural, “You all are the light of the world.” Jesus was talking about a group of people who shine like a city on a hill, a people group who recognize their spiritual poverty. So what we should be teaching our children to sing is: “This little light of ours, we’re going to let it shine” (which doesn’t rhyme, but the little ditty would be truer to what Jesus taught). Throughout the Sermon, I’ll keep returning to this significant feature of Jesus’s teaching, reminding us to consider what the corporate reality of our discipleship means for the kingdom. We often emphasize having a personal relationship with Jesus—and rightfully so—but we don’t talk much about our corporate relationship with him.
The second observation is this: Scot McKnight is right to emphasize the end of the Sermon as the beginning point of our study.9 To see where Jesus ended up, calling his disciples to do what he said, is key to making sense of the punch of the Sermon. Of course, we have the advantage as readers. Rather than having to wait and wonder where the speaker is going (how many times does that question cross your mind while listening to a sermon?), we can skip to the end and see what Jesus was up to, the “call for a decision,” the nub of the matter at hand. In fact, like any superb persuasive speaker, Jesus puts before his listeners a binary choice—mutually exclusive—characterized as two gates, two paths, two kinds of prophets, two kinds of trees, two kinds of builders (Matt 7:13–27). The question left in the minds of the listeners is this: Which gate are we going to enter; which path are we going to take; what kind of prophet, tree, or builder are we going to be? Jesus’s or the other guy’s? Now, at this point, we all know which gate, path, prophet, tree, and builder belongs to Jesus. His is the “straight and narrow,” the true prophet, the good fruit, the wise builder. But whose gate, path, prophet, tree, and builder is the other choice, the opposite of Jesus, the way we shouldn’t take? If Jesus was essentially standing before the crowd saying, “Follow me, don’t follow them,” then who are “them,” the false prophets, the bad fruit, the way that is broad and leads to destruction? It’s the scribes and the Pharisees. Jesus made it plain from the beginning: “Unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matt 5:20). The foil of Jesus’s Sermon, the contrasting way of his kingdom, is the very people who were supposed to know righteousness best—a crucial observation to make as we have ears to hear the majestic Sermon on the Mount.
Blessed Are the Cursed
Given the makeup of the crowd around Jesus—the poor, the oppressed, the marginalized, the sick and lame—the first words out of Jesus’s mouth should have been, “Cursed are you.” That’s because everyone knew—and the Pharisees were the teachers who reminded the people—that those who disobey God’s law are cursed with diseases, famine, exile, and foreign oppressors, while those who obey are blessed with health and abundance in the land (Deut 28:20–52, 58–68; 30:1–20). The logic of working backward, from effect to cause, revealed that Israel in general and the diseased, displaced, and impoverished in particular were cursed by God because they violated his commandments. That’s one of the reasons why the Pharisees emphasized complete obedience to God’s law. Righteousness was not optional. If Israel would ever see God’s kingdom come—throwing out the Romans, gathering the elect, healing the diseased, restoring the land—the people would need to learn the lesson spelled out so well in Deuteronomy. It was their choice: obey God and be blessed; disobey God and be punished. It must have been apparent to nearly everyone that the cursed who gathered around Jesus that day were spiritually impoverished rebels.
These people—the poor, the mourners, the meek, the hungry, the persecuted—must have been shocked to hear Jesus pronounce them “blessed.” The evidence of their blessing, according to Jesus, was the arrival of the kingdom of heaven, the promise of a better future. Now, those who had just been healed or exorcized could have shouted a hearty “amen!” to Jesus’s claim. But to most, the Beatitudes must have sounded like a pipe dream. The hungry will be filled? The lamenters won’t mourn anymore? The poor will be rich in the kingdom?10 The meek will inherit the land? That wasn’t true of their world (the rich, strong, healthy, and powerful made sure of that). Besides, Jesus never explains how these things will come true. To climb a mountain and claim all of these blessings have come true must have sounded presumptuous, even delusional (“he acts like he’s Moses!”). But, hold on. Jesus wasn’t making this stuff up. As any good cross-reference Bible will reveal, practically all the Beatitudes come from the Old Testament (in order of the eight sayings: Isa 61:1; Isa 61:2; Ps 37:11; Isa 55:1–2; Prov 11:17; Ps 24:4–5; Ps 34:14; there is no Old Testament promise of blessing for the persecuted11). And it’s especially the passage from Isaiah 61 that seems to have inspired Jesus’s Sermon—timing as well as content. Having just been fully immersed by the “Spirit of the Lord,” Jesus came to bring relief, “good news to the poor,” and “release from darkness for the prisoners” just as Isaiah predicted he would (61:1). So when Jesus pronounced these people “blessed,” he was simply claiming the promises of God.12
Yet what was “the blessing”?13 Was Jesus speaking like a Jewish philosopher, finding blessing in the virtues themselves, much like what was taught in Wisdom literature (Sir 19:20; cf. Jas 1:25)? In other words, was Jesus teaching his disciples they should find blessing in recognizing their spiritual poverty, their need for humility, and their hunger for righteousness?14 Or should the emphasis of the Beatitudes fall on the blessings that will be realized in the future? So Jesus wasn’t saying, “You’re poor. Deal with it. Can’t you find the good in poverty?” Rather, the blessings are to be found in the promises that will come true on the last day: inheriting the land, being comforted, being filled, and seeing the kingdom of heaven come to earth. If that’s the case, Jesus was talking like an apocalyptic prophet: “It’s bad now. But one day it will get better, very soon. So hold on.”15 Or is the truth somewhere in the middle? On this reading, Jesus was laying down what it takes for Israel to begin to realize the kingdom of God. In other words, the Beatitudes are ethical requirements for entering the kingdom, disguised as blessings—a sort of halfway house between apocalyptic hope and pearls of wisdom.16 It would be as if Jesus were saying, “Those who humble themselves—truly repent—will inherit kingdom blessings now and then.”17
The reason it’s difficult to decide what Jesus was claiming in the Beatitudes is that some of them sound like wise sayings extolling the virtues of the righteous: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God” (Matt 5:8). “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled” (v. 6). “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy” (v. 7). Other beatitudes sound like predictions of eschatological reversal: “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” (v. 5). “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (v. 4). “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (v. 3). And finally, some sound like a blending of both, the realization of blessings dependent upon a probable future: “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (v. 10)—especially if we see v. 11 as further explanation (Jesus’s disciples certainly hadn’t experienced such persecution). “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” (v. 9)—like persecution, peacemaking hasn’t happened yet. It’s no wonder, then, that many scholars either choose one approach and try to shoehorn the other beatitudes into the glass slipper,18 or they organize the eight beatitudes around other categories: vertical relationship/disposition toward God/humility (vv. 3–6), horizontal relationship/demeanor toward others/justice (vv. 7–10).19 Of course, regardless of their approach scholars stress the importance of interpreting the Beatitudes in light of the entire Sermon. Taken out of context, the Beatitudes can mean just about anything. So we need to figure out why Jesus opened the Sermon with these beatitudes. Oftentimes introductions are explained by conclusions.
Blessed Are the Ones Who Follow Jesus
The way Jesus ended the Sermon reveals his intent; he was trying to make disciples of the crowd:20 “Enter through the narrow gate” (Matt 7:13). The cursed were drawn to him because of the miracles he performed. It’s one thing to talk about the reign of God as “blessings”; it’s quite something else to make it happen: “Blessed are you.” But, it’s not just what Jesus can do for you that matters: “Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God” (4:4). Jesus was looking for disciples—those who had ears to hear God’s word—to join him in bringing the kingdom of heaven to earth, to “do to others what you would have them do to you” (7:12). They were to hear from him and see in him what the kingdom of heaven should look like on earth. To follow Jesus, then, was to fulfill the hope of Israel to see the righteousness of God. But why him and not someone else? Wouldn’t the Pharisees—standard-bearers of righteousness—have just as much claim to direct Israel in the way they should go? Well, according to Jesus they know what is right; they just don’t do it (23:3). Jesus, on the other hand, practices what he preaches because he is the embodiment of Israel, the anointed one, the righteousness of God. Therefore, the entire Sermon—from introduction, exposition of Scripture, illustrations, to conclusion—is an invitation to follow Jesus because of the way he sees the kingdom of heaven coming to earth. It’s as much about him as what’s expected of his disciples because following him (the king) is the way of righteousness (the kingdom).
That’s why scholars see a christological focus to the Sermon.21 When Jesus stood before the crowd and began to bless the cursed, he did so knowing he was the eschatological fulfillment of God’s promise to Israel. So, the Beatitudes picture “eschatology in the process of realization,”22 the vision of Jesus for the kingdom, the embodiment of God’s righteousness dawning on Israel—the light shining in the darkness. And yet, for all Matthew has done to set up this moment, to present Jesus as the one who will make it all happen, here’s the shocker: Jesus knew he couldn’t do it by himself. This is why he preached the Sermon; from the beginning Jesus intended to extend his messianic work through his disciples. Even though we see the attributes of Christ throughout the Sermon—not only in the introduction (meek, righteous, pure in heart, merciful) but especially in the heart of the Sermon (don’t hate, turn other cheek, love enemies, don’t judge)—Jesus was also describing the kind of people who make up the kingdom, the ones who follow him: the poor in spirit, the ones who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the children of God who make peace, the ones who are persecuted because of Jesus.23 The very last beatitude—the add-on in vv. 11–12—is the most revealing reason why Jesus opened the Sermon with these sayings. The kind of people who are drawn to him (the cursed) are the very ones who are blessed and will be blessed when they follow him. These are the ideal candidates for his kingdom, the kind of people he’s looking for to help him do God’s will on earth as it is in heaven. And what is the final evidence of their discipleship, that they are truly doing the work of the kingdom? They will be persecuted because of Jesus, which means they will be persecuted just like the prophets before them.
Since Jesus put his disciples in the same category as the prophets of Israel, now the beatitudes come into clearer focus. Prophets were often considered by their contemporaries as the bane of Israel, the cursed of God, only appreciated in retrospect. Think of Jeremiah or Hosea. Both were laughingstocks, ridiculed and maligned by the people. Once their message came true, however, Israel realized their mistake (but it takes a prophet to give voice to their horror):
He was despised and rejected by mankind,
a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.
Surely he took up our pain
and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
stricken by him, and afflicted. (Isa 53:3–4)
Jesus saw his kingdom operating under the same prophetic conditions.24 Like God, Jesus sends his disciples as “blessed” messengers because they do God’s will. And like the prophets before them, Jesus predicted Israel would not take it well. Instead, these “Jesus prophets” will be maligned by the people and considered cursed by God (the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, the hungry). Nevertheless, Jesus preached that the “cursed” ones are blessed in what they are doing—righteousness/following Jesus—and will be blessed with heavenly rewards. Knowing that in advance, Jesus tells his disciples that they should “rejoice and be glad” (Matt 5:12). In fact, later when Jesus sends the Twelve to recover the lost sheep of Israel, he promises rewards to any who show his “prophets” hospitality because “anyone who welcomes you welcomes me, and anyone who welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet as a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever welcomes a righteous person as a righteous person will receive a righteous person’s reward” (Matt 10:40–41).
The people described in the Beatitudes, the disciples of Jesus, are the salt of the earth (v. 13). Since salt has so many uses, one would expect Jesus to explain what he meant by the analogy.25 But he doesn’t. Instead, he only entertains the downside of salt losing its effect, literally, “becoming moronic” (mōranthē). Since salt can’t be salted (the attempt is just as foolish as trying to make water wet), then “unsalty salt” is good for nothing, thrown out with the trash. It’s one thing to be persecuted for righteousness on account of Jesus. It’s quite something else to be treated like a doormat for nothing. Jesus knew his disciples would be rejected. But he wouldn’t accept the idea that his followers were worthless. Rather, he claimed his disciples were the salt of the earth—their essence is their purpose; who they are is what they do. Salt salts. Disciples disciple. Salt doesn’t exist for any other purpose, and neither do disciples. That’s the point of the metaphor, which is more clearly seen in the next analogy: those who follow Jesus are the light of the world (v. 14).
Light exists for one purpose: to light up the darkness. So too, his disciples are like a city shining on a hill (which could be a slam against Jerusalem26—imagine the laughter running through the crowd when Jesus made that claim: “You think the Pharisees and Sadducees, the scribes and the priests are righteous before God? That they are the true Israel? The ‘covenant for the people, and a light to the gentiles’ [Isa 42:6]? No! It’s people like you—the poor, the meek, the persecuted. You are blessed. You are the covenant. You are the city of God. You are the light of the world.”27) Gathered on a mountain, together these disciples shine so bright they cannot be hidden. That’s what light does. It can’t help but light up its environs. Therefore, like a lamp lighting up a dark room, Jesus’s disciples deserve to be placed on a lampstand (Matt 5:15). They may be treated like the prophets before them, rejected by Israel, thrown out like worthless salt. But they are the salt of the land, the light of the world. They are meant to shine, to light up the darkness (echoing 4:16?28). They aren’t “lit up” only to be hidden. How foolish. Jesus’s disciples must light up the world with their righteousness/their “good deeds”/following Jesus.29 Then, Jesus claims, eventually the world will see their work for what it is—good deeds/the kingdom of heaven on earth—and will glorify God, “your Father in heaven” (v. 16). Indeed, even though they will be persecuted, peacemakers will be called children of God . . . one day.
LIVE the Story
If you ask the average person, “Are you blessed?” most would say, “Yes,” and then list the typical evidence: health, family, job, home. Even individuals who are sick, experiencing family problems, or have lost their jobs or homes often point to one of the other “blessings” to maintain their claim. How often do we hear victims of tornadoes, standing in front of the wreckage they once called “home,” say, “At least we have our health and each other.” To be sure, these taken-for-granted evidences of God’s grace are blessings—especially appreciated when they are lost. What is interesting to me, however, is that none of these things make Jesus’s list of what it means to be “blessed” in the kingdom. Apparently, we don’t think like Jesus on the matter because we see “blessings” as basic requirements for our happiness. Of course, happiness depends upon favorable circumstances. When things go wrong, we are not happy about it. We want things to change. So we pursue happiness—to make our circumstances better—and when things get better, we claim we are blessed. In other words, we often operate with the presumption that blessings are meant for our happiness. But Jesus didn’t see it that way at all; blessings are more important than that.30
For the May 30, 1991 issue of Rolling Stone magazine, Mikal Gilmore interviewed Bob Dylan. The article, “Bob Dylan at Fifty,” had for its byline the teaser: “Happiness is not on my list of priorities. Anyone can be happy.” Toward the end of the article, Gilmore reveals what Dylan meant:
I asked him, Did he think he was a happier man these days than twenty years earlier?
“Oh, man, I’ve never even thought about that,” Dylan said, laughing. “Happiness is not on my list of priorities. I just deal with day-to-day things. If I’m happy, I’m happy—and if I’m not, I don’t know the difference.” He fell silent for a few moments and stared at his hands. “You know,” he said, “these are yuppie words, happiness and unhappiness. It’s not happiness or unhappiness, it’s either blessed or unblessed. As the Bible says, ‘Blessed is the man who walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly.’ Now, that must be a happy man. Knowing that you are the person you were put on this earth to be—that’s much more important than just being happy.
“Anyway, happiness is just a balloon—it’s just temporary stuff. Anybody can be happy, and if you’re not happy, they got a lot of drugs that can make you happy. But trust me: Life is not a bowl of cherries.”31
Of course, the privileged life of a rock star isn’t a compelling place to sort out the difference between “happiness or unhappiness . . . blessed or unblessed.” What does Dylan have to complain about? (For that matter, what do I have to complain about?) Nevertheless, his astute observation stands. He gets it. For all our “pursuit of happiness,” life can be incredibly vapid without a higher purpose, without “knowing that you are the person you were put on this earth to be.” And, according to Jesus the only purpose, the only way to “be blessed,” is to follow him, to be a blessing, to live for the kingdom of God. That’s why Jesus believed people needed to repent, to change their minds about what it means to be blessed, to see the kingdom of heaven come to earth through those who are considered “cursed”—people who are surely “unhappy” according to our standards.
I’ve often wondered what the Beatitudes would be according to the Pharisees. Of course, it would be easy to create the list of beatitudes according to the priorities of our culture. Think of whom we champion as our heroes: “Blessed are the rich. Blessed are the famous. Blessed are the powerful. Blessed are the beautiful.” We Christians scoff at such vanities; we know the ways of the world leave you empty. Yet Jesus didn’t offer the Beatitudes as a critique of the pagan world. Rather, he was challenging the conventional wisdom of his own people.32 So, what would the Pharisees—the epitome of righteousness—list as quintessential to receiving the blessings of God? Moreover, in light of what Christians prize as God’s blessing, would we find their beatitudes more appealing than Jesus’s list? Indeed, if we were to agree with the Pharisees, this is what Jesus should have said:
Blessed are the rich in spirit, for theirs is the favor of God (Matt 23:2, 6–7).
Blessed are those who grieve over their sin, for they shall be forgiven (9:2–3).
Blessed are those who fast for righteousness’s sake, for they shall be approved (9:14).
Blessed are the zealous, for they stand up for what is right (12:1–2).
Blessed are the pure, for they will avoid God’s wrath (22:15–17).
Blessed are those who judge rightly, for they shall be judged righteous (9:10–11).
Blessed are the guardians of tradition, for they shall be called the defenders of God (15:1–2).
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of holiness, for theirs is the favor of God (15:12–14).
“Happy” may be a yuppie word, but “blessed” is the language of the righteous. And Jesus’s beatitudes should make us all reconsider—to rethink, to repent, to change our minds about—who is truly blessed by God.
The Beatitudes describe a group of people—those who follow Jesus—who know we need each other to be blessed. None of us can be blessed by ourselves. We all need to be comforted. We all need to be filled. We trust that the meek will inherit the earth together. We believe the persecuted will realize the kingdom together. We must show mercy to others. We must seek peace for others. No man is a city. No woman is the light. I can’t follow Jesus by myself. It takes every single one of us together to realize the blessings of God, to be the salt of the earth, to light up the whole world, to see the kingdom of heaven come to earth through Jesus Christ.
1. Garland, Reading Matthew, 49–50. The word used to describe epileptics (selēniazomenous) means something like “moonstruck,” similar to our “lunatic.” The Romans believed uncontrolled seizures had something to do with the moon’s effect on certain people; Jews attributed the malady to demonic oppression. See France, Matthew, 659–60n10.
2. Garland, Reading Matthew, 50.
3. Luz, Matthew, 1:176–77.
4. For the fullest explanation of the Moses typology, see Dale C. Allison Jr., The New Moses: A Matthean Typology (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1993), 137–270.
5. McKnight, Sermon on the Mount, 21–24.
6. Many scholars see the Sermon as a collection of Jesus’s teaching, delivered at different times and under various circumstances. That Luke has a different version of the Sermon (Luke 6:20–49), with some of the sayings sprinkled through his Gospel at different times (11:2–4, 9–13, 33–36; 12:22–34; 13:23–30; 14:34–35; 16:13) is evidence that Jesus repeated his teachings many times and in many places. The implication, then, is that the Sermon on the Mount reflects Matthew’s emphases (by gathering, arranging, structuring the Sermon) as much as what Jesus taught in one setting. See Hans Dieter Betz, The Sermon on the Mount: A Commentary on the Sermon on the Mount including the Sermon on the Plain (Matthew 5:3–7:27 and Luke 6:20–49), Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1995), 1–5, 44–66, 88.
7. “Righteousness is a prominent theme (5:10, 20; 6:1, 33)” (Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:452).
8. So also McKnight: “These blessings of Jesus are not directed at ethical attributes . . . nor is this a virtue list by which to measure our moral progress. Instead, these blessings are heaped on people groups who are otherwise rejected by society” (Sermon on the Mount, 33 [emphasis his]).
9. McKnight, Sermon on the Mount, 19–21.
10. Commentators (esp. patristics and Reformation) see Jesus’s qualification of the poor in Matthew’s version, that is, poor “in spirit,” as pertaining only to spiritual matters; see Luz, Matthew, 1:190–93; Nolland, Matthew, 198–200. But in Jesus’s world, to separate economic reality from spiritual problems would be considered nonsense. The fact that Israel was suffering under “exilic” conditions undeniably proved the absence of God’s blessing, that is, spiritual poverty. When God is present, there is justice. When he is “absent,” when the poor are not experiencing the justice of God, the entire nation is spiritually impoverished, especially the wealthy (even though they refused to admit it—see the prophets, e.g., Amos 4:1–3). The poor had no doubts about their poverty. So also Nolland: “The poor in spirit will be those who sense the burden of their present (impoverished) state, and see it in terms of the absence of God; who patiently bear that state, but long for God to act on their behalf and decisively claim them again as his people” (Matthew, 200–201).
11. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:459.
12. Luke does the same thing, but in his Gospel Jesus makes the correlation more explicit, appealing directly to Isa 61:1–2 (Luke 4:16–21), which got him in big trouble with his own people (see vv. 28–30).
13. The word (makarios) is notoriously difficult to translate; it means more than “happy,” yet it was also used to describe favorable circumstances (most often due to divine approval). See the discussion in Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:431–34.
14. Turner writes: “These character traits are gracious gifts indicating God’s approval, not requirements for works that merit God’s approval” (Matthew, 147).
15. See Luz, Matthew, 1:189–90, who sees the eschatological emphasis apropos to the Sitz im Leben (“situation in life”) of Jesus.
16. Garland, Reading Matthew, 53–55; according to Luz this is the Sitz im Leben of Matthew’s readers, that is, how the Evangelist has interpreted Jesus’s teaching (Matthew, 1:187–88).
17. See Keener, Matthew, 165–67.
18. For example, Turner, Matthew, 146–47, places the Beatitudes on the horns of the dilemma, grace vs. works, and concludes that all the Beatitudes must be read together as eschatological blessings (grace). I’ve been tempted to re-arrange the beatitudes, especially vv. 8–9. Wouldn’t it make better sense if Jesus had said, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will be called children of God” (only God sees our hearts), and “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will see God” (when peace comes, it certainly looks like heaven on earth!).
19. See, for example, Talbert, Matthew, 75–78; Garland, Reading Matthew, 55–59. The problem, of course, is v. 8 belongs to the first category, and v. 6 (depending on the meaning of “righteousness,” i.e., social justice) could belong to the second category. McKnight offers three categories: humility, righteousness/justice, peace (Sermon on the Mount, 37–49).
20. Contra France, who believes the Sermon was intended only for the disciples (see Matt 5:1): “The focus of these chapters is not then the wider proclamation of the ‘good news of the kingdom’ (4:23), but the instruction of those who have already responded to that proclamation” (France, Matthew, 153).
21. “The implicit Christology of the beatitudes is remarkable” (Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:438; so also Garland, Reading Matthew, 59; McKnight, Sermon on the Mount, 13–14, 25–26).
22. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:439.
23. Chrysostom wrote: “In pronouncing them blessed, who are persecuted, and chased, and suffer all intolerable things; not for them only, but also for all who arrive at the same excellency, He weaves His crown” (Homilies, 91–92).
24. So also France, Matthew, 173.
25. See Davies and Allison for a complete list of possibilities (Matthew, 1:472–73).
26. Garland, Reading Matthew, 60. For the pros and cons of this interpretation, see Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:475.
27. So also McKnight, Sermon on the Mount, 56–57, who sees the two metaphors applied, respectively, to Israel (salt of the land) and the world (light to the nations).
28. Luz, Matthew, 1:207: “Thus the task given the disciples corresponds to the mission of Christ himself.”
29. “That to which the Matthean Jesus calls is neither private nor to be ghettoized in the Christian community” (Nolland, Matthew, 215).
30. Which is why translating the Beatitudes, “happy is the one who . . .” misses the point and misleads the reader. Jesus wasn’t talking about happenstance (from the old English word “hap,” from which we get the word “happy”).
31. Mikal Gilmore, “Bob Dylan at Fifty,” Rolling Stone, May 30, 1991, www.rollingstone.com/music/news/bob-dylan-at-fifty-19910530?page=3. I heard about this interview through the backstory to the song, “Happy is a Yuppie Word,” written by Jon Foreman (Switchfoot), who was inspired by Dylan’s prophetic observation.
32. “Instead of congratulating the Torah observant or the rigorously faithful or heroic, he blesses the marginalized who stick with God through injustice” (McKnight, Sermon on the Mount, 31).