Teresa describes the journey thus: “We had to run many dangers. At no part of the road were the risks greater than within a few leagues of Burgos, at a place called Los Pontes. The rivers were so high that the water in places covered everything, neither road nor the smallest footpath could be seen, only water everywhere, and two abysses on each side. It seemed foolhardiness to advance, especially in a carriage, for if one strayed ever so little off the road (then invisible), one must have perished.” The saint is silent on her share of the adventure, but her companions relate that, seeing their alarm, she turned to them and encouraged them, saying that “as they were engaged in doing God’s work, how could they die in a better cause?” She then led the way on foot. The current was so strong that she lost her footing, and was on the point of being carried away when our Lord sustained her. “Oh, my Lord!” she exclaimed, with her usual loving familiarity, “when wilt Thou cease from scattering obstacles in our path?” “Do not complain, daughter,” the Divine Master answered, “for it is ever thus that I treat My friends.” “Ah, Lord, it is also on that account that Thou hast so few!” was her reply.
(From The Life of St. Teresa [of Ávila], a 1912 translation by Alice Lady Lovat “taken from the French of ‘A Carmelite’ Nun,” page 548, describing a journey taken in 1582, the last year of her life.)
I think of St. Teresa’s words every time I encounter The Beatitudes, whether here in Matthew (5:1-12) or in Luke (6:20-23). The “blessed” are a sorry lot, in the eyes of the world: the poor in spirit; those who mourn; the meek; those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; the merciful; the pure in heart; the peacemakers; those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake; those revile, persecuted, and slandered on account of their relationship with Jesus. I am quite sure that these folks do not feel “blessed.”
Yet, it is worth noting that the description “blessed” is in the future tense – they will be blessed. Note also that the Greek is in the indicative not the imperative – these words comfort folks as they are now, rather than serve as a call to become something (poor in spirit, etc.). And finally, notice that there is no concept here of gaining a cash reward in the here-and-now – this is not the Prosperity Gospel – but is instead a promise that God’s sovereignty/God’s reign (in other words, God’s kingdom, or as Matthew puts it, the kingdom of heaven) is for precisely the people that the world dismisses, avoids, marginalizes, ignores, undervalues: the meek, merciful, etc. This is a Gospel for real, broken, hurting people. This is good news for folks desperately in need of good news!
So, however else this text is interpreted, it is for you! Yes, it may be a continuation of Matthew’s parallelism of Jesus as the new Moses, now extending to Jesus giving a new Torah from the mountain top. It may reflect Matthew connecting Jesus with Isaiah’s promises – in this case Isaiah 61 – but now spoken not to an Israel just returned from exile, but to an Israel that is still under the yoke of an evil empire. Or perhaps Matthew is revealing Jesus as the one speaking Isaiah’s words, and indeed personifying those words – that promise – in himself. (I have borrowed heavily from several biblical commentaries here.)
However, do not lose sight of the powerful promise in the Beatitudes. The world may have washed its hands of you, but God in Christ Jesus most certainly has not. You are seen, your plight is known, you are dear to God’s heart. In God’s kingdom, you will be blessed.
