“#Blessed”

Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

February 1, 2026

Guest Preacher: Ryan Dudney

Micah 6:1-8

Matthew 5:1-12

 So who here has ever had a conversation where you think you understand each other, but then you realize that, even though you’re using the same words, it’s like you’re speaking totally different languages?

There’s this weird thing that happens with words and meaning. A word may be the same, but its implications can shift. And this usually happens subtly, over time… both in society and in our individual lives.

Take the word “dating,” for instance… If you looked it up, you’d read something like—dating is a process in which two people, who are attracted to one another, spend time together, during planned activities, to cultivate romance and assess compatibility.

Before we got engaged, my wife and I spent a lot of time together… during planned activities… We were attracted to each other, the romance was growing, etc. This one time, early on, we went out to dinner, and our server ended up being someone we both knew. The last time she’d seen us, though, we were only friends. So when she saw us holding hands across the table, she got excited and said, “Oh my gosh! Are you guys dating now?” I kid you not, at the exact same moment, I said, “Yes!” and my wife said, “No.”

Clearly, we were operating from very different definitions of the same word.

Thankfully, my zealous little assumption didn’t derail anything, and now it’s actually one of our favorite stories. But it also illustrates my point…

It’s almost as if words are like lint rollers… As they roll through history, they collect things. Expectations, past experiences, stigma, even emotions get stuck to them. And because of that, their more objective meanings get fuzzy.

And that’s exactly what Jesus is addressing here as he tries to reclaim the go-to expression of car bumpers and Christian businesses across modern America—“blessed.”

In the original Greek, that word is “makarios.” It most literally means divine love and favor; a feeling of deep honor and esteem given to someone from on high. But again, it isn’t the definition that’s problematic, it’s what’s gotten stuck to it—and in this case, it has to do with the way we assume God shows that kind of love and favor.

Sadly, we haven’t come very far since the first century in that regard. Blessed is stuck to more than bumpers these days. Just walk through a Hobby Lobby or scroll on social media and you’ll see it on pillows, picture frames, wall art, and coffee mugs… not to mention countless comments about health, promotions, sports victories, and price cuts—It’s almost as if a definitive sign of God’s involvement in human affairs is a free latte or a front-row parking spot.

At the end of the day, our unspoken assumptions come through loud and clear… When life works out, we feel like God is present and smiling, but when things fall apart, we wonder where God went. Both then and now, people have used “blessed” to try and chain together divine providence… and good fortune.

And we’re all guilty of this to some degree. I’m willing to bet no one here has ever posted, “I can barely afford groceries this week! hashtag blessed!” Or said, “I’m feeling so deeply esteemed and honored by God,” at a funeral… Or celebrated divine favor as you watched the news, longing for a day when cruelty and outrage are no longer the only headlines.

And that’s why the beatitudes are so destabilizing when you really think about them. They only give us two options… Either Jesus doesn’t understand what blessing looks like, or we don’t.

Because his understanding of blessing was definitely not what his culture had been taught to believe—and it doesn’t really seem to be what we’ve been taught to believe either. But if I’ve learned anything about the gospels, it’s that one of the easiest ways to misinterpret them is to assume Jesus is trying to affirm and encourage people’s assumptions and values, rather than exposing and correcting them…

Now, before we go any further, I want to share with you something else I’ve learned… In addition to studying the literary context of a book, this is another tool that can totally reshape the way we read and interpret scripture… Whenever we come to a text, we need to ask three simple questions… These questions actually underpin the entire Bible, and they’re basically the same questions all its authors were wrestling with as they recorded their thoughts and experiences.

The first question is: What is this trying to tell us about what God might be like? The second is: What is it trying to tell us about what God might be doing in the world? And the third is: What might that mean for human beings?

The beatitudes address all three. And that’s our key to understanding what Jesus was likely intending to communicate.

Take the phrase, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” for example… Now, I should mention that in Luke’s account, he only says “the poor,” but in 1st-century Israel, that distinction wouldn’t have mattered. Life wasn’t divided into “spiritual” and “non-spiritual” categories the way it is today. Back then, “poor in spirit” referred to holistic bankruptcy, total dependence, like an orphaned newborn. It was used for people of an extremely lowly status, which, in our terms, would have included both the spiritual and the physical… Wealth was absent, achievement was absent, social standing was absent, religious connection and community support was absent; sometimes even health was absent. And for many in the Greco-Roman period, those were sure signs that God was absent.

So how could Jesus justify the claim that the fullness of God’s love and favor, and even the entire kingdom itself, belonged to those people? Well, it’s pretty straightforward if you’re familiar with his teachings. Later on in Matthew, he states that “It’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom.” Not because poverty is intrinsically virtuous, but because the root of corruption is found in the love and pursuit of wealth and status… In the idols of power and pleasure, comfort and control.

In contrast, he consistently paints the kingdom as something that can never be bought, never be stolen, and has never been subject to entitlement… Rather, it’s something that is gifted… Endowed by a divine parent to their children as an act of love and trust. And when you have nothing to leverage, nothing to falsely identify with, nothing to protect, and nothing to distract you, there’s nothing to stand in the way of receiving that inheritance or experiencing the immense gratitude that comes with it.

And that answers our three questions… It tells us that God is one who esteems, honors, loves, and favors even those who have nothing… And that idea naturally raises the status of the lowly, which in turn humbles the proud, so that all of us might learn that genuine love isn’t based on what we bring to the table, but simply on who we are to the other.

Jesus then ups the ante by including “those who are mourning.” And that one makes even less sense if you’re trying to measure blessing by circumstances. But Jesus isn’t claiming that grief is a good thing, or even that we should aspire to feel that way if we want God to love us. Once again, he’s unveiling something about the character of God and their relationship to humanity.

According to Jesus, God doesn’t retaliate against sin by destroying the things we love. Rather, he embodies a God who mourns destruction even more than we do! He shows us that one of God’s primary objectives has always been to comfort their hurting and misguided children by working in them and through them to bring consolation to the whole world…

Because all people suffer loss… Mourning is one of the great equalizers. But that means it can also be a path to solidarity—both with one another and also with God. And that itself is a sign of blessing. Again, not the feeling of grief, but the fact that God both honors and shares in our experiences of grief… Which means that even in the midst of the worst possible scenarios, God is still with us, and for us.

Next, Jesus mentions the “gentle”… Or as most translations put it, “meek.” The Greek word is “praus.” But it doesn’t mean passive or weak; it more accurately refers to an authority that intentionally refrains from using force and coercion to subjugate people. That also tells us something about the character and mission of God in the world because, according to Jesus, God also refuses to use their power to dominate. And that’s why those who lead with compassion, empathy, and restraint; who serve; and who understand the value of self-sacrifice are the people to whom God entrusts the land.

Notice the pattern yet? See, we have to be careful, because if we read the beatitudes as if Jesus is simply rearranging who’s on one side of the line and who’s on the other—or as a prescriptive list of moral conditions we need to imitate to become blessed—we’ll miss his point entirely. Even worse, we’ll fall into the same polarizing trap he was trying to rebuke.

Because Jesus isn’t making value judgments about those who have it good vs. those who don’t. He’s actually dismantling the entire idea that divine love and favor ever had anything to do with those concepts in the first place. He’s exposing the fact that we’re the ones who’ve been drawing the lines. We’re the ones who judge and marginalize others based on ridiculous criteria. And we’re the ones who’ve been jumping to conclusions about the meaning of our own experiences, either blaming God or shaming ourselves when things don’t go our way.

And so Jesus subverts all of that… To those who think they’re esteemed by God above others, he says: That assumption is blinding you to a bigger and better reality. And to those who think they’re being punished or rejected by God, he says: Divine love and favor has always been yours, and you have a crucial role to play in the coming of the kingdom.

He shatters the cultural paradigms, declaring that divine favor is just as present in times of suffering as it is in times of joy; that God sends the sun and the nourishing rain to all, those who do right and those who’ve gone astray. And when we understand that, our present circumstances stop being a litmus test of divine endorsement, and they start becoming opportunities for us to remember our inherent belovedness, and then reorient ourselves and extend that same love to others.

Ultimately, the beatitudes are yet another way Jesus tears down the social, political, economic, and religious borders that we continually allow to come between us.

And that’s why he mentions those who “hunger and thirst for justice”—not fairness, not retribution, but restoration… An ardent desire to see the fractures of humanity mended, reconciled. They’re blessed too… Because again, the God Jesus represents is also parched for a world like that… For a lasting reunion between us and our truest selves as divine image bearers; between ourselves and others as one divine family; between humanity and nature as our sacred stewardship; and between us and God’s own regenerating breath that helps us to reshape and repair all that we’ve bent and broken.

It makes sense, then, that he also includes the merciful. Why? Because according to Jesus, God’s primary posture toward even the most wayward of their children is one of persistent mercy. And whenever we also adopt that posture, we’re participating in the same scandalous grace. It’s not that we’re purchasing forgiveness for ourselves; it’s that we’re aligning ourselves with God to such a degree that our entire reality begins to transform, both inside and out, toward ourselves and toward each other.

And that brings us to those whose hearts are “clean”… That word is “katharos,” and it means unobscured or unblocked. It isn’t religious piety or moral perfection, but an inner sight that is clear and unobstructed, one that seeks the divine. And if that lens isn’t foggy or fractured, then it stands to reason that we will be able to “opsontai”—see, or even better, perceive, God everywhere we look.

And finally, Jesus mentions those who “work for peace”—That’s not the same as peace-keeping or conflict avoiding, it refers to those who actively and compassionately strive for harmony and wholeness. Because that’s God’s business too… And if that’s what God is like, then that’s what we should be like. And in a culture where the children eventually took over the family business, it makes perfect sense that the peacemakers would be named as God’s heirs despite the pervasive belief that conquering enemies was a sure sign of heavenly approval.

But then, why would his listeners need to be reminded that peacemaking is honored and esteemed by God? Isn’t that obvious? Well, let me ask you this: has anyone ever tried to do it? Jesus isn’t naive. He knows exactly what can happen to us when we challenge people’s hatred… Or when we get in the way of violence. And it can get even worse when we also advocate for love and mercy to be shown to those who call us “enemies.”

St. Teresa of Avila captured this tension perfectly. Like us, she also struggled with understanding blessing and its relationship to suffering. At one point, she even complained to God about it, saying, “Lord, if this is how you treat your friends, it’s no wonder you have so few.”

And I think that’s why Jesus sums this whole thing up by concluding that all who experience persecution because of their struggles for justice are blessed. And I don’t know about you, but I can’t think of a more relevant, or challenging, passage for today… Especially in regard to current events.

And he raises the bar even further by adding that his followers should “be glad” and “rejoice” whenever they’re abused and slandered because of “him”… And that doesn't meana because of their religious beliefs; it means because of what he’s just been saying to them, because of this teaching—because they’re impoverished and lamenting. Because they seem too tolerant, or because they don’t seek revenge, or chase status, or bow down to power and pleasure at the expense of others and the planet.

So he reminds them that this isn’t anything new, that even the prophets—those who spoke out against corruption and acted in unity with the heart and mission of God long before him—faced the same kind of opposition. And while it might not sound like it, that’s actually a hopeful message… Because once more, it assures us that suffering injustice, and suffering for justice, have never been reliable ways to measure how God feels about us.

Privilege, power, pleasure, certainty, security, comfort, and control aren’t indicators of divine honor and esteem… Likewise, scarcity, grief, longing, inability, illness, and anguish are not evidence of divine punishment or rejection.

And while that might not make us feel happy, or even safe, it is good news. Because it means that if you came here today feeling downcast, anxious, confused, or angry… Wondering where God is in all of this… Jesus’ words are for you too… Blessed are the baffled and the discombobulated… The angsty and the ineffectual… The fed-up and the fearful… We are all deeply loved, greatly esteemed, and highly favored by our Creator, and we can entrust ourselves to that, not because of the way things are going in life, but because that is the posture of a good parent’s heart toward their children, regardless of the circumstances.

So maybe we can shift the way we think about blessing from now on; not as a sanctimonious hashtag or a celebration of good luck, but as a core human state… And with it, an invitation to clearly perceive what God is like and what God is doing so that we can join in the same persistent mercy, active compassion, restorative justice, and unconditional inclusivity for the good of all things, regardless of what happens to us…

Because as Paul so brilliantly put it in his letter to the Romans… Even in the worst of our suffering, we are more than victors through the divine love that we have now seen and experienced in Christ…

A love so profound that neither empires nor armies… Not the past, the present, or the future… Nor any principality, power, height, or depth… Not even life and death itself… Nothing in all of creation can ever separate us from it… Amen.