Blessed

We've got it all wrong, I tell you!

He was breathless, winded. It seemed as if he had run all the way back from...well, from wherever he had been. He had the sort of look in his eyes that said something important, something radical had happened to him. I looked up at him, but didn't say anything.

Did you hear what I said? We've got it all wrong!

I guess I wasn't going to get off that easily. So I asked what he was talking about.

Being blessed. We've got it all wrong.

I just stared at him. I knew if I waited, he would go on. Once he got started, he was hard to stop.

Being blessed. We think it's about having everything go right, or getting what we want. We think it's about having lots of money, power or influence. But, I'm telling you, we've got it all wrong.

Yes, I said. You mentioned that. Are you going to tell me what you're talking about?

Well, I was out by the lake, and I heard him talking. And he was describing what real blessing is all about. I tell you, I've never heard anything like that, and I've never seen anyone who spoke with the sort of authority he does.

Him who?

Jesus. That preacher who's living over in Capernaum. He was talking to a bunch of people out by the lake, and I overheard him. Then I moved closer so I could really listen. He talked about the poor being blessed, and the mourners, and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. He even said when the people persecute us—like when the Romans come to town and take our stuff or try to make us worship their gods—then we should rejoice and be glad. He said the kingdom of God belongs to these people, not the ones we think it normally does.

That's crazy talk.

I thought so, too, at first. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized what it means.

I thought he would go on, but this time he didn't. I guess he was waiting for me to ask what it meant, so finally I did.

It means you and me can be blessed! It means those of us who are on the bottom side of life have a chance to be blessed by God! It's not just about the important people down in Jerusalem, or even the wealthy landowners up here. Jesus seems to think that even you and I can be blessed.

I just stared at him for a long time, neither of us saying anything. I sort of lost track of what I was doing.

Do you know what this means?

I nodded. Yes, I knew what it meant. If people believed that—well, that sort of talk could start a revolution. Blessed are the poor? Blessed are the meek? Blessed are the merciful? Blessed might be...me? We've got it all wrong!