You Are Blessed!

Luke 6:20–23

20 Looking at his disciples, he said:
“Blessed are you who are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.
21 Blessed are you who hunger now,
for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.
22 Blessed are you when people hate you,
when they exclude you and insult you
and reject your name as evil,
because of the Son of Man.
23 “Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their ancestors treated the prophets.

You Are Blessed!

Jesus always seemed to have a bit of an odd group of followers. For one thing, there were his twelve apostles, the specially chosen few… made up of hotheads, social outcasts, and common fishermen. Not the types you would expect to gain much influence or authority.

But it was more than just those twelve. Jesus was frequently surrounded by types that most people don’t want to think about, let alone mingle with—the poor, the sick, the demon-possessed, the outsiders.

That’s exactly the type of crowd that Jesus and his apostles encountered one day—the same day the twelve were officially chosen, their first day on the job. A swarm of people, some of them disciples but many more who had come from days away to hear Jesus teach and to be healed by him. And they weren’t disappointed—Luke says that everyone jockeyed just for a chance to touch him,“because power was coming from him and healing them all.”[1]

The disciples had to be awestruck by this show of power and popularity. If this is what followers of Jesus could expect, especially his inner circle, they had a happy life to look forward to.

But as their eyes were fixed on the display in front of them, Jesus fixed his eyes on his disciples—and burst their bubble. They would be blessed, but not for the reason they were thinking.

Looking at his disciples, he said: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.”[2]

You with empty pockets, empty stomachs, empty hearts: you are blessed. This is what Jesus proclaims to a crowd of disciples, some of whom had just quit their day jobs to follow a traveling rabbi. You are fortunate, happy, privileged, enviable, even—someone who has been favoured by God himself.

This is what he proclaims to you. Blessed are you who count every dollar, who face heaps of unexpected bills, who feel a spike of dread when the car makes yet another new sound.

Blessed are you who make leftovers last another day—because they have to; who take less so others can have enough, who pray the cost of groceries at checkout isn’t as high as you think it will be.

Blessed are you who feel the overwhelming pressure of your responsibilities, creeping into every corner of your life; who feel unfulfilled, or unnoticed, or unwanted. You who feel a hole in your heart where someone you love used to be. You who wrestle with a guilty conscience, who feel crushed by the knowledge that what was done can’t be undone. You who hold it together all day, only to break at night when the house is dark and quiet.

If we were to come up with a word to describe people who are poor, needy, and sorrowful, we would sooner pick “cursed” than “blessed.” Not favoured by God, but forgotten by him. If I never had to worry about any of those things, then I would call myself fortunate and happy. If I could live like a king for the rest of my life, that would be a status I’d call enviable. Not this.

But that’s not how Jesus sees things. He calls you blessed—not because of what you have. But because of what he gave up. Because of what he gives you.

Jesus isn’t looking down at us from his ivory tower of ignorance, offering empty sympathies for a life that looks nothing like his own. It was no accident that Jesus was always surrounded by the poor, hungry, and sorrowful. All those conditions we’d go to every length to avoid, he intentionally sought out. He became like us, so that he could change our cursed status in this dying world, forever.

For you who are poor, Jesus became poor—a humble servant of all, lacking even a place to lay his head, dying a criminal’s death, “…so that you through his poverty might become rich.”[3] So that he could pay off your debt of sins with his priceless blood, and replace your ruined rags with his robes of righteousness as a fellow heir of the King. Blessed are you, for yours is the kingdom of God.

For you who hunger now, Jesus became hungry—bound to the same bodily needs as you are, yet willing to go without food or sleep or comfort for the sake of his rescue mission: “My food,” Jesus said, “is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work.”[4] So that when you eat and drink his body and blood, sacrificed for you, you taste full forgiveness. So that you are guaranteed a permanent place at the heavenly banquet. Blessed are you, for you will be satisfied.

For you who weep now, “Jesus wept.”[5] His heart ached for his broken-hearted friends, and his soul was “overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death”[6] in the hours leading up to his betrayal and execution. Yet he went uncomplaining to the cross, so that your sadness would turn to joy and laughter in the new heaven and new earth. So that he could wipe away every tear from your eyes, promising you that “There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”[7] Blessed are you, for you will laugh.

You are blessed. As much as we look forward to our heavenly home, you don’t have to wait until then to receive the status Jesus gives you. Every Sunday morning, every time you open the Word and hear about God’s presence and protection and preservation, about the salvation his Son has won for you, Jesus looks straight into your eyes and declares what you are: Blessed, Loved and Favoured by God, Saved by God’s grace, Saint.

Today, the church celebrates All Saints’ Day, acknowledging that despite our present circumstances, we are blessed saints, a people loved, forgiven, and made holy by God. Your status as a saint may not bring you power and influence in this life—but it does assure you of the stamina Christ provides to endure the struggles of this oh-so-temporary world. Because nothing can separate you from the one who calls you blessed.

That doesn’t mean that the devil and this dying world won’t still try to. For all these promises of our blessedness, Jesus continues with the difficulties of our present reality:

“Blessed are you when people hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man.”[8]

Your status as a blessed saint is not only unseen and invisible in this world, it’s inverted in the eyes of the world. Everyone at least feels pity for those who have it worse, for the poor, hungry, and depressed. But you won’t find much sympathy for Christians from outside of the church. Far more often, Christians are labeled as part of what’s wrong with the world—they’re intolerant, ignorant, or bigoted. They may even call us “saints”—but they mean more that we think ourselves “holier than thou,” not that we’ve been made holy by our gracious God.

The thought of facing rejection and insults for our faith can be intimidating, especially when it might come from people we care about. And we do our best to live peaceful lives and show the truth of God’s love to everyone. But when conflict and persecution find us anyway, as Scripture assures us it will, Jesus teaches us exactly how we can respond:

“Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their ancestors treated the prophets.”[9]

“Jump for joy!” Jesus says. “Think of how they treated the prophets!” The way he says it makes it sound like we would want to be like the prophets of the Old Testament. Except, you couldn’t find a less-desirable job in the world than a prophet of God in ancient Israel. When God’s people rebelled and turned to idols, the prophet had to be the one to enter the lions’ den and tell them the lastthing they wanted to hear. They were hated, excluded, insulted, and, almost inevitably, murdered by their own people.

The Second Reading for today lists more examples: “They were put to death by stoning; they were sawed in two; they were killed by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated.”[10]

That’s even worse than before! I’d much rather be poor and still loved than rich and hated by all. And yet still Jesus calls us blessed—that we can jump for joy when we’re hated, excluded, insulted, and cursed by the world for the sake of being followers of Christ.

Jesus says you are blessed… because even when the world rejects you for your faith… God doesn’t. The world considered the prophets worthless, a pest to be wiped out—but God says, “The world was not worthy of them.”[11]

When your faith leads you to honour God’s view of marriage and sex, at the cost of a relationship; or to practice self-discipline instead of “letting loose” on the weekend with your friends; or to show forgiveness to someone who has done nothing to deserve it; you may set yourself up for isolation and insults. But no matter what it may cost you, Jesus says you can jump for joy, “because great is your reward in heaven.”[12]

Blessed are you when you are persecuted because of the Son of Man. Because just like the prophets, you know you have a Saviour who was hated, excluded, insulted, and cursed by the very people he came to save—and yet he wouldn’t let that break his commitment to saving them, and you. The Son of Man suffered the scorn of the world, so that you and the prophets and the apostles and all believers of all time would be presented to God as his dear people—their status as blessed saints no longer hidden, but on full display, as unmistakable and radiant as a bride on her wedding day. Rejoice and jump for joy, because the Name the world hates is the same Name that promises to reward you far beyond anything this world can do to you.

On this All Saints’ Day, as you fix your eyes on Jesus, may you find stamina in your hidden-yet-certain status of sainthood. Not because your status erases the challenges in your life, but because you are blessed—poor and lowly, yet wrapped in royal robes of righteousness. Hungry now, yet fully satisfied by free forgiveness. Tearful now, yet comforted by the knowledge that death has been defeated. Even hated now, yet loved by your God who promises you a great reward in heaven, where he will dwell with you and all his saints forever. Rejoice and jump for joy, because you are blessed. Amen.

[1] Luke 6:19

[2] Luke 6:20-21

[3] 2 Corinthians 8:9

[4] John 4:34

[5] John 11:35

[6] Matthew 26:38

[7] Revelation 21:4

[8] Luke 6:22

[9] Luke 6:23

[10] Hebrews 11:37

[11] Hebrews 11:38

[12] Luke 6:23

Are You Really Jesus' Disciple?

John 8:31-36

31 To the Jews who had believed him, Jesus said, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. 32 Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

33 They answered him, “We are Abraham’s descendants and have never been slaves of anyone. How can you say that we shall be set free?”

34 Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, everyone who sins is a slave to sin. 35 Now a slave has no permanent place in the family, but a son belongs to it forever. 36 So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”

Are You Really Jesus' Disciple?

“To the Jews who had believed him.”[1] If you were to read those 7 words in English, you’d have to think things were going well for Jesus. This was his whole mission – to preach to his own people, the Jews, so that they would believe him. To read these 7 words, you’d think that’s what was happening.

But what Jesus says to these Jews tells us something else: “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples.”[2] One word from Jesus sets the whole tone of this passage – really. Which implies that even though these Jews had believed in Jesus, they weren’t really his disciples. And what follows proves it.

Jesus promised that his true disciples would know the truth and that the truth would set them free. It sounds good! Who doesn’t like freedom? I’m sure these Jews did, but I’m equally as sure that they didn’t appreciate his implication. If Jesus was offering them freedom, then that implied that they didn’t currently possess it, which is what they say: “We are Abraham’s descendants and have never been slaves of anyone. How can you say that we shall be set free?”[3]

You don’t have to know much Bible history to know that what these Jews say to Jesus is 100%, patently false. The Jews had been slaves several times since Abraham’s day. They spent 400 years enslaved to the Egyptians. They were conquered by the Babylonians and carried off into captivity for a generation. And that’s not even to mention the current Roman occupation of Israel!

And yet, you can probably imagine the “Yeah, but”s, can’t you? “Yeah, but we still live in Jerusalem.” “Yeah, but we still worship in the Temple.” “Yeah, but we still have a Jewish High Priest… I think.” “Yeah, but the Romans are everywhere; we have it as good as anybody else does.”

These Jews, who had believed in Jesus – who had started off well – fell off in a hurry because of their own self-delusion and because of their complete reliance on anything and everything other than Jesus, whether it was their ancestry or their lifestyle or their rights or privileges. Whatever it was, they preferred relying on themselves or their circumstances more than on Jesus as their Saviour.

And Jesus is a smart guy. He could have poked a thousand holes in their argument, like I just did, but their history of slavery and the current Roman occupation of Israel just wasn’t Jesus’ concern. Their souls were. And there was a more historic, more oppressive slavery than whatever the Romans or Babylonians or Egyptians had inflicted on them. It was their slavery to sin.

And while the Jews’ response to Jesus’ offer of freedom was nothing short of delusional – not to mention a direct denial of irrefutable fact – it is understandable, if you think about it. Calling someone a slave is deeply offensive. What if someone called you a slave? You’d probably react the same way: “What are you talking about?? I’m a free Canadian. I’m a citizen, not a slave; I have rights and freedoms. I get paid for the work I do; I’m not forced to do it.” 

But listen to the way the Apostle Paul talks about our slavery to sin: Don’t you know that when you offer yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey?[4] Or this passage from Peter’s second letter: “People are slaves to whatever has mastered them.”[5]

You are slaves of the one you obey. You are slaves to whatever has mastered you. How many things in your life exercise mastery over you? How many things do you give your obedience to – either because you love it or because you’re afraid not to? Could we understand our jobs as a form of slavery in the sense that I let my job dictate my whole life? Sure, you could quit any time you wanted to, but I’ve heard smokers say the same thing. Could you understand your family as a form of slavery – that you’re willing to sacrifice everything else, that everything else gets put on hold for it? Could you say the same thing about your schooling, or your sports team, or your political interest?

And maybe you’d offer your own “Yeah, but”s: “Yeah, but I have it under control.” “Yeah, but it’s only a temporary thing.” “Yeah, but everyone else is in the same situation; this is just what I have to do to get by.”

There are lots of things in this life – other than God – that try to claim mastery over us. There are lots of things that we willingly or begrudgingly give our obedience to instead of or more than God. In every case, ceding control of our lives to anything other than God is bad and wrong and should be obvious to us, but that’s just the beginning. We don’t just live as slaves to institutions in this life. We are slaves to sin.

This same 2 Peter passage starts out this way: They promise them freedom, while they themselves are slaves to depravity.[6] Peter talks about empty, boastful words, lustful desires of the flesh, living in error. What’s the sin that’s crouching at your door, desiring to have mastery over you? What’s the sin you stopped fighting a long time ago and have given yourself over to? What’s the sin you’re a slave to and can’t fight even if you wanted to?

In the same way that Jesus couldn’t be bothered by the Roman occupation of Israel, his concern for you isn’t about equalization or sovereignty or democracy or your work-life balance. His concern for you is the same as it was for those Jews. He cares about your soul. That’s why he wasn’t and isn’t content with disciples who are disciples in name only. That’s why he wants true disciples who not only understand but hold to the truth.

The truth is that you and I and every human alive has been born into slavery to sin. You’ve never known any other way of life. You were doomed to live a lifetime of subjugation to sin and to dwell for an eternity in condemnation in hell.

But it was exactly because of your slavery to sin, that the Son of God came to dwell with you, i.e. to be more than your God in name only but to demonstrate his love by giving his life, to voluntarily give up his rights and freedoms so that you could be set free from sin, to satisfy sin’s thirst for blood but to give his own so that you go free, so that your identity could change fundamentally from “slave to sin” to “son or daughter of God,” so that death and depravity could no longer claim mastery over you, but so that you could have a permanent place in God’s family, by grace, through faith in Jesus.

That’s what Reformation Sunday is all about. Martin Luther had been one of those Jews who had believed in Jesus. He even took it one step further; he was a Christian in more than just name. He had tried to live as a holy a life as humanly possible. He became a monk. He literally cloistered himself away from temptation, and when he nevertheless fell into it, he spent hours and days in repentance and prayer, trying, seeking some way to throw off the shackles of sin and guilt and shame, and searching for relief and peace and freedom.

He never found it in himself. Like the Apostle Paul, he saw the law of sin at work in his body: I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing.[7] Where Luther found freedom was exactly where Jesus told the Jews to look for it: “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”[8]

It is true that we are all born into sin. It is true that sin desires – and often succeeds at achieving – mastery over us. But it is equally true that Jesus came to set you free from sin. Jesus came to forgive your sins, with no strings attached. He doesn’t demand that you obey him perfectly. He doesn’t demand that you be better than anyone else. The mark of a true disciple of Jesus is holding to his teaching.

That means that you cherish the truth of the Gospel that we are saved by grace, through faith in Jesus. We’re not saved by what we do. We don’t earn our own freedom. It’s a free gift of God’s love.  Hold to that truth, because in it you have freedom from the accusations of the devil that you’re not good enough; you’re not, but God’s love for you is unconditional – it doesn’t depend on you, it depends on him. Hold to that truth, because in it you have freedom from the obligation to obey God’s law perfectly; Jesus already did that for you and then died for you. Hold to that truth, because in it you have freedom to enjoy life without fear that punishment is looming; Jesus earned paradise for you.

Hold onto Jesus’ teaching. Don’t just know it. Cling to it. Cherish it. Use it. Remind yourself of it day after day. You’re doing that right now by being in church and listening to his Word. Good! We have another service next week and the week after that. You’re listening to his Word right now. Good! This is just 1 out of 168 hours in a week. Use a few more this week to listen to his Word. That’s how you get to know the truth. That’s how that truth makes a home in your heart. That’s how the truth sets you free, both for this life and eternity.

There’s no question about your identity. You aren’t a slave to sin anymore. It does still crouch at your door. You do still give into it. But that’s not your identity anymore. You are really Jesus’ disciple because you do hold to his teaching. More than that, you are a son or daughter of God who has a permanent place in his family, by grace, through faith in Jesus.

That’s what Reformation Sunday is all about. That’s what the whole Christian faith is all about. Hold to Jesus’ teaching and he will set you free. Amen.

[1] John 8:31

[2] John 8:31

[3] John 8:33

[4] Romans 6:16

[5] 2 Peter 2:19

[6] 2 Peter 2:19

[7] Romans 7:19

[8] John 8:31,32

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