Imagine yourself living at a time when a fever could be a death sentence, when life was short and hard, and people suffered without hope. Then Imagine hearing of a man who freely healed all who came to Him of whatever diseases and torments they had, and who, with just a word, freed people bound by demons. Think of the joy that He brought as broken and wasted bodies were healed, lives saved, and livelihoods restored. Hopelessness and despair became thanksgiving and wonder, mourning was turned into dancing, and all the talk was about the prophet from Nazareth. You are among the multitudes who flock to Him.

You see Him seated on a hillside with His disciples gathering around Him. The curious crowds surround them, attentive to His every word.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

The first words He utters sound a note so new, so hopeful, so different from anything they have ever heard. Just as His healing touch had power to restore life to diseased bodies, so now His words seemed to be restoring faith and hope to dejected and darkened souls.

For these common people, the Law of God was like a towering mountain, impossible to climb. They were not scholars with time to study all the intricacies of Moses writings, and the prophets’ words frightened and confused them. Each Sabbath in the synagogues, the teaching of the scribes and Pharisees only burdened them further and helped them not at all.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Like cold water to a thirsty soul, like cool fresh air in a crowded room, these words were wonderful to hear. They might even have caused the crowd to gasp, that is, if they had dared to believe them.

Here were a people humbled by the demands of daily life, working men and women, fully occupied with the need to provide for their families. They could not boast of great achievements, great learning or great virtue. They were indeed poor in spirit, but was He saying that such would inherit the kingdom of heaven? How could that be? Were there not myriad laws to obey, offerings to make, and holy days to observe? What of all that?

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

There were those who were bitter and resentful at the life they had been given. But there were others who mourned their own fallen state and the pitiful condition of their nation, once free and prosperous but now shackled by Rome and exploited even by its own rulers. To these He held out the promise of comfort. Their prayers and their tears were remembered and would be answered.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”

Rome despised weakness and gloried in its power and its conquests. Shall the meek, the humble, those who are submitted to God whatever He may lead them into, shall they inherit the earth? How can it be?

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.”

Anyone who pauses to ponder his own heart soon discovers layers of pride and a furious rebellion against God that staggers the mind. We can hunger for righteousness, but from where will it come? Light cannot come out of darkness. Yet again, they hear His strange promise, that such a hunger will be satisfied, and beyond measure.

With these few words, He set before them a picture of a soul that is poor and grieving, humble, submitted to God and longing for the righteousness that is His alone. And this soul, held in no regard by the rich and powerful, nor by the religious rulers and ministering priests – this soul was to be blessed beyond measure, and toward this soul heaven’s eyes were turned.

Standing with the crowd that day, how would you have reacted to these astonishing words? Would you have turned away, mocking what you thought was foolish idealism? Or would you have been irresistibly drawn to Him, straining to hear more, to know more, and to understand His words, the words of eternal life?