The Geography of blessing: Reflections on the texts for Epiphany 6C

The gospel text for the sixth Sunday of Epiphany is Luke’s account of the Beatitudes from the Sermon on the Plain (Luke 6:17-26). Luke’s Beatitudes parallel the structure of certain passages from the Hebrew Scriptures in which lists of blessings and woes appear in sequence. Both the Psalm and Old Testament lectionary texts appointed for the sixth Sunday of Epiphany present helpful examples of similar lists:

Psalm 1
1 Happy are those
    who do not follow the advice of the wicked . . .
3 They are like trees
    planted by streams of water,
4 The wicked are not so,
    but are like chaff that the wind drives away.

In Jeremiah 17:5-10, while the order of blessings and woes is flipped, the structure remains:

5 Thus says the Lord:
Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals . . .
6 They shall be like a shrub in the desert . . .

7 Blessed are those who trust in the Lord . . .
8 They shall be like a tree planted by water,

In both of these passages, the speaker describes those who are blessed and cursed in terms of specific comparisons to the natural world.

The blessed are like a tree planted by water. The cursed, on the other hand, resemble a shrub dwelling in a dry, arid place, or chaff blown by the wind.

The blessed are rooted, close to a source of nutrients. They exist in mutual, life-giving, healthy relationship with their environment, while the cursed, isolated and windswept, lack a root structure altogether.

In the same way that the Psalmist and the prophet address both the blessed and cursed in turn, Jesus proclaims both blessings and woes in Luke 6:17-26.

In a passage that parallels Matthew’s sermon on the mount, Luke’s sermon on the plain has Jesus declaring blessings upon the poor, hungry, reviled, and excluded, followed by woes to the rich, full, laughing, and respected.

Matthew’s and Luke’s accounts echo one another in many ways while maintaining key distinguishing features, right down to the seemingly minor difference of the geographies in which Jesus delivers them.

But as the backdrop for Luke’s Beatitudes, Psalm 1 and Jeremiah 17 seem to indicate that geography and environment are integral to how we should understand blessings and woes. Read alongside these Old Testament texts, Luke’s Beatitudes contrast the geographies that the subjects of blessings and woes inhabit.

Almost imperceptibly, the imagery from these background texts pushes its way through the level ground where Jesus stands to address his followers.

Greg Boyle, a Jesuit priest and founder of a well-known program for gang intervention and rehabilitation, reads Jesus’ beatitudes in precisely this way. Commenting on the Matthean Beatitudes, Boyle says,

“Scripture scholars contend that the original language of the Beatitudes should not be rendered as ‘Blessed are . . . .’ Greater precision in translation would say, ‘You're in the right place if . . . .’ The Beatitudes is not a spirituality, after all. It's a geography. It tells us where to stand.”

In line with the imagery of a natural environment from the Psalm and prophetic text, Jesus is telling his followers, “You’re in a fertile environment for blessing when you’re in the company of the poor, hungry, reviled, and excluded.”

Those to whom Jesus declares woes are those who face the natural result of, as Jeremiah puts it, “placing their trust in mortal flesh.” Their mistaken idea of a right environment is one of self-sufficiency. Unlike the blessed, they see the company of others as unnecessary, especially when those others are poor, hungry, reviled, and excluded.

Focusing on these geographic images further clarifies the truth of Jesus’ words. Reading Luke’s Beatitudes alongside Jeremiah 17, for example, paints a picture that highlights a certain irony: although the well-adorned rich appear to have abundant life, they dwell in desert geographies—in parched, barren lands.

If the blessings can be read, “You’re in a fertile environment if you’re keeping company with the poor, hungry, reviled, and excluded,” then perhaps the woes can be read, “You’re going to end up in a desert wasteland if you separate yourself from such company. You might end up rich, full, laughing, and celebrated, but you’ll be those things in an uninhabited salt land.”

Expanding upon Boyle’s “You’re in the right place if,” the Beatitudes not only tell us where to stand, but also set us in motion on a path of mission, as if to say, “You’re moving in the right direction if . . . .” Seen in this way, the sermon on the plain provides marching orders for his disciples.

If the Beatitudes can be faithfully described as providing a set of marching orders, then the mission that they map out is facilitated not through self-sufficient heroes, but through interdependent communities.

Because the distinguishing features of the blessed imply neediness in one form or another, this community is necessarily interdependent. It is made up entirely of those for whom an encounter with others creates an opportunity for bestowing and receiving blessing. All who claim membership in this community experience some form of lack that requires the presence and attentive care of others.

Laura James’ painting, entitled “The Sermon on the Mount,” illustrates this masterfully.

Notice the way the image is composed. The crowd whom Jesus addresses is seated beneath trees, but James’ portrayal tricks the eye, making it appear as though the crowd is not only situated under the trees, but entirely underground.

Seen this way, the very bodies of those surrounding Jesus form a subterranean root system for the trees above. In other words, Jesus’ followers are conduits for life-giving energy; their presence together creates the delivery system for blessing.

Although the title of the painting gestures toward Matthew’s Beatitudes, the image also applies to Luke’s account in that it seems to divide the audience into two groups, just as Jesus’ issuing of blessings and woes might appear to be addressed two distinct groups.

However, a closer reading of Luke’s account calls into question the notion that Jesus’ splits his audience in two when uttering blessings and woes. For example, Luke precedes the Beatitudes with the detail that “all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed all of them” (Luke 6:19). The double occurrence of the word “all” in this verse suggests that the Beatitudes that follow also apply to everyone within earshot.

Likewise, the image, upon closer inspection, captures the universal application of the Beatitudes insofar as there’s no discernible difference in appearance among those seated to Jesus’ right and left. In other words, the image alerts us to the fact that we can’t tell simply by looking who is rich or poor, hungry or full, reviled or celebrated, in part because they all—we all—are all of those things at one time or another.

As an interdependent community of redeemed sinners, we are Jesus’ intended audience for both the blessings and the woes, which is another way of saying that we are not reliable judges of what is going on inside of us from one moment to the next.

We might assume that we are the kind of deeply rooted tree described in Psalm 1 or Jeremiah 17, when in reality, we have only shallow roots because we dwell in the desert. Conversely, although we might feel like a dried-up shrub on the outside, God is at work beneath the surface, germinating seeds and deepening roots.

As the embodiment of the Beatitudes, Jesus leads us to the tree beside healing waters. He does so in order that we who know the perils of trusting in mortal flesh might follow him on the path that sinners tread to offer life to those in the desert.

Consider the ways in which God in Christ, through his life, suffering, death, and resurrection, creates the right environment for the mission of giving and receiving blessing:

Jesus was poor, yet he lavishes the riches of his grace on us (Ephesians 1:7-8).

Jesus was hungry, yet from his fullness we receive (John 1:16).

Jesus was reviled, yet his rejection makes us acceptable (Romans 5:1).

Jesus was excluded, yet his isolation roots us in love (Ephesians 3:17).

Jesus suffered, yet his body hosts the broken (Luke 4:18).

Jesus died, yet his tomb nourishes a seed (John 12:24).

Jesus was resurrected. He offers us His life (Ephesians 2:5-6).

His is the life that sends out its roots by the stream,
His is the life that does not fear when heat comes,
His is the life that is not anxious in the year of drought,
His is the life that does not cease to bear fruit.

Austin Jacobs