Preaching through the Beatitudes has gotten me to thinking a lot about the whole concept of blessing. After all, Jesus kicked off his preaching ministry by offering blessings in spades. So it is no surprise, then, that the faithful over the years have raised hearts and voices asking for and appreciating the outpouring of God’s bounty upon us. “Showers of Blessing” kind of resounds that idea. So does “Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow.” “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.” We need them. He has them. Say please and thank you. Just seems right. And if we don’t think about it much, it seems easy. But it’s not.

But the offering Christ extends in Matthew 5 comes with a lot of conditions. Conditions that, frankly, most of us would rather not find ourselves in. Painfully aware of our insufficiencies. Facing loss head on. Making meekness not just a virtue, but a pursuit. Habitually being merciful in thought, emotion, word, and deed. And those are just the ones we have covered so far. We have yet to get to the parts about being hungry, forgiving, indulging of those who do not warrant it and, best of all, taking responsibility for the shape of our heart. Anyone who reads this passage, beautiful narrative as it is, with same sweet feelings we get from, say the Twenty-Third Psalm, just isn’t paying attention. The requisite pose for such blessing is not popular. Furthermore, its not natural. Pretty sure Jesus sensed that when he made these wild and wide declarations. These Beatitudes serve as a potent prelude to the larger work of Sermon on the Mount. The largest portion of that deals with how we conduct our lives. There is even a section on handling conflict and how we treat people actively opposed to us. But before all that, Christ calls out our character. What we do, have, and accomplish, will always be subject to the foundational limitation of who we are. That’s called character. Jesus is pretty clear that the road to blessing starts there.

“Come thou fount of every blessing” is a good prayer and righteous request. But don’t forget it is followed by “tune my heart to sing thy praise.” It’s not hard to hear the discord of hearts noisily out of tune, still begging and expecting to be blessed and highly favored. We tolerate selfishness and elevate the most self-assured. We think we should be above pain, suffering, and loss. Minds that cannot be changed live beside hearts that cannot be broken. Our wants trump other’s needs, cutting off the path that leads to true blessing. I wonder which is more bewildering: thinking we can receive divine blessing while living the antithesis of this teaching or ascribing virtue to those who, on the Beatitude scorecard, pretty much go for 8. I honestly don’t know.

As pastor, preacher, priest, and part-time prophet, I shake my head at how far removed from the character of Christ our world operates. And I confess that the inappropriately pious part of me wants to unleash some unholy Hades to the folks I perceive are chief offenders. But then I remember that the only heart I am responsible for is mine. While I can wish everybody else’s would be perfectly tuned, the only heart I can present to Him is mine. And so I do, and, in fulfillment of my calling, I implore you to do the same. There is a lot of noise out there, and not much of it is joyful. But if His people can get better tuned up, maybe we can make the discourse of our day a little more praiseworthy. At least it would be a little less ugly.