Sermon: Beatitudes & Heptapods

A Sermon for the Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany

Readings available here

If you were to rank Bible passages by popularity, I’m pretty sure the Beatitudes would be in the top 5, after the Golden Rule, Psalm 23, John 3:16, and maybe Paul’s reflection on love in 1 Corinthians. 

It’s not surprising that this passage is popular. On its face, the Beatitudes are comforting words. They’re a reminder that Jesus has blessed us in our lowest places. Even when the world is cruel and punishing, we know that God can see what we’re dealing with. 

But I think the Beatitudes have become so commonplace that we can easily forget that these words are more than words: they are literally revolutionary. They change the world. 

This is because Jesus’ words are not wishful thinking. They are true. When Jesus speaks, he makes them true. 

Let me digress for a moment…For the last month, I’ve been reading the collected works of science fiction author, Ted Chiang.  

One of my favorite stories is called The Story of Your Life. It was adapted into a movie called Arrival.  

The story follows a linguist as she encounters the language of aliens. 

These aliens, called Heptapods, don’t use speech the way humans do. Their sentence structure isn’t linear. It doesn’t make a series of connecting points all in a straight line. 

Instead, it’s a three-dimensional web, with parts of meaning interconnecting and going off in many directions. In order to write down the sentence, you have to know where the sentence is going from the first pen stroke.  

It’s hard to visualize, but what it means is that, in order for the heptapods to communicate anything, they have to have the complete picture already. To begin a thought, they already have to know how the story ends. 

Humans use sentences to arrive at meaning, eventually. But because heptapods already know what the end of their sentences are, their language isn’t about thinking through things or negotiating meaning.  

The narrator concludes that the only reason the heptapods use language at all is because their speaking is a “form of action.” 

This concept is a real one used by linguists. It’s called speech act theory. Let me quote from the story for a second: 

“According to speech act theory, statements like “You’re under arrest,” “I christen this vessel,” or “I promise” were all performative: a speaker could perform action only by uttering the words.  

For such acts, knowing what would be said didn’t change anything. Everyone at a wedding anticipated the words “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” but until the minister actually said them, the ceremony didn’t count.  

With performative language, saying equaled doing.” 

Ok, now back to the Bible. What does speech act theory have to do with the Beatitudes? 

It turns out, everything. Because when Jesus speaks of blessedness, his speech is an action. He is speaking the Kingdom of God into existence. Don’t just take my word for it: Biblical scholars point out that the Beatitude form and syntax are associated with prophecy. 

Like heptapod language, one scholar says that “the Beatitudes are written as unconditional performative language. They do not merely describe something that already is, but bring into being the reality they declare.”  

In other words, they are true because the God who knows the end of the story has declared them. 

When Jesus speaks of Beatitude, he is turning the world upside down. These are not words of comfort – they are a challenge to every assumption we make about who is blessed and who is not.  

Blessed are the poor in spirit, the mourners, the meek, the innocent, the weary, the angry, the ones who keep trying to make the world a better place even when they can’t see any proof that it’s possible. 

It’s not the wealthy, the happy, the attractive, or the powerful who are blessed. It’s the ones on the margins. The ones who are heavy-laden. The ones who are at risk of being gunned down and beaten.  

The ones who carry each other’s burdens. The ones who aren’t sure a better world is possible, but know without a doubt that the one we’re living in isn’t nearly good enough. 

The Beatitudes are not just words: they are Christ’s action, now and forever. 

And this isn’t just a theory.  

We can see the fruits of this action. Because of the words of Jesus, we have churches and monasteries, hospitals and charities. We have liberation theology and Black Civil Rights movements. We have martyrs and civil disobedience and civil war.  

We have light in darkness and hope where hope has no business showing up. 

Political regimes have fallen because people with no earthly power took the Beatitudes seriously. 

Jesus speaks, and the whole world changes. Jesus speaks, and the Kingdom of God breaks through. 

– 

The mistake we make in reading the Beatitudes as comforting is that we turn Jesus’ eternal and irrevocable blessing into something closer to the saying, “Bless your heart.” 

But, unlike those who say “Bless your heart,” Jesus isn’t frowning and shaking his head in pity for people who suffer in this world. He’s not merely letting us know he cares about us.  

Like God’s voice booming into the void at the beginning of time, Jesus’ voice is the voice of creation. 

The Beatitudes make hope possible. Which means they show us the way. 

They are Christ’s vision of new creation. To live into them, we need to follow his gaze.  

Our job is to notice where the kingdom breaks through. Not in places of glory, but in places of neglect. Not in places of calm, but places of chaos. Not in places of wealth, but in places of poverty.  

The cracked and broken places of this world are where the light of the Kingdom is breaking through. 

So, no matter where you see yourself in the Beatitudes, I encourage you to remember that Jesus is already acting. Jesus has always been acting and creating and renewing, and he will never stop. 

Thanks be to God! Like the heptapods, we already know the end of the story, too. And because of that, we are empowered to speak and act without fear of the future. We walk the path with God, by faith, with assurance that every small act of justice, mercy, kindness, love, and solidarity makes the Kingdom a little more visible. 

Jesus has covered us in blessedness, in beatitude.  

Where do you see the light of his kingdom breaking through? 

Amen. 

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