From as far back in the Bible as Leviticus 1-3, it’s obvious: The work of the priest is the messy and unglamorous work of helping people restore themselves to right and loving relationship with God.

In Leviticus it’s a lot of literal guts and blood and other bodily fluids and smells. It’s not for the faint of heart, or those with a strong gag reflex. It’s not quite so literally messy in our day, but the metaphor is a solid one.

Because I brought so much to the party. Because I had some talent and intellect. Because I was kinda winsome and had some leadership skills. Because I was creative and didn’t adhere to the status quo. Because I was a dreamy visionary. Because I was a passionate go-getter. Because I took my faith so much more seriously than most. Because—let’s face it—if he really wanted to get anything done in the world, he’d go farther faster with me on board.

Because. Because. Because. Because.

The metaphors we use are important. All language is basically metaphor, and all metaphors, in the end, breakdown. Insufficient to fully describe the reality they point to. Which is why we need multiple metaphors—even contradictory, or seemingly incompatible metaphors—to describe the indescribable. Truly great things can never be described head-on, in plain terms. 

I can describe the sky as blue, and vast, and beautiful, but richer and more poetic language is needed to truly convey a sense of majesty and awe. 

So it is with God. God must always be describe obliquely. And with multiple metaphors. 

According to Jesus. Those who others speak ill of. The slandered, the maligned, the publicly shamed. Especially—according to Jesus, it’s worth clarifying—those who are cursed for doing what it right.

We have a problem in our culture. It seems that one of our favorite national pass-times has become calling people out. Particularly anyone who might have any sort of public influence. There are few things we Americans love more than raising someone up on a pedestal only to cheer as we knock them back to the ground.

Beware the spotlight.

According to Jesus. Yet increasingly it seems as though the beatitude of this world says that the divisive and violent are blessed. If there is one single beatitude that has been proven to be extremely difficult in the past few few years, it’s this one. Being a peacemaker in a polarized culture is hard as hell.

Peacemakers intentionally sit in the middle ground, not because their beliefs or values are centrist, but because they know that only from a common middle ground can divided people be drawn together.

If you believe the media hype—or if you allow yourself to be shaped by it—there is no tolerance for the unpolarized. You must pick a side! This whole-sale partisanship, this refusal of civil discourse, this complete breaking of relationships over such differences is, I believe, the single greatest threat to our country.

According to Jesus. And the payoff? They will see God. Everywhere. All the time. Not just in sacred places–but everywhere. Not one day–but today. Not just when they’re looking for him–but even when they least expect it. The pure in heart will live in perpetual surprise at the presence of God.

According to Jesus. Yet more often than not it is the merciless of the world who seem to come out on top. 

Jesus flips our winners / losers paradigm. Those who seem to come out on top by cold hearted means will be proven losers in the long run. Why? Not as some act of divine vengeance for not playing nice with the other kids on the playground, but because they have forfeited their ability to receive mercy. Mercy is a muscle, and the merciless have allowed it atrophy from disuse. 

Many in this world speak well of being merciful; if only we had more people who practiced it. More people who didn’t just make a New Years resolution to get into shape, but who actually followed through. 

According to Jesus. Those with an unsatisfied ache in their bellies. As are the thirsty, with their parched mouths. Luke presents hunger and thirst literally: those who long for the basic food and drink they need to survive. Matthew presents it figuratively: those who long for the justice that humanity needs to survive. 

Whichever evangelist you prefer, both are uncomfortable beatitudes to live with. Because the beatitude of the world runs the opposite direction: The well-fed are blessed; those satisfied with the unjust status quo are blessed. The winners of the world, the in crowd, are those who like things just the way they are, thank you very much.

According to Jesus. And he says that the payoff is pretty high. So that’s good.

But, dang, it’s hard to be meek.

It’s disadvantageous to be meek in a world whose own beatitude says that the powerful and presumptuous are blessed. Those who seek after power and are pushy with with their influence in order to get their way. The winners of the world are the bullies.

But only temporarily. 

According to Jesus. Those who have lost what is dear to them. Those who can barely hold on. Those whose grief feels more real than the sunshine outside. Those whose hearts break not merely for their own misfortune, but also for the plight of the world.

The beatitude of the world says that the happy-go-lucky are the ones who must be truly blessed. Truly favored. Truly happy. They’re the real winners of the world. The ones who win friends and influence people. Let’s be honest—they’re much more fun to be around than the mourners.