February 1, 2026

Sermon Transcript

Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”  (Matthew 5:2-3) 

One of my two brothers works for a multinational company in the Midwest, and over the years he has done quite well.  He has risen up the ranks of the corporate structure, and might reasonably be called a big-wig strolling the corridors at headquarters.  But before any promotions would come his way, he needed to figure out the culture and ethos of the place.  What did those in charge really want to see in their employees?  My brother figured that in addition to meeting all his goals and befriending the right people, hard work and long hours would be the key.  He resolved that whenever possible, he would be the last to leave.  He would be the last one out of the parking lot at the end of the day.  Everyone would see him: putting in the extra time, going the extra mile, all for the good of the company.

One day, a helpful mentor explained to him that his thinking was backwards.  “It’s not how late you stay.  What matters is how early you arrive.”  Once the scales fell from his eyes, my brother could see that the parking lots themselves told the story.  In those days, people working at corporate headquarters had two parking lots available to them: one known unofficially as the Losers’ Lot, the other as the Winners’ Lot.  As you can imagine, the Losers’ Lot was far from the entrance.  Those who parked there did so because they were late.  Why were they late?  Undoubtedly, they were late because they were lazy.  Because they were lazy they were likely to be unproductive.  Because they were unproductive they were a drag on the company.  They were losers, and because they were losers they parked in the Losers’ Lot.

Winners, on the other hand, arrived early and thus parked in the lot closer to the entrance.  In the Winners’ Lot itself, my brother describes what he called “The Row of Honor.”  The Row of Honor, of course, was right up against the building.  In the Row of Honor was “The Place of Glory” – the one parking space next to the door.  Starting time at headquarters was supposed to be 8:30 am.  To park in the Winners’ Lot you had be there no later than 7:30 am.  If you wanted the Row of Honor you’d have to arrive by seven.  To inhabit the Place of Glory?  My brother figured that the only way to do it would be to move his car there in the evening after everyone had left, then either spend the night or beg his wife to come drive him home.  Only then could he rejoice and be glad over the great reward that surely would be his.

In today’s Gospel reading from Matthew we have heard a portion of the Sermon on the Mount called the Beatitudes.  The Beatitudes are a sermon, or a distillation of many sermons, that Jesus preached in which he pronounced God’s blessings to be upon those who are parked in the Losers’ Lot of life.  Blessed are you when you are poor in spirit, when you are grief stricken, when you are meek, when you are in need of mercy yourself or needing to show mercy to others.  Blessed are you when you are persecuted and reviled and falsely accused.  Blessed are you whom the world judges as unfortunate, forgotten by God, and bereft of God’s blessing.  You’ve run out of money, your dog has died, and people are spreading malicious rumors about you all over town.  Congratulations!  Jesus says you are, in fact, fortunate and favored.  Rejoice and be glad on your long walk through the snow and cold.  You may not be close to the door of your office, but in the kingdom of heaven, you are in the Row of Honor in the Winners’ Lot.

The Beatitudes have inspired more devotional literature and scholarly expositions than perhaps any other portion of the New Testament.  For those who call themselves followers of Jesus, these lines are central to the corporate culture of the kingdom he established.  But beware, the Beatitudes aren’t commandments to obey.  They aren’t a to-do list to accomplish.  They are the elusive collective personality of the Communion of Saints.  They are an ethos, and as with any ethos, they are better caught than taught.  Nevertheless, the Beatitudes are so counter-intuitive that a little teaching may still be in order.  Indeed, Jesus took his disciples off by themselves, sat them down, and essentially said, “Look, here is the essence of the movement we are inaugurating.  These describe the culture of who we are.  To understand them will require thinking backwards.”

Most agree that the first Beatitude – Blessed are the poor in spirit – is the key to the rest.  It’s as if the first Beatitude occupies the place of glory in the row of honor in the kingdom’s parking lot.  What does it mean?  The Greek word that Matthew uses for poor implies total destitution: abject and utter poverty.  It is to have nothing.  In this case, it is to be empty of spirit.  Spirit refers not to God’s spirit but to the human spirit, the self.  Thus, to be poor in spirit is to be empty of self, rather than full of yourself.  It is to be among the last that Jesus says will be first.  It is to be among those whom he calls the least of these, my brethren.  Blessed are the last and the least and the losers, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

The Beatitudes are a tough ethos to embrace, because what they represent is not the way the world works.  In today’s reading from First Corinthians (1:18-31), Paul the Apostle contrasts the ethos of the kingdom – or, as he calls it, the message about the cross – with the wisdom of the world.  The message about the cross is that Jesus, though he was in the form of God, emptied himself – humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross (Philippians 2:5-8).  As for the wisdom of the world – well, we all know the wisdom of the world.  Whatever it takes, park in the Winners’ Lot, and if possible, the Row of Honor.  If you see your chance, seize the place of glory.  Parking yourself on a cross is foolishness.  The Psalmist asked, Lord, who may dwell in your tabernacle; who may abide upon your holy hill?  Calvary hill could not have been God’s holy hill.  According to the wisdom of the world, it was the ultimate loser’s lot.  The good places in life go not to those who are empty of self, but full of themselves.  The quick, the strong, and the vigorous are those whom we admire and reward.  The late-coming laborers trudging in from the Losers’ Lot, to them the world awards merely pity, and possibly scorn.

In writing to the Corinthians, St. Paul went so far as to say that their thinking was backwards.  God does not award greatness in the kingdom of heaven to those who are first in life, but to those who come in last.  St. Paul wrote that the type of worldly wisdom relying on human strength and survival of the fittest is foolishness in the eyes of God.  Indeed, God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong, God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God.  St. Paul goes on to say that the only true and eternal foundation to build ourselves upon is trust in Jesus – trust in what Christ on the cross has done for us.  He is the source of your life … and righteousness and sanctification and redemption.  Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.  Jesus himself said, Whoever would save his life will lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it (Mark 8:35).  Lord, who may abide in your tabernacle?  Blessed are the poor in spirit.  Blessed are those who are empty of self, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

These are hard words hear, and even more difficult to enact.  It is a fearful thing to live into the backwards thinking of the Beatitudes.  But let’s not forget the promise of Jesus found in the second part of the blessing: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  You see, God does not leave us empty.  Far from it.  God fills those who are empty of self.  God makes rich those who are poor in spirit by filling them with the Holy Spirit.  One way in particular that God fills us with his Spirit is in the Communion we share on Sundays.  Allow me to press you a bit on the significance of what happens in the Eucharist.  What are we doing?  Some may think we are merely repeating by rote a ritual for the sake of ritual.  But others will perceive the drama of emptying ourselves so that Christ may fill us.  You see, we leave our old selves behind in our pews.  We leave our accomplishments and grudges behind, and we come to the altar.  In the bread and wine, God gives us his eternal life.  We receive Christ’s body and blood.  God fills us with the life of Jesus.  He lives in us and we in him.  God fills us with the Spirit, which is the same things as receiving the kingdom of heaven.  Then we return again to our pews as new creatures.  Our old selves have passed away.  The new has come (2 Corinthians 5:17).

Later today we will hold the annual parish meeting, and celebrate 218 years of Sundays at Grace Church – 180 of them in this building.  Think about it: for 180 years people have been coming to the altar in this place, trusting by faith that they will receive Christ’s gift of eternal life.  In fact, to mark all these years of our parish life, the two patens – or silver plates – we’re using to distribute the bread today date from 1815, before this edifice arose.  The patens were in use in the first building, downtown on Broadway at Rector Street.  Just imagine the great number of people who have received the Bread of Heaven from these little plates in all these years, and still on this day.

From my side of the altar rail, it is always a holy moment to see all sorts and conditions and sizes and shapes of us kneeling there.  Let me tell you about a profound little incident that I once witnessed during the administration of Communion at one of our services.  A mother and her daughter were approaching the altar to kneel at the rail.  Who they were, I don’t remember.  This was several years ago.  The little girl was about four years old, possibly five.  She held in her hand some sort of toy that she most definitely did not want to relinquish.  When I came to the girl and offered her the bread, she was unable to take it because of the toy.  Her hands were full and occupied.  Her mother saw all this in an instant, and with a firm yet gentle voice imparted to the child some quite sound Christian teaching.  She took hold of the toy and said, “Let go.  Your hands have to be empty.”  Once the girl let go, once her hands were empty, I was able to place in her little palm the bread of heaven, to preserve her body and soul unto everlasting life.

Are you coming before the Lord with a grudge or a gripe or a grief?  Do you cradle in your arms your accomplishments, or your good works, or your reputation?  All of it, you say?  That’s a lot to carry.  Hear again the young mother to her daughter: Let go; your hands have to be empty.  Hear again the Lord Jesus, who said, Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.