Is this section of the Matthean account one argument? Or is it the end of the prologue to the Sermon on the Mount and the beginning of the main body of the Sermon? That makes some difference to how we might interpret what the Matthean Jesus is saying here. If my interpretation is rooted in the text as we have it, then the answer to those questions matters to me.

Samuel Byrskog examines these issues in detail and concludes that Matthew 5:13-20 is one argument with several rhetorical pieces. His view runs counter to the majority opinion which sees Matthew 5:17ff. as the beginning of the next section of the Sermon.

As we’ve noted in a previous post, the emphatic second-person plural makes it clear that Jesus is addressing the disciples. Byrskog notes that the Matthean author uses this technique as well in Matthew 13 and Matthew 23. The disciples are the primary addressees throughout the Sermon on the Mount. The crowds overhear the Sermon but are never directly addressed.

Elsewhere in Matthew (10:34) Jesus uses the phrase “Do not think” to continue a line of argument begun earlier in the text. That phrase is likely not a marker for a new argument. In rhetorical terms, the new argument more clearly begins at 5:13. To interpret 5:17-20, Byrskog argues, we are best served, then, to see how those verses fit with the previous argument.

In his analysis of verses 13-20, Byrskog finds that verses 16 and 19 have the conclusions to the argument here. “Both conclusions emphasize the disciples’ deeds – the good works and the practice of ‘these commandments,’” Byrskog writes (563). Each of these conclusions says these actions should impact the people who witness them. On the basis of these conclusions, then, Jesus outlines examples of disciple behavior in verses 5:21ff.

Matthew 5:17f. in this analysis is a proposition leading to the conclusion in Matthew 5:19. This proposition is offered because the disciples could have possible misunderstandings of what has come before. Being salt and light could be construed as ways to leave behind the Law and the Prophets – annulling the Torah and the Witnesses. Instead, the disciples are to imitate Jesus’ own relationship to the Law and the Prophets. Therefore, Byrskog argues, “they are also not to set aside but to practice and teach even the  least of ‘these commandments’” (page 567).

We’ve made the connection in a previous post between the argument here in Matthew 5 and the concluding instructions to the disciples in Matthew 28. Byrskog makes that connection as well. In Matthew 28, Jesus instructs the eleven to make disciples of all nations. In doing so, they are to teach the nations to observe everything Jesus has commanded them. “Jesus starts preparing his pupils,” Byrskog writes, “for their future didactic mission already in the Sermon on the Mount” (page 568).

It is worth considering that the “commandments” that Jesus commends in Matthew 5 are really Jesus’ own interpretation of the Law and the Prophets. Matthew 5:19 and 28:20, Byrskog observes, have the same terms – to “keep” and “commanded.” He notes that many scholars discount the “letter and stroke” language of Matthew 5 as a pre-Matthean leftover.

However, Byrskog argues that his analysis leads to a different conclusion. “It is entirely conceivable to understand this verse [5:19] as an admonition to practice and teach the exposition of the Torah as contained in Jesus own teaching” (page 568). What the disciples are to keep, observe, and teach is exemplified, then, in what follows in the rest of the Sermon.

Byrskog gives this summary of his analysis. “5:17f is thus central to the entire Matthean narrative as it implies that Jesus is the perfect example to be followed when the disciples themselves, having eventually listened and learned from all of Jesus’ speeches, are to be teachers of the nations” (page 569).

In other words, “For the main author of Matthew’s narrative, Jesus was a teacher whose words and deeds represented the ultimate, normative criterion to be applied in various situations of his Jewish-Christian community. A reference to Jesus,” Byrskog concludes, “needed no further defense” (page 571). The Matthean author has a relatively “high” Christology, therefore, but that Christology is demonstrated through narrative rather than through dogmatic assertions.

Is this, then, what the Matthean Jesus means when he says that he has not come to abolish the Law but rather to fulfill it? Matthew Thiessen tracks the use of the idea of “abolishing the Law” in connection with the persecution by Antiochus Epiphanes in the 160s BCE and the Jewish War as described by Josephus. We get some interesting context for the terms and their importance.

In the documents connected to Antiochian persecution, “These writers view this attack on circumcision, Sabbath, Temple cult, and food laws as an attack on the Jewish or Hebrew ‘politeia,’ and upon Jewish ancestral customs,” Thiessen writes. “It is important to note,” he continues, “that, according to each [of the authors he quotes], it was a Jewish group that was closely involved in the abolishment of the Jewish law in an attempt at Hellenization” (page 548).

In each of those documents, Thiessen observes, the consequence of this abolishing of the law was divine wrath in the form of persecution.

I find that especially interesting in the context of our verses. If Jesus says that persecution will be a result of keeping his commands, then one possible conclusion to be drawn would be that this persecution was an expression of Divine disapproval. After all, that was the conclusion that other Jewish writers were drawing from their history. It would be important to make a strong argument against this possible conclusion.

Josephus argues that the Zealots routinely and repeatedly “abolished” the Law during their war against Rome, especially because they ceased Sabbath observance in order to do battle. My ears perk up immediately at that mention, since debates about Sabbath observance are constant in Jesus’ ministry. Josephus goes into great detail regarding numerous other ways the Zealots were reputed to have “abolished” the Law. Most glaring was their occupation of the Temple precincts. Again, one cannot help but think of events in the ministry of Jesus in the gospels.

Thus, both in the Antiochian documents and in Josephus “those who abolished the law bring divine judgment upon the people as a whole” (page 551). The Matthean account is produced in the generation following the Jewish war, probably in Antioch. The memory of such charges against the Zealots would have a particular sting if they were leveled as well against the Matthean community.

So, Thiessen asks, is Jesus guilty of abolishing the law? Since there is no parallel in Mark or Luke to Matthew 5:17, 19-20, this appears to be a special concern for the Matthean author and community. Thiessen describes what such a charge might have looked like. “Join with us against the law-abolishing followers of this law-abolishing Jesus so we might guard ourselves against God’s wrath, which led to the persecution under Antiochus IV” (pages 551-552).

Add to this charge the fresh memories of the Jewish War and the destruction of Jerusalem in 66-70 CE. Was the Matthean community charged with responsibility for the war as divine punishment? “Given the probability that the air was rife with the accusations of various Jewish groups against their rivals in the wake of the devastating results of the revolt,” Thiessen writes, “this seems a distinct possibility” (page 552).

Thiessen says these accusations may be the concrete content behind Matthew 5:10-12. In response, therefore, the Matthean Jesus-followers needed to show their good works and praise God. “Since Jesus did not come to abolish the law as Matthew makes clear in 5,17-19,” Thiessen argues, “the members of the Matthean community are supposed to live in a way that their opponents will not be able to bring such charges against them” (page 553).

The Matthean author then flips the field and suggests that it is the scribes and the Pharisees who have taken the easier path – perhaps the path of accommodation, as Warren Carter suggests. This would point the finger of blame at the scribes and Pharisees rather than at the Jesus-followers.

To summarize Thiessen’s argument. In the post-70 struggles of the Jewish communities, some identified Jesus as a law-abolisher and Jesus’ followers as responsible for the Divine wrath that resulted. “Matthew’s gospel should therefore be understood, in part,” Thiessen writes, “as a response to such charges” (page 554).

In the Matthean account, Jesus is the New Moses. He calls for authentic Torah observance. Jesus claims to interpret what that authentic Torah observance is. As Byrskog demonstrates, this is the logic of the argument in Matthew 5:13-20. What we do with this as interpreters and preachers remains to be seen. But I find it helpful to understand the text more clearly on its own terms.

References and Resources

Byrskog, Samuel. “MATTHEW 5:17-18 IN THE ARGUMENTATION OF THE CONTEXT.” Revue Biblique (1946-) 104, no. 4 (1997): 557–71. http://www.jstor.org/stable/44089356.

Carter, Warren. Matthew and the Margins: A Sociopolitical and Religious Reading (Bible and Liberation). Orbis Books. Kindle Edition.

Charles, Mark, and Rah, Soong-Chan. Unsettling Truths: The Ongoing, Dehumanizing Legacy of the Doctrine of Discovery. Intervarsity Press, 2019.

Hauerwas, Stanley. Matthew (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible). Baker Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Levine, Amy-Jill. Sermon on the Mount: A Beginner’s Guide to the Kingdom of Heaven. Abingdon Press, 2020.

Smith, Robert H. Matthew (Augsburg Commentary on the New Testament). Augsburg, 1989.

Thiessen, Matthew. “Abolishers of the Law in Early Judaism and Matthew 5,17-20.” Biblica 93, no. 4 (2012): 543–56. http://www.jstor.org/stable/42617307.

Wright, N. T. After You Believe: Why Christian Character Matters. HarperOne, 2010.

Wright, N.T. Matthew for Everyone, Part 1: Chapters 1-15 (The New Testament for Everyone). Westminster John Knox Press. Kindle Edition.

The Matthean author presents a sustained description of the Jesus-following life. As we read through this account together, it will be important to recap and review the argument periodically.

Jesus is “God with us.” He is with us in order to save his people from their sins. That mission attracts attention from the Gentile world almost immediately. It also attracts the attention of the powers of this world. Jesus is worshipped as the King of the Jews. For that reason, he is a threat to and threatened by the powers of this world.

Jesus is son of Abraham, son of David, son of Joseph, and son of God. That identity is confirmed and amplified in his baptism. John the Baptizer points to Jesus as the “greater one.” Satan, the Adversary, works to derail Jesus’ mission and to sustain the powers of this world. Satan fails and Jesus moves from personal identity to public ministry.

“Repent, for the Kingdom of God has come near,” Jesus proclaims. He calls disciples through whom he will carry out that mission. It’s a nondescript bunch and the beginning of a much larger nondescript bunch called “The Church.” Jesus teaches and heals and frees people throughout Galilee. His reputation extends well beyond the local gossip network. The movement is launched.

The Sermon on the Mount is Jesus’ movement manifesto, at least in the Matthean account. It is, as well, a summary manual of discipleship. We get a description of the Kingdom of God in the Beatitudes. The Sermon is given to the disciples, but the crowds listen in. Jesus announces the Great Reversal of the Kingdom. He describes what participation in that Reversal looks like for disciples. And he acknowledges how the powers of this world will react to and reject that Reversal.

It’s important to hang on to this narrative arc and momentum as we read this week’s Gospel text. It is critical to remember, first, that Jesus is “God with us.” Matthew 5:13-20 could sound like Jesus is ready to hand over the reigns to the disciples. But that’s not the case. After the Sermon is concluded, we get two more chapters of Jesus healing, demon-casting, teaching, and training the disciples.

It isn’t until the end of Matthew 9 that Jesus tells the disciples about the great harvest. That harvest is going wanting because of the lack of laborers. Jesus has filled out the cadre of disciples with several more workers, coming up with a total of twelve. Only then does Jesus send the disciples out into that harvest, beginning in chapter 10. Or does he?

Well, he doesn’t send them out immediately. Matthew 10 contains more disciple-training. In the Matthean account, he doesn’t actually send them out even at this point. Instead, as we read in Matthew 11:1 (NRSV), “Now when Jesus had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to teach and proclaim his message in their cities.”

In fact, in a gospel account so fully focused on teaching and training disciples, we never read the story of Jesus actually sending the disciples out to do the work. We get that story in the Lukan account, but not here.

We don’t read about such a sending in the Matthean account prior to the Resurrection. It is only in Matthew 28:19-20 that Jesus commands the disciples (now eleven in number, of course) to actually “go therefore and make disciples of all nations.” And that sending is accompanied by the assurance with which the gospel account began – “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20b, NRSV).

Without that big narrative arc, this week’s text daunts me to the edge of despair. Salt of the earth? Light of the world? Doer and teacher of all these commandments? More righteous than even the scribes and the Pharisees? Lord Jesus, I’m pretty sure you got the wrong person for this job. How about if I just sweep up after the real disciples in the crowd?

Because we read the gospel accounts a piece at a time in our worship, it’s easy to lose track of the bigger story. That’s what makes such a recap necessary. Jesus is God with us, always and forever. Jesus goes ahead of us to confront the powers of this world and defeat them in his death and resurrection. Jesus has experience calling ordinary people to do extraordinary things. And Jesus calls us to do those extraordinary things in community, not by ourselves.

That community reality matters for our text this week. “You (pl.),” Jesus says with emphasis on the “you” in verse thirteen, “are the salt of the earth.” He repeats that emphasis in verse fourteen: “You (pl.) are the light of the world.” Jesus makes these declarations to the disciples as a community, not as individual actors.

The second-person plural continues in verse sixteen – your (pl.) light, your (pl.) good works, and your (pl.) Father in the heavens. And it’s “your (pl.)” righteousness that must be more than (or perhaps better than) that of the scribes and the Pharisees. As we read the examples of that greater righteousness in the rest of the Sermon, we continue to meet that communal dimension. Even the final paragraph about the two foundations is directed to “everyone who hears these words and acts on them” (Matthew 7:24).

Jesus is “God with us” now and forever. We’re not in this “salt and light and righteousness business” by ourselves. That’s all good. But it’s a pretty high bar, all the same. We could read this, as does Martin Luther, as an example of the “second use” of the Law. Since this is an impossible standard for sinners, the Sermon should drive us into the merciful arms of a gracious God who sends Jesus to be our righteousness. In that reading, Jesus demands of us things we cannot do, whether alone or together.

I don’t buy this perspective. It uses a first-century text to answer sixteenth-century problems. When we apply that solution to our twenty-first century context, we get even further off the track. I think A.J. Levine gets much closer to Jesus’ intentions in the sermon. “The Sermon on the Mount is not a counsel of despair,” she writes, “it is a hymn of praise not only to God but for all of creation.” In fact, Levine argues that Jesus thinks we are fabulous creatures.

“Thus the Sermon on the Mount resembles,” Levine continues, “in part, a theological pep talk. Good pep talks, or revivals, don’t just make us feel better about ourselves,” she argues. “They inspire us not just to feel better but to do better: try harder, dig more deeply, find the resources needed for living the life to which God is calling us.”

Could it be that our text for today is an appreciative invitation to be what we are in Christ? Our text is not an exhortation to become something. It is not a promise that under certain conditions we will achieve a certain status. “You (pl.) ARE the salt of the earth…You (pl.) ARE the light of the world…” It is possible to act like these descriptions are not true. But such counter-action won’t deny the reality. It will just make for useless disciples.

Once again, the way to hold all this together is to hold together the “work” and “person” of Christ. Jesus is indeed “God with us” to save us from our sins. We are freed from the powers of sin, death, and the devil through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. That, however, is the beginning of our life with Christ, not the end.

We are also freed for a life together of love for the neighbor (and the enemy, as it turns out). “But for the gospels themselves, that rescue of individuals,” N. T. Wright notes, “is designed to serve a larger purpose: God’s purpose, the purpose of God’s kingdom. And in God’s kingdom,” Wright continues, “human beings are rescued, are delivered from their sin, in order to take their place (as Jesus already called the disciples to take theirs) not only as receivers of God’s forgiveness and new life, but also as agents of it” (After You Believe, page 112).

Salt and light actually do things in the world. Salt and light people, disciples, live as if the Kingdom has come near. As N. T. Wright puts it, “the life to which Jesus called his followers was the kingdom-life – the life which summoned people to be kingdom-agents through the kingdom-means” (After You Believe, page 124). The balance of the Sermon will give examples of these kingdom-means and what it looks like to bring them about.

These examples are, however, not merely a sort of discipleship checklist. Instead, they are signs that the kingdom has indeed come near. Being salt and light will certainly produce good outcomes for some of the least, the lost, the lonely. More than that, however, being salt and light are signs that the change has begun – both in the hearts of disciples and in the life of the world.

References and Resources

Carter, Warren. Matthew and the Margins: A Sociopolitical and Religious Reading (Bible and Liberation). Orbis Books. Kindle Edition.

Charles, Mark, and Rah, Soong-Chan. Unsettling Truths: The Ongoing, Dehumanizing Legacy of the Doctrine of Discovery. Intervarsity Press, 2019.

Hauerwas, Stanley. Matthew (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible). Baker Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Levine, Amy-Jill. Sermon on the Mount: A Beginner’s Guide to the Kingdom of Heaven. Abingdon Press, 2020.

Smith, Robert H. Matthew (Augsburg Commentary on the New Testament). Augsburg, 1989.

Wright, N. T. After You Believe: Why Christian Character Matters. HarperOne, 2010.

Wright, N.T. Matthew for Everyone, Part 1: Chapters 1-15 (The New Testament for Everyone). Westminster John Knox Press. Kindle Edition.

“For I am telling you that unless your justice greatly exceeds that of the scribes and the Pharisees, you shall certainly not enter into the Kingdom of the heavens” (Matthew 5:20, my translation).

The “Kingdom of the heavens” (KOTH) appears as a phrase in the Matthean account over thirty times. That total doesn’t include the tangential, indirect, and incomplete references to the KOTH. Moreover, the Matthean author devotes an entire chapter (Matthew 23) to the “woes” of the scribes and the Pharisees. This relationship between the practices of the scribes and the Pharisees and “justice” is a significant concern for the Matthean author and community.

Since this phrase occurs so many times and has such a prominent place in the Matthean account, interpreters will need to clear up some misapprehensions on the part of our hearers. This is not about some “heaven” in another place and/or time. “Heaven is God’s space, where full reality exists, close by our ordinary (‘earthly’) reality and interlocking with it,” N. T. Wright reminds us. “One day heaven and earth will be joined together for ever, and the true state of affairs, at present out of sight, will be unveiled” (page 36).

That understanding, of course, will cause some confusion and discomfort to people who are accustomed to thinking of “heaven” exclusively as “pie in the sky in the sweet by and by.” For that reason, I think I will lead my people through a Bible study on resurrection during the Easter season. But for now, it bears some mention for the sake of ongoing clarity.

Wright has a good summary paragraph in this regard. “The life of heaven – the life of the realm where God is already king – is to become the life of the world, transforming the present ‘earth’ into the place of beauty and delight that God always intended. And those who follow Jesus are to begin to live by this rule here and now. That’s the point of the Sermon on the Mount…” (page 37).

Robert Smith puts it this way. “To say that this kingdom or sovereign rule is ‘of heaven’ or ‘of God’ is not to locate it in the heavens above but to assert that it has its source in heaven or in God, that it comes as a gift from above, and that it is something wholly different from earthly kingdoms and sovereignties” (page 48).

Warren Carter offers some overview and summary of what the Matthean author might mean by “greatly exceeds.” This language assumes that the scribes and Pharisees “think justice important and ascribes some doing of it to them, but somehow it is not adequate” (page 142). This is not about replacing or superseding the justice of the scribes and Pharisees. This is, as Jesus notes, about “fulfilling” it.

In this regard, I think it’s helpful to read Matthew 23:1-7. “Then Jesus was speaking to the crowds and to his disciples as he said, ‘The scribes and the Pharisees are seated upon the chair of Moses. Therefore, all of that which they might say to you, you shall do and  observe, but you shall not do according to their works; for they are saying also what they are not doing’” (Matthew 23:1-3, my translation).

Here is the problem Jesus identifies. The things the scribes and Pharisees prescribe from the teaching chair of Moses – the Torah (law) – are appropriate for the crowds and the disciples. But the key is that they have to do it, not just hear it. That, in the Matthean account, is consistently the “more” that disciples add to the conduct and practice of the scribes and the Pharisees.

“The inadequacy is perhaps clarified first of all by recalling that in the imperial society Pharisees and scribes belong to the societal elite,” Carter writes, “the governing group in alliance with Rome, with a vested interest in maintaining, not reforming, the current, hierarchical, unjust societal structure” (page 143).

Whether that is true of all the scribes and Pharisees is a contested point among scholars. The Matthean author is engaging in some stereotyping here, and the interpreter must be cautious not to translate this into anti-Judaism or supersessionism. However, it may be the case that some scribes and Pharisees fit the image portrayed. It’s important in this regard first of all “to do no harm” when it comes to blanket descriptions of “the Jews.”

The problem with the justice of the Pharisees, Carter continues, “may be that it leaves the status quo of Roman domination intact. They do not practice,” Carter writes, “a transformative ‘justice, mercy, and faith’ as an alternative way of life that challenges the status quo and reflects the presence and triumph of God’s empire over all, including imperial ways” (page 143).

“The Pharisees quite understandably tried to observe the law without that observance being recognized as subversive to those who ruled them,” Hauerwas argues, “Yet that is exactly what Jesus will not let those who would be faithful to God’s calling of Israel, those who would be his disciples, do or be” (page 67).

What follows in the balance of Matthew 5, then, is a series of examples. These examples illustrate some of the ways that disciples can indeed greatly exceed the justice of the scribes and the Pharisees. As Carter notes, the exceeding will be described in Matthew 5:48 as a “perfection” or “wholeness” or “completion” that resembles the character of “our heavenly Father.”

To enter into the KOTH, then, is to “participate in the completion of God’s purposes already encountered in part in Jesus’ proclamation and healing” (page 143). This is not “works righteousness,” as some Protestants might worry. “The saved, the ransomed, the redeemed are empowered to practice righteousness and are summoned to it,” Robert Smith writes. “Matthew’s portrait of Jesus will disappoint anyone who imagines that discipleship should mean escape from morality into spiritual experience” (page 93).

Rather, as Smith writes, “from every page of Matthew’s Gospel, a consistent picture emerges. Jesus pursues the divine intention in the Law (whether written or oral), and not only pursues it but practices it, and not only practices it but teaches it, and teaches it,” Smith concludes, “not only in his earthly ministry but also as the resurrected one (28:19)” (page 92).

“The sermon, therefore,” Hauerwas writes, “is not a list of requirements, but rather a description of the life of a people gathered by and around Jesus. To be saved is to be so gathered” (page 61). Just as we make theological mistakes when we separate the person and work of Christ, so we make ethical mistakes when we separate the “person” and “work” of the Church.

This refusal to separate faith and works produces a faith community that refuses to remain invisible to the larger culture. Hauerwas points to Bonhoeffer’s argument in this regard. “Visibility and difference is the result of being pulled into the way of life made possible by Jesus,” Hauerwas writes, “So the Sermon on the Mount is a description of a way of life of a people, a people of a new age that results from following this man” (page 63).

Following this man leads us to a specific place in history and geography – another mountain in the Matthean account. “Jesus does not seek to violently overthrow Rome, because his kingdom is an alternative to the violence of Rome as well as to those who would overthrow Rome with violence,” Hauerwas continues.

“His kingdom, however, cannot avoid being subversive. That subversion is the righteousness that exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees,” Hauerwas argues, “and as such is a subversion that will result in his crucifixion, for rather than violently overthrowing the old order Jesus creates a people capable of living in accordance with the new order in the old” (page 67).

Mark Charles and Soong-Chan Rah connect the imperial theology of Christian invisibility to the realities of White Christian Nationalism. Those realities are rooted in the deformed theology of White European Christian exceptionalism and supremacy. That deformed theology has been in process since the reign of the Emperor Constantine and continues to drive our current racist realities in the Western world. It is a deformed theology that produces, underwrites, and even celebrates Christian “invisibility.”

“Christendom is the prostitution of the church to the empire that created a church culture of seeking power rather than relationships,” the authors write. “Jesus laid down his life, but the empire must save its life. Jesus emptied himself, but the empire must protect and expand itself. There is a fundamental conflict between the goal of the earthly empire and the direction of the kingdom of God. Greatness in the world and great in the kingdom of God,” they conclude, “stand in opposition” (page 66).

This paragraph is much closer to the Sermon on the Mount than most of what passes these days for “orthodox” (White”) theology. Buckle up, preachers. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.

References and Resources

Carter, Warren. Matthew and the Margins: A Sociopolitical and Religious Reading (Bible and Liberation). Orbis Books. Kindle Edition.

Charles, Mark, and Rah, Soong-Chan. Unsettling Truths: The Ongoing, Dehumanizing Legacy of the Doctrine of Discovery. Intervarsity Press, 2019.

Hauerwas, Stanley. Matthew (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible). Baker Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Smith, Robert H. Matthew (Augsburg Commentary on the New Testament). Augsburg, 1989. Wright, N.T. Matthew for Everyone, Part 1: Chapters 1-15 (The New Testament for Everyone). Westminster John Knox Press. Kindle Edition.

See POWELL, MARK ALLAN. “Matthew’s Beatitudes: Reversals and Rewards of the Kingdom.” The Catholic Biblical Quarterly 58, no. 3 (1996): 460–79. http://www.jstor.org/stable/43722717.

Are the Beatitudes about “reversals” or “rewards”? Mark Allan Powell answers that question with a confident “Yes.” According to Powell’s analysis, the Beatitudes devote one stanza to each subject with a concluding beatitude at the end. Warren Carter notes that he relies in large part on Powell’s analysis. It’s worth reading the original article for a deeper understanding.

This two-stanza poetic structure “marks the Beatitudes as one of the most carefully crafted passages in the Gospel. Unless no other option exists,” Powell argues, “Matthew’s readers should not be forced to decide between finding meaning for the individual verses and finding meaning for the collection as a whole” (page 461). Some middle ground in this regard would certainly help us as preachers, too.

Most scholars regard Matthew 5:3-10 as a unit to which Matthew 5:11-12 is added – at least in structural terms. As Powell notes, we change from the second person plural in the main body to the third person plural in the conclusion. The first unit has the bookends of “the kingdom of the heavens” to mark its limits. The verbs of the second unit are in the imperative rather than the indicative mood. So far, so good.

Now for the two stanzas. Verses three through six and verses seven through ten each contain precisely thirty-six words in the Greek. Verses three through six use a sort of alliteration. Each of the groups begins in Greek with the “p” sound. Warren Carter identifies them as the poor in spirit, the plaintive, the powerless, and those who pine for righteousness (page 131). I like that a lot! And both verses 6 and 10 end with a reference to righteousness, creating a parallelism of stanza endings.

“Acceptance of a two-stanza structure allows for a compromise solution to the reversal-reward debate,” Powell concludes, “the first stanza (5:3-6) speaks of reversals for the unfortunate, and the second stanza (5:7-10) describes rewards for the virtuous” (page 462). We’ll hold off on the structural role of verses eleven and twelve for now.

I think that, for the preacher, this analysis is most helpful. The Matthean author is not commending poverty of spirit, mourning, meekness, and starving for righteousness. These are not the “Be-Happy Attitudes.” These challenging circumstances and states will be reversed when the Kin(g)dom comes in its fullness.

Part of the call of discipleship is to resist the powers that bring about these states and to begin to live as if they are real in the here and now. “The first four beatitudes critique the political, economic, social, religious and personal distress that results from the powerful elite who enrich their own position at the expense of the rest,” Warren Carter writes in his commentary. “They delineate the terrible consequences of Roman power” (page 131).

The Matthean author is, on the other hand, commending mercy, purity of heart, peacemaking, and endurance when persecuted. These are behaviors that reflect the Kin(g)dom in its fullness. They are marks of the path of discipleship in the here and now. They are practices to be encouraged and formed.

“The remaining four, and the elaboration in vv. 11-12,” Carter writes, “concern human actions which, inspired by the experience of God’s reign in vv. 3-6, are honored or esteemed because they express God’s transforming reign until God’s completion of it” (page 131).

While I can understand Powell’s label for the first stanza as “resistance,” I’m not so sure about his label for the second stanza as “reward.” That will take some more reflection. But first, back to the structural analysis.

Powell argues that this two-stanza solution encourages the assumption that the beatitudes are really for the whole world and not just for the Church. That assumption is contested, and Powell goes on to wrestle with the evidence.

While Powell doesn’t include this in his analysis, I am wondering about Hebraic parallelism within the stanzas as well. What I’m wondering is if we can use lines in this poetry to interpret and expand each other? For example, there’s great similarity between “poor in spirit” and “meek.” I suspect that these ideas are intended to “rhyme” in the style of Hebrew poetry, such as some of the Psalms.

I think it’s interesting to look at the possible parallels between “mourning” and “hungering and thirsting for righteousness.” It is likely that what’s being mourned is the continuing internal exile of God’s chosen as the various empires hold them captive. On the other hand, anyone who has grieved wonders how their loss is right, just, or fair.

In the next stanza, the parallels between the merciful and the peacemakers are not hard to see. It’s again interesting to wonder what parallels exist between the pure in heart and those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness. Purity of heart may not be simply some sort of innocence or (as Kierkegaard said) the ability “to will one thing.” Perhaps it is the passion for God’s justice and the willingness to suffer in pursuit of that justice which marks real purity of heart for the disciples.

In any event, this sort of analysis reduces the pressure on the preacher to come up with a definition for each of the Beatitude classes. However, I would commend to you Powell’s discussion of the various terms in use here. That discussion is instructive. That being said, this is a poem that has within it resources for interpretation, if we know where to look.

Let me quote Powell’s summary of the first four beatitudes here.

“In short, all of the first four beatitudes speak of reversal of circumstances for those who are unfortunate. Contrary to popular homiletical treatments, being poor in spirit, mourning, being meek, and hungering and thirsting for righteousness or justice are not presented here as characteristics that people should exhibit if they want to earn God’s favor. Rather, these are undesirable conditions that characterize no one when God’s will is done” (page 469).

Powell notes that the grammar makes something clear. The Matthean Jesus is using the third person plural in verses three through ten. This is about “those people,” not exclusively about the disciples. Jesus switches to a second person plural in verse eleven when he addresses the disciples directly. The Beatitudes, Powell argues, are not limited to the Church. These are not entrance requirements for the Kin(g)dom. These are the people for whom the coming Kin(g)dom will in fact be a blessing (page 470).

Now, on to the second stanza. Powell argues that these verses promise eschatological rewards to people who exhibit virtuous behavior. But, Powell says, the text is more specific than that. He suggests that “the people whom Jesus declares blessed in 5:7-10 are those who help to bring to reality the blessings promised to others in 5:3-6” (page 470). Once again, Powell has some detailed description and discussion of each of the verses in this stanza.

Powell offers a summary for the second stanza that parallels his summary of the first. “When God’s kingdom comes, and God’s will is done, no one will have to be poor in spirit, mourn, be meek, or hunger and thirst for righteousness, but everyone who is ruled by God and does God’s will is merciful, pure in heart, committed to peacemaking, and willing to suffer for the sake of righteousness” (page 475).

Powell goes on to note the ironic connection between the stanzas. This connection, he suggests, “lies in the realization that those who practice the virtues described in the second stanza may on that account come to be numbered among those described in the first stanza on whose behalf these virtues are exercised” (pages 475-476). In Warren Carter’s terms, my voluntary action on behalf of the involuntarily marginalized may result in my joining them on the margins (please see the previous post).

That temporary change in status, however, does not change God’s goals for all people, according to Powell. “God’s rule sets things right,” he concludes, “for all oppressed people” (page 476). “Whether the coming of God’s kingdom is perceived as bringing reversal or reward depends only on the position that one occupies prior to its advent,” Powell writes, “God’s rule sets things right. Those for whom things have not been right are blessed by the change it brings, and those who have been seeking to set things right are blessed by the accomplishment of what they have sought” (page 477).

And what about the ninth beatitude in Matthew 5:11-12? While God’s rule is intended to set things right for all people, Jesus’ words are most directly applicable to the disciples themselves (and to all disciples in future generations). “Fundamental to all the beatitudes,” Warren Carter writes, “is the establishment of God’s justice or righteousness by removing oppressive societal relationships and inadequate distribution of resources” (page 131).