For this year’s Advent translations I am working through The Beatitudes from Matthew 5. It is an admittedly shorter translation work than I normally give you this time of year, but it matches what I am working through on Sunday mornings very nicely. The content here will be different from what I am preaching as those are very thematic but here we on the Greenbean blog I will drop a treatment of two Beatitudes each week of Advent.
Before we get to any one verse here, we need to address the most important word, perhaps, in the beatitude and that is the Greek word ‘makarioi.’ Every line starts with that word, so let’s address it here before we dive into 5:3. In the simplest terms ‘makarioi’ means happy. That was common, every day usage. It can also mean fortunate, as in lucky. In fact, lucky is one of the ways some people like to render it.
Most English renderings go with ‘blessed’, which is usually pronounced ‘bless — ed’ rather than the way it is expected, ‘blest’. The word has taken on a life of its own in English liturgical readings that I am afraid it has lost any real meaning because it has been over spiritualized. It’s all rather weird. Because blessed is such spiritual word, it assists us in removing practical applications and meanings, which is unblessed, unfortunate, and unlucky. It makes me unhappy.
See what I did there? The best way to read these lines is Jesus reversing it all: happy are the unhappy, fortunate are the unfortunate, lucky are the unlucky. Blessed are the cursed. The losers are winners.
Those things being said, I will go with the rendering of ‘happy’ for makarioi, but know that is not by any stretch of the imagination iron clad.
Matthew 5:3
Happy are those who are poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
So many things to note here. 1) In Luke’s telling he just says ‘poor’ without the ‘in spirit.’ 2) Spirit here is not the Holy Spirit, but the word is the same word — pneuma. 3) Pneuma means spirit, but it also means wind and breath.
I invite you now to work with me. Poor in spirit could literally also be ‘weak in breath.’ As such, the language could simply mean out-of-breath. Tired. Panting, doubled-over gasping. Happy are those people who are tired. Then what?
Theirs is the kingdom of heaven. The word for heaven is ouranos, which means sky, the domain of the clouds. There is something in here which Jesus is telling us that happy people are those who work hard and are fatigued because they have achieved a different level of living, perhaps a different perspective on the world from above.
There is no future kingdom for the lazy people who don’t know what a hard day’s work is. The future belongs to those who are out-of-breath. Consider, then, this poetic rendering I have made for you:
When you are out of breath, it’s a good thing, because the realm of the clouds will be yours.
Matthew 5:4
Keeping with the translation of makarioi as happy, then, my rendering of the second beatitude is:
Happy are those who are mourning, for they will be comforted.
The big translation decision here is the word ‘comforted’. It comes from the same word group as a very familiar word to New Testament students, that of course is Paraclete, a name for the Holy Spirit prominent in the Gospel of John. In this instance, it is in a verbal form rather than noun but all of the same options come. Comfort is a great word, and ultimately I decided to stick with this traditional rendering because of the ties with Old Testament language such as ‘Comfort, comfort my people’ (Isaiah 40:1).
Yet, it can also mean encourage. Happy are those who mourn, for they will be encouraged. In this verbal sense it can also mean invited. Would you consider an invitation to be included as a remedy to mourning? I can think of several ways this works. Another meaning is exhorted, as in, ‘get back in there and keep at it.’
Regardless of what word we choose, the elixir from Jesus to mourning is of focusing on a preferred future rather than remaining stuck in the past. Comfort heals from the past, consolation provides guidance for the way forward, exhortation teaches about the responsibility to keep at it, and invitation is a request to join the future.
Let’s circle back to Paraclete for a moment. I don’t want to leave that thought just yet. Remember verse 3? I hope you do because we just covered that like, two minutes ago. But in that verse there is the phrase ‘poor in spirit’ and the word for spirit is ‘pneuma’. Clearly, Jesus means a human spirit and not the Holy Spirit. And here, in verse 4, our Lord clearly means the action of comfort and consolation given to someone or some group of people. I want to be clear on the plain reading, and at the same time invite you to FUNTIME! That Matthew has recorded these in this way and aligned the one after the other must be some kind of reference to the Third Person of the Trinity and his ministry among us. Surely so. It is such a delicious thought but there is no way in my mind to connect it all. But here is a shot; Paraclete is often understood as Advocate, as in the Holy Spirit advocates for us. Perhaps Jesus is referring to in a very nuanced way those who mourn will be advocated for in their grievance. Ah, that’s something to ponder.
Which takes us back to mourning and a big question: is it the same thing as grieving? If so, then comfort is as unique and individualized as the grieving process is.
Is this a universal beatitude? Stated in other ways, not everyone is a peacemaker or pure in heart or hungers for righteousness but everyone at some point will mourn. If it is not a universal beatitude, then to whom does it apply and why?
Tracking that grieving trail leads us to another insight. What is it that grieving, mourning people want? They do not want comfort, that is for sure. Indeed, most people are resistant to words or acts of comfort in the midst of their mourning. No, what is it that people who’ve suffered loss want? They want back what they lost, that is what they want. They want the person, the job, the community, the home, whatever was lost and they are mourning back into their lives.
Jesus doesn’t promise them any of that. He never promises a restoration. There is a splash of the cold water of reality along with an empathy which promises comfort.