Jesus’s Final Blessing: A Tender Revealing of His Heart
I’ve always thought the final Beatitude is the hardest. Persecution is a heavy topic, one that many of us have the luxury of not thinking about.
It brings me to Thailand, in the summer of ’03. Sitting in a huddle on the floor, my teammates and I were transfixed as the pastor of our partner church shared his story. How he’d walked many miles, barefoot and both ways, to attend Bible school. How he’d sold all but two pairs of clothing in order to keep the church building. How he and his wife struggled with infertility but God gave them children in a beautiful, unlikely way.
As he told of going into the rural villages to share the hope of the gospel, children accepting the warm love of Jesus but then being disowned by their families and villages, and a family that kept growing because there was always room for another one—our eyes slowly began to meander. Around the room, seated amongst us, were over a dozen young teens. Children given a home. A new family. A brand-new life.
They got it. What Jesus was talking about in the Beatitudes about the blessing that is reserved for those persecuted. The indescribable joy that emanates from eyes witness to what wrings hot tears from the heart of God.
A Final, Special Blessing
The Passion Translation phrases Matthew 5:10-11 like this,
How enriched you are when you bear the wounds of being persecuted for doing what is right! For that is when you experience the realm of heaven’s kingdom.
How ecstatic you can be when people insult and persecute you and speak all kinds of cruel lies about you because of your love for me! So leap for joy—since your heavenly reward is great. For you are being rejected the same way the prophets were before you.
Perhaps you have walked an indescribably painful road, tasted God’s tears in a deeply personal way, or have another’s story seared in your heart. Or that day is coming, but you haven’t lived it yet. You think this last blessing in Jesus’s message is either for you, or it’s not.
Let’s pause a moment, though.
We tend to shuffle people into categories, ourselves included. But the human heart, with its flaws and misgivings, is a great equalizer. We’re all privy to things that tug us in the wrong direction, topple our good intentions, divide our attention. Not one of us can hide the clouded and broken in our hearts that God can see at a glance. It’s only through grace that can any of us come close.
The Jesus who blessed the persecuted is the same God we see throughout Scripture as concerned with the condition of the heart. Maybe there’s something here for all of us. A table with space for every last one of us, along with our stories.
A Tender Revealing of God’s Heart
As much as God is concerned with our hearts, I’d say the final Beatitude is His way of showing us His heart. He’s not deaf to desperate cries or blind to injustice. He’s incredibly grieved when people hurt other people. That’s why He treats the persecuted with such tenderness.
But there’s more, I believe. Because He looks at you too and says, “Come. Come here. Let me hold you tight. Lift your tear-stained face. Gaze into your eyes.”
Interestingly, the word translated as “persecuted” in this Beatitude means “being rejected” in Aramaic, according to the footnote in The Passion Translation (Dr. Brian Simmons). This broadens Jesus’s blessing to include those ridiculed for standing up for truth. Those canceled, gossiped about, not invited, or avoided for loving Him.
God doesn’t dismiss the pain you’ve experienced. He knows the way slights and silence and misconceptions wound the heart. Knows that rejection stings no matter who you are or how visibly it affects your life.
That thing you’re trying to stuff down or get over, it hurts Him too. He knows all of it. And there’s a special spot right next to Him with your name on it.
Jesus promises that those rejected and persecuted for His sake “experience the realm of heaven’s kingdom” (Matt. 5:10 TPT). And maybe it’s the perspective we get when we’re sitting in His lap, because the hard and unfair things help us find our way there.
What Makes God Cry
God’s heart is crushed when His children are mistreated in vile and horrific ways. Expanding the definition doesn’t negate that. If anything, it’s a wake-up call to stand in the gap for those who don’t get to choose what outlines their everyday.
“True spirituality that is pure in the eyes of our Father God,” according to James 1:27, “is to make a difference in the lives of the orphans, and widows in their troubles, and to refuse to be corrupted by the world’s values” (TPT).
Our faith is merely words unless it overflows into action. Because knowing the heart of our Father is to be moved by the things that squeeze tears from His kind eyes.
God shows up both compassionate and vulnerable as He concludes the Beatitudes. Gifts us insight into what makes Him cry. And with that knowledge, comes a hand extended—an invitation to walk with Him and learn from Him and love like Him.
We can nestle in, knowing that we’re welcome no matter how much or how little we’re suffered. Witness God’s tears spill because we’re near enough to know. Receive His love that binds the fissures in our hearts so we can extend it to others walking through the darkest alleys and holding insurmountable pain.
The Ripple Effect of Knowing His Heart
Our mission? I’ll turn to a passage my team adopted that summer we spent in Thailand. It’s Isaiah 61:1-3. Let’s read it together in The Passion Translation:
The mighty Spirit of Lord Yahweh is wrapped around me because Yahweh has anointed me, as a messenger to preach good news to the poor. He sent me to heal the wounds of the brokenhearted, to tell captives, “You are free,” and to tell prisoners, “Be free from your darkness.”
I am sent to announce a new season of Yahweh’s grace and a time of God’s recompense on his enemies, to comfort all who are in sorrow, to strengthen those crushed by despair who morn in Zion—to give them a beautiful bouquet in the place of ashes, the oil of bliss instead of tears, and the mantle of joyous praise instead of the spirit of heaviness.
Because of this, they will be known as Mighty Oaks of Righteousness, planted by Yahweh as a living display of his glory.
It’s Jesus’s WHY. And because we’re family, it’s also ours.
Let’s pray.
Jesus, thank you for Your tender heart. The way You care. The way You invite us close.
Show us the tears You cry for those who suffer for Your sake, and show us the ones You cry for us.
Teach us to walk with You. Learn from You. Love like You.
Just a friend over here in your corner,
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