The lovely Andrea and I were only married for a couple weeks when we walked into Shop and Save for our first grocery shopping trip together. We were ready. We had our shopping cart with the anxious wheel, our grocery list, and I had the calculator. And we had a plan. Andrea pushed the cart and loaded the items into the cart as I added them up on the calculator. And when the calculator read $50, we were supposed to quit. Fifty dollars—that’s really been a few years ago.
Our plan worked for a while. She pushed the cart and I worked the calculator. After weaving in and out of most of the aisles, we were around $48. I broke the silence. “I think we should stop.” But Andrea pointed out we didn’t have anything for breakfast yet. And I pointed out we could eat breakfast next week. Let’s get that cart to the cashier. We might even get credit for fasting.
Andrea wheeled the cart down the cereal aisle. We were dangerously close to $50, but she was right, we still needed breakfast. We didn’t want to eat beef stroganoff at seven in the morning. Andrea reached up, pulled a box of cereal off the shelf, and loaded it in the cart. I punched in the price, and the calculator screamed at me—$51.
I heard sirens. I heard alarms. I heard the sage counsel of married couples who had gone on before us. It felt like a grocery shopping edition of A Christmas Carol. “It’s two bucks this week; bankruptcy next week.” I had to put a stop to our wanton spending at Shop and Save before we lose our apartment and our darling can’t afford college.
“Honey, we can take something back. We don’t need the grapes. I guess we don’t have to have Little Debbies. We can put the cereal back, but something’s going back on the shelf.” Thank God for Andrea. She is the calm one. She assured me, “We’re fine. Let’s just go.” But not on my watch. I reached into our cart, pulled out our box of breakfast, and I marched it back to the shelf like a prison guard to its cell. And I marched triumphantly, pretty proudly back to the cart. “Now we can go.”
Andrea calmly, wisely walked past me, back to the shelf, bailed out the cereal box, dropped it into the cart, looked at me like who are you, and we checked out (over budget) and drove home in stone silence. If you could see our shopping list, it would not have made much sense. We need grapes, and we need basil. There’s no meal on this side of the Mediterranean that mixes those two ingredients together. Shopping for groceries can feel like a mish mash of meals thrown into a cart in hopes we can bring them together for a delicious dinner.
When Jesus climbed a mountain in Matthew 5, He started teaching. He opened His message on the mountain and His ministry by telling His curious audience how to be truly blessed—truly happy. His message was the first message humanity would hear from God since God promised to come to earth and strike the land with a curse if they did not repent.
But Jesus promised blessing, not cursing in Matthew 5.
- Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
- Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
- Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
- Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.
- Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.
- Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
- Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.
- Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 5:3–10)
Jesus’ list feels a little like our shopping list. Jesus taught His audience, “When you’re shopping for ways to be happy, pick up some poverty in spirit, and mourning, and meekness, and hunger. Don’t forget to fill up on mercy, purity in heart, peacemaking, and top it all off with some good, old-fashioned persecution.”
These eight “blessed are” sayings are known as the Beatitudes. They were the first words of Jesus’ first message in His famed Sermon on the Mount. Each beatitude taught everyone in the first century and still teaches everyone in the twenty-first century how to be blessed. But they are not just a shopping list for the soul; just a list of eight virtues to load up on before we leave the store. They’re inseparably interwoven. They’re not like a shopping list at all. They’re more like rungs on an eight-foot ladder. Each one leads to the next one.
It’s a long climb from poor in spirit to persecuted for our faith, but the only way to make that climb—to be able to be persecuted for our faith and rejoice about it—is to place our feet of faith firmly on the bottom rung, understand we have nothing to offer God He did not already give us, and begin to climb closer to Him. Those who read and heed these eight beatitudes are truly blessed: truly happy.
Happy climbing!
If you enjoyed this excerpt from LJ Harry’s new book, Blessed Are: A Practical Look at the Beatitudes, visit this page of Pentecostal Publishing House to learn more and order your copy today.