I love the beatitudes.  But like most, I like Matthew’s much better than Luke’s.  Maybe that’s because Luke shares both blessings and curses, and I stand in the place of those cursed, not those blessed.  Like the people of Israel when they entered the promised land, Luke stands on Mt. Gerizim to bless, and Mr. Ebal to curse, for both are appropriate.

We usually connect blessing with wealth, power, family, comfort, and happiness.  We connect curses with poverty, tears, pain, suffering, and mockery.  And this fits what we saw on the two mountains of Gerizim and Ebal.  From Gerizim, the blessings were all of these things, and from Ebal, the curses were all of these as well.  And as is expected, the blessings were for those who obeyed God’s Law and the curses were for those who didn’t.  So how do we interpret Luke’s rendition of beatitudes and woes in light of this?

Jesus blesses not the wealthy and powerful, and not the obedient.  No, Jesus’ blessings are for the poor, the hungry, the weeping, the hated, and the persecuted.  There is no direct mention of the obedience of the people, and from what we read of His disciples, this was seldom the case.  Yet traditionally, blessings come to the obedient, so perhaps we can assume that.  On the other side, Jesus’ woes come to the rich, comfortable, full, laughing, and lauded.  While one would assume that these are the people blessed by God, they are in fact those cursed with woes.

Should we assume that obedience to Jesus will lead to such blessings?  Will truly following Jesus lead to poverty and weeping?  And is wealth and comfort a marker of His curse?  Have we completely flipped the scale here?  That does seem to be Jesus’ way, teachings, and lifestyle.  And if so, then woe to us indeed.

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What do we do when the bible doesn’t fit our expectations?  When people are praised for killing their enemies?  When God turns His back on His people even when they cry out for help?  Or when God acts against His chosen people let alone against anyone?

What about when someone is healed by the faith of their friends?  Or Jesus sets the example of eating with the very people we tell our kids to avoid?  What do we do when the bible doesn’t fit our expectations?

I wrestle with this a lot in my field of study.  The bible isn’t always consistent, it doesn’t always makes sense, and sometimes it makes us wonder.  But usually, the problem we have with it is not a problem with God but with our own expectations.

The book I’m reading right now traces the difference between individualist and collective societies.  Given three images – a baboon, a porcupine, and a banana – someone from an individualist society will pair the animals, a functional pairing, while someone from a collective society will pair the baboon and the banana, a relational pairing.  It is hard for we individualists to think like a first century Jew, a collectivist.  So the idea that someone else’s faith might strengthen the community (versus every person’s faith helps themselves) makes for a strange thought for Americans, the ultimate individualists.  Yet it does.  This fits with the difficulty we have reading the bible as a communal document rather than an individualistic letter or instruction manual.  Yet this was not how Jesus, nor His audience, thought and processed the world.  A man being healed by the faith of his friends makes perfect sense to them, as seen by the Pharisees’ reaction against not an anti-individualist worldview but by Jesus claiming to forgive sins.

“The bible was meant to be read, discussed, and even debated in community,” Klyne Snodgrass says.  And that community must be global or we can’t understand the worldview of the scriptures.

The story of Gideon is the story of fear.  Gideon again and again expresses his fear of his enemies, his own townspeople, and of God Himself.  And while “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,”  this isn’t that kind of fear.  The fear that brings wisdom is the recognition of God’s otherness, supremacy, and rule in our own lives.  The fear of Gideon is more what we experience day to day; doubt, threat, and self-preservation.

Gideon begins his story by threshing wheat, an activity that requires the wind to be effective, in a winepress, a place created to be shielded from the wind.  How often does our fear make our efforts ineffective?

He then has a conversation with God where all he expressed is doubt, in God’s goodness, in himself, in his people, and in God’s promises.  How often does our fear lead us to doubt both God and ourselves?

Accepting God’s command to destroy the altar of the false god Baal in his hometown, he does so at night out of fear of the anger of those he lives with.  How often does our fear make us obey God’s commands but in a way that doesn’t put us at risk?

Gideon requires not one sign from God but two in order to prove Himself to Gideon, and patiently God obliges.  How often do we wait to obey God until we’re sure of the outcome rather than trusting Him, all because of our fear?

God recognizes that Gideon’s army is following the lead of their leader – they are terrified of the coming battle.  So God sends the fearful home, promising to conquer Midian with whatever is left.  How often does our fear “send us home” from serving God?

Gideon still doesn’t believe God will give him victory, so God sends a dream to his enemies to encourage Gideon.  How often has God reassured you in the midst of your fear, reminding you of past victories or promising future ones?

Finally, Gideon and his 300 warriors shout, “boo” at the Midianites and they all turn and kill themselves.  The primary victory comes without Gideon or his people lifting a sword.  How often has God won your victories without you having to do anything but obey?

The story of Gideon is the story of fear.  Gideon again and again expresses his fear of his enemies, his own townspeople, and of God Himself.  And while “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,”  this isn’t that kind of fear.  The fear that brings wisdom is the recognition of God’s otherness, supremacy, and rule in our own lives.  The fear of Gideon is more what we experience day to day; doubt, threat, and self-preservation.

Gideon begins his story by threshing wheat, an activity that requires the wind to be effective, in a winepress, a place created to be shielded from the wind.  How often does our fear make our efforts ineffective?

He then has a conversation with God where all he expressed is doubt, in God’s goodness, in himself, in his people, and in God’s promises.  How often does our fear lead us to doubt both God and ourselves?

Accepting God’s command to destroy the altar of the false god Baal in his hometown, he does so at night out of fear of the anger of those he lives with.  How often does our fear make us obey God’s commands but in a way that doesn’t put us at risk?

Gideon requires not one sign from God but two in order to prove Himself to Gideon, and patiently God obliges.  How often do we wait to obey God until we’re sure of the outcome rather than trusting Him, all because of our fear?

God recognizes that Gideon’s army is following the lead of their leader – they are terrified of the coming battle.  So God sends the fearful home, promising to conquer Midian with whatever is left.  How often does our fear “send us home” from serving God?

Gideon still doesn’t believe God will give him victory, so God sends a dream to his enemies to encourage Gideon.  How often has God reassured you in the midst of your fear, reminding you of past victories or promising future ones?

Finally, Gideon and his 300 warriors shout, “boo” at the Midianites and they all turn and kill themselves.  The primary victory comes without Gideon or his people lifting a sword.  How often has God won your victories without you having to do anything but obey?