Beatitudes for those Who Hug Trees 

The Beatitudes! One of the most wonderful, famous, affirming, and challenging passages of scripture. Here, we hear the Blessings, which we’ll get to in a moment. However, to begin, in light of the climate catastrophe we live in today, I feel it is important to name the other side of this coin of blessing. What we miss in this week’s gospel are the woes—woes which, frankly, are perhaps most spiritually important for most of us in the fossil-fuel-addicted western world to hear. Interestingly, Luke includes words of woe, Matthew does not.

Reflecting on the balance of blessings and woes, I similarly notice the balance of God’s justice and mercy. To name a few instances of this dance in scripture: the Flood followed by the Rainbow, Jonah’s themes of mercy balanced by Nahum’s blaring words of judgement/justice–the Babylonian exile followed by a renewed Promise—and here, blessings followed by woes. It feels important to echo this balance through preaching. As creation advocates, it might be hard not to focus on the woes–the prevailing, pressing need for us as people of faith to be spiritually slapped in the face and acknowledge how wealth, filling up, ‘laughing’ and turning away from the needs of the world outside the window are fundamental roots of disconnect causing the climate crisis. The climate crisis is a spiritual crisis.

 Yet, herein lies a gift of the lectionary—we ‘have’ to abide in blessedness, in mercy—we ‘get’ to focus on it this time. Alleluia. And! I encourage us together to not solely celebrate and affirm. In light of climate injustice, if we speak to a faith community with large carbon footprints, it would be disingenuous to pat ourselves on the back with blessing. Again, let us preach mercy in-step with justice.  

All the same, Beatitudes for those Who Hug Trees are framed by this detail I love: our first phrase, “when Jesus saw the crowds…” My dear friend and mentor Andrea has wisely directed me towards noticing the verbs of scripture. Here, maybe we imagine and invite the communities we accompany to visualize the scene, put ourselves in the crowd or as a disciple alongside Jesus on the mount: being seen by Jesus. Imagine how many people are there, why they are there, what they feel; what emotion Jesus felt, and feels, upon seeing us. The Creator of all creation sees us. Hallelujah!

Held in Jesus’s loving gaze, let’s explore the Beatitudes broken up by prompts we might use as launching points to celebrate creation and those who defend all God has made:

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. And he began to speak and taught them, saying:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Epiphany is all about realizations—manifestations! Jesus flips the narrative of “God’s blessed” from well-dressed, seemingly righteous, law-thumbing scribes and Pharisees to those who are poor in spirit. Whoa! Today, perhaps we can lift up those who are downcast and feeling hopeless in the face of climate change and the tragedies of the oil-influenced invasion in Venezuela, murder of Renee Good in Minneapolis, the mass killings of protesters in Iran. Could those who are deeply, emotionally, spiritually distraught by these atrocities be ‘blessed’? (Yes.) How can we preach to this distress and speak comfort (mercy) while also building and sending out our communities (justice)?

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. 

I notice people who divest their investments from fossil fuel companies or financial institutions (one of the most important steps we can take as everyday consumers, by the way!), shop second-hand, eat plant-based, bike everywhere, things of this sort—often feel dejected. All they do and try to encourage others to do cannot bring the J-curve (the exponential increase in greenhouse gases in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution) down. Yet living in accordance with beatitude values does matter—following, stumbly and imperfectly all the same, matters. It brings about the kin-dom. May we and our congregants consider how compassionate choices matter. May we realize lament is spiritually important, and mourn the losses of life climate change brings every day. As creation advocates, may we mourn and be blessed in our mourning when we see large-scale and commonplace choices harm life day in and day out. May we resist a master narrative of ‘this is just how it is’ and dream.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 

Speaking our faith; speaking to creation care, might conjure up images of inspiring young leaders in the streets surrounded by thousands, politicians in suits at COP showered with applause—these can be meaningful moments of progress, and, speaking our faith; speaking to creation care, can be a timid, gentle: saying “let’s stop buying styrofoam cups” at church council. “Let’s try composting,” “I’d like to plant a few pollinator flowers.” Echoing Jesus’s divine appearance to us in a stable, a member of the community showing meekness is profound strength to be celebrated and encouraged.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. 

Creation advocacy/care/climate/environmental justice are righteous! We could name leaders who hunger and thirst for righteousness in our communities. We could lift up international leaders such as Greta Thunberg, David Attenborough, or Bill McKibben. We might celebrate and read passages from authors such as Sheila Watt-Cloutier, Amatov Ghosh, or Pope Francis.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

To hug trees, one has to be merciful and pure of heart. There has to be some level of seeing beyond all the facades of our fossil fuel economy and return to ‘who we are.’ There has tobe gentleness. If we want to expound on this line of the Beatitudes, perhaps we could creativity wonder about spiritual practices. How can we cultivate affinity for creation? Be kinder towards one another? Immerse ourselves outside, lay on the ground and ‘let Earth heal us?’ We purify our hearts from ‘the ways of the world,’ by regularly returning to our roots as creation. “And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair” Khalil Gibran.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

​I’m not an expert on the following subjects, and there is nuance to everything, but it has been made known to me the interrelatedness of ‘environmental’ issues and ‘human’ suffering. Again: we are not separate! The two are inextricably linked. How might we preach to this intersection? Uprisings in Syriamay have been brought to tipping points by widespread drought, perpetuated by climate change. Covid-19’s existence may be related to mass deforestation. Being creation advocates, defenders, speaking for the trees–these are actions of peace.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

​Creation is all God has made: everyone, every ‘thing.’ Through preaching and teaching, we can apply these two Beatitudes to just about ‘anything.’ What righteous movements and actions are taking place in our communities to which we could connect? Where is love and protection of our most vulnerable neighbors happening? I see the kin-dom of heaven break through in voices of courage; when people speak up and are disagreed or are even ‘persecuted’ for it. I see the kin-domwhen people show up during times of tragedy and injustice, standing against regimes which harm our neighbors. I see the kin-dom in accountability, compassion, forgiveness. What are you seeing? Where do you see the kin-dom breaking through in defense of creation? When Jesus looks at the crowds, what is he seeing now?