Many sayings in the Gospel ought to sound strange if we really considered their meaning. Why, indeed, should those who mourn, hunger, or suffer persecution be called “blessed”? And how can “poverty of spirit” help? Of course, a hungry person who knows that they will soon be fed is happy because they will soon receive what they long for. A person weeping in grief can likewise be happy if they are certain that relief will soon come, as can someone being persecuted who understands that they have only a little longer to endure. Yet all this is still only future happiness, whereas Jesus speaks of these people's blessedness here and now, while the triumph of the Kingdom still lies ahead.

Perhaps we can answer the question by turning to the original meaning of the word “blessed”—or, more precisely, to its Hebrew original, which described a person receiving strength and support from God. Then everything falls into place: all those whom Jesus names can indeed rely on God as they await the coming triumph of the Kingdom that the Saviour brought into the world. And the poverty of spirit He mentions (although Jesus, who spoke Aramaic, most likely simply said “the poor” here) was a necessary condition for receiving help from above: after all, we can entrust ourselves completely to God only when we know for certain that, apart from Him, there is no one and nothing else on which we can truly rely. Then the path into the Kingdom, once unbearably hard, becomes not simple but light, like the burden of which the Saviour speaks.

These words seem deliberately to contradict ordinary human ideas. Why are the poor and hungry, the weeping and rejected, suddenly blessed, while woe is pronounced upon the rich, the full, and those who laugh? One might think that Christ is proclaiming a revolution that will turn the world upside down! The Kingdom of God that He brings to earth really is radically different from the order of the world familiar to us. Relationships within it are founded on the Father's mercy, not on the struggle for survival. Even as believers, we often forget that entirely different laws prevail in this Kingdom. We call happiness what Christ calls woe, and conversely regard His blessings as misfortune. How greatly we must change to become true citizens of this Kingdom!

In their conversations with Jesus, the Pharisees often challenge Him over how He treats various prescriptions and traditions. The Sabbath occupies a central place in these disputes. What may and may not be done on the Sabbath?

In the mind of a Jew of that time, answering this question required serious knowledge of the Law and the commentaries of authoritative teachers. But the way Jesus poses the question turns a theological discussion into a direct challenge to the conscience, which is not limited to teachers and theologians: what may be done on the Sabbath—good or evil? Save life or destroy it? The Gospel teaches us to frame the questions that concern us in precisely this way, for conscience is often the best adviser, even in theology.