Just weeks ago, we proclaimed Emmanuel, God is with us. We gathered around the waters of baptism, lifted the voices of our youth, and celebrated new life in Christ. And at the very same time, we have been living amid grief, violence, fear, and uncertainty.

This week, Jesus meets us on the mountain in the Gospel of Matthew and speaks his first sermon, not from a place of power, but from a place of deep seeing. Jesus looks at the crowds, hears their cries, and declares nine times in a row: You are blessed.

Blessed when we are exhausted.
Blessed when we are grieving.
Blessed when we are struggling just to make it through the day.

Before anything else, Jesus names this truth: we are blessed because God is with us.

And this blessing is not meant to be hoarded or individualized. Jesus’ “you” is plural. It is for the crowds on the hillside, for generations past who endured suffering and cried out for mercy, and for all of us today, carrying burdens both seen and unseen.

The kingdom of God does not dwell in the halls of power or where wealth flows easily. God’s reign is found among those on the margins, among those seeking justice, among those showing up for their neighbors even when the cost is high. In these places, love is made manifest.

So how do we lean into this week, living in the tension of the already and the not yet?

We begin by remembering our blessedness—not as a denial of hardship, but as a grounding truth. And from that place, we take up the call of the prophet Micah: to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God—a daily, faithful walk, one step at a time.

Some days will be joyful. Some days will be heavy. And on the days when fear or exhaustion creep in, Martin Luther’s words still ring true: “I am baptized.” Or perhaps for this week, we remind ourselves again and again:

I am blessed.
God is with us.
We are not alone.

May this truth carry you into the days ahead.