Über die Autorinnen und Autoren

John D. Schroeder is a freelance writer and has written more than fifteen study guides for small groups, including the Leader's Guides for Sisters: Bible Study for Women. He has also coauthored four books, including How to Start and Sustain a Faith-Based Small Group, How to Start and Sustain a Faith-Based Young Adult Group, Dear Lord! They Want Me to Give the Devotions, and Dear Lord! They Want Me to Give the Devotion Again. John has been a newspaper reporter, and a copy editor and director of communications for several corporations. He currently lives in Minneapolis.


J. Ellsworth Kalas (1923-2015) was the author of over 35 books, including the popular Back Side series, A Faith of Her Own: Women of the Old Testament, Strong Was Her Faith: Women of the New Testament, I Bought a House on Gratitude Street, and the Christian Believer study, and was a presenter on DISCIPLE videos. He was part of the faculty of Asbury Theological Seminary since 1993, formerly serving as president and then as senior professor of homiletics. He was a United Methodist pastor for 38 years and also served five years in evangelism with the World Methodist Council.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Beatitudes From the Back Side

Abingdon Press

Chapter One

Some years ago, during a church conference in California, the Reverend Faith Conklin approached me in a bookstore to thank me for the books I have written. She then went on to suggest a book she hoped I would write someday. I was grateful for both words. Authors don't have that many opportunities to talk with the persons who have read their books, so a word of thanks is always welcome. But so, too, is an idea for another book because often readers know better than authors what people are interested in reading.

"I wish you'd do another book with your 'Back Side' approach," she said. "The Beatitudes from the Back Side." I agreed readily that it was a good idea, but I explained that it was also a very difficult one.

It's not only that the Beatitudes—a series of blessings spoken by Jesus—are a challenging subject; the point is that they're already "from the back side." If we approach the Beatitudes just the way they appear in the Sermon on the Mount (see Matthew 5:3-12; Luke 6:20-23), we discover within the first sentence that we are looking at things in a manner utterly at odds with our usual outlook on life. From where we generally live out our lives, the Beatitudes seem so contrary as to be coming from "the back side."

And all the more so because of their key word, blessed. This is a very upbeat word. The synonyms for the particular Greek word that is used in the New Testament include "supremely blest," "fortunate," "happy." In the late William Barclay's translation of the New Testament, that fascinating British scholar began each sentence, not with "blessed," but with "O the bliss!"

Ironically, therefore, the Beatitudes are introduced to us with the kind of language we love in the Western world. Anything that has to do with happiness is the stuff on which advertisers and sales executives build their careers. And of course in America we see such a life as our divine right so that we've written it into our Declaration of Independence: We believe that humans "are endowed, by their Creator, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness." We think we not only have a right to happiness, we even have a right to pursue it.

But when we start examining the Beatitudes we realize that in Jesus' view happiness is not something we get by pursuing it; indeed, almost the contrary. We're told that we will be happy—or blessed, if you prefer—in what appears to be the near antithesis of happiness. If we choose to live by the Beatitudes, we make a declaration of dependence. We put ourselves in bondage to such things as poverty of spirit, purity of heart, and a readiness for persecution. This isn't the sort of product they advertise on prime-time television; indeed, I'm not sure that it appears overly often in our prime-time worship services. That is because this is not a spiritual quick fix. It doesn't come in a five-easy-lessons capsule. Instead, it is largely contrary to the way we live and to the way we think.

Before we go any further, however, let me say that over the past twenty centuries a very great many people have found in these Beatitudes a depth of peace and joy beyond anything our common culture promotes and seeks. But it isn't easy, and it isn't obvious. And although I intend to do my best with this book, I'm not sure you'll buy into the Beatitudes after you've finished your reading. I say this because even as the author, I struggle to live up to what in my heart I know is true.

I suppose that this is partly because I'm looking for logic in the Beatitudes—that is, logic as I define it. Something in me wants to know why the poor in spirit are blessed, and why or how the meek will inherit the earth. And can you really guarantee that the merciful will receive mercy? I think I've seen some merciful people who, it seems, were exploited because they were so merciful.

The Beatitudes form the introduction to what is no doubt the best-known sermon ever preached. We call it the Sermon on the Mount, and of course it was preached by Jesus. We'll talk more about that later. Just now I want to confess my fascination with the way this sermon begins, because if we have read the New Testament just a bit, the Beatitudes catch us off guard. The Gospel of Matthew tells us that when Jesus began his ministry, he said (in the same style as John the Baptist), "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near" (Matthew 4:17). Repent is not a happy-sounding word. There's a condemnatory quality to it, as if the judge were saying "guilty" before you've even presented your case.

The Beatitudes, by contrast, begin in a wonderfully positive way. Listen to these opening words from the Sermon on the Mount: "Jesus saw the crowds and went up a hill, where he sat down. His disciples gathered around him, and he began to teach them: 'Happy are those who ...'" (Matthew 5:1-3 GNT, emphasis added). That's how Jesus began. Not "Repent," not "Be sorry," not even "Do" or "Be," but "Happy." At first hearing, you might think Jesus was changing his approach from the earlier preaching, as if he were trying to be more audience-friendly. But by the end of each sentence you realize that our Lord's message is basically as unsettling as ever—and as contrary to much of our usual thinking. He does want us to know, however, that the way he invites us to join him is ultimately and dramatically a blessed and happy one. He does not pretend that it is easy, but it is blessed.

I suspect that most of us need to work on a better definition of happiness. The word has its problems, of course. Happy is built on the root word hap, which means "chance"—as when we say happen or happenstance. This would make it seem as if happiness were a gamble, and perhaps with bad odds at that. But the Beatitudes are in no way chancy; there is no sense of uncertainty in them. Jesus said, "Happy are ..." and he added no qualifying phrase such as "in many instances," "given the right circumstances," or "in certain age or economic groups."

Around the middle of the twentieth century, Henry C. Link, at the time probably America's best-known psychologist, came back to the Christian faith. In his book The Return to Religion, he took issue with those who measured the abundant life in terms of dollars and the things money can buy. He called such thinking "the most disastrous and destroying ideal which could possibly be offered"; his long years of experience with well-to-do clients were evidence of that. The abundant life, Dr. Link said, "can only be defined in terms of habits, that is, character."

That fits perfectly with the mood of the Beatitudes. These rules of life have nothing to do with have and havenot, or with any circumstances of life, but with character—or perhaps to put it another way, with our very structures of living.

William Barclay, the British Bible scholar to whom I referred earlier, is helpful at this point. He tells us that the word in our Greek New Testament that is translated as "blessed" or "happy" is the word the Greeks used to describe the island of Cyprus. They call it he makaria—that is, "the Happy Isle." They felt that Cyprus was so beautiful and so rich in resources, and so fertile, that a person would never need to go beyond its coastline to find everything...