Sermon for Sunday, November 1, 2026
All Saints’ Sunday
The Beatitudes we have just read are some of the most familiar and recognizable verses from the Gospel of Matthew. Together, they form one of the most memorable passages from all of scripture. We may think of the Beatitudes as near-perfect—a beautiful summary of the good news that Jesus proclaimed—but they are only an introduction to what has come to be called the Sermon on the Mount. It is one of the longest sections in Matthew, stretching through chapters 5, 6, and 7, with Jesus front and center teaching his closest followers and any who would listen about the life of God’s kingdom.
Matthew tells us the crowd was large enough for Jesus to go up on a mountain to be better seen and heard. While it wasn’t a specific mountain range we can point to on a map of the Holy Land, the setting evokes Mount Sinai, picturing Moses climbing the mountain to meet God and descending with the Ten Commandments—the covenant between God and His people. Sitting down as his disciples gathered around him, Jesus began to teach. Teachers at the time usually sat down to teach as a sign of dignity and authority—an image we still see today when a monarch is seated, or when a bishop sits to preach during a parish visit.
The 20th-century theologian Paul Tillich—who left Germany in 1933 and taught at Union Theological Seminary in New York—observed that the words of Jesus seem so clear and straightforward that it is hard to imagine anyone missing their meaning. Yet, when asked to express their meaning in our own words, we discover one level of depth after another and can never exhaust them. Tillich noted that nothing seems simpler, yet nothing is more perplexing, than the Lord’s Prayer, the parables, and the Beatitudes.
Matthew records nine Beatitudes, each beginning with the words “Blessed are.” If you compare Matthew’s account in chapter 5 to Luke’s in chapter 6, you will quickly discover that only these two Gospels record them, and they present them quite differently in wording, length, tone, and interpretation. In Matthew’s account, the Sermon on the Mount takes place in the early days of Jesus’ ministry. He had called his disciples and was traveling throughout Galilee, teaching in synagogues, proclaiming the good news, and healing every disease. Large crowds followed him, and an atmosphere of peace, order, and palpable expectation filled the air—as if people were standing on the doorstep of a new world where life would be better for everyone.
I picture Jesus looking squarely at his disciples and the crowd, his eyes focused and confident as a gifted teacher. He declared:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven.”
While the Beatitudes are worthy of being framed and hung on a wall for their poetic beauty and elegance, they are far more than poetry. They are a manifesto—the articles of God’s kingdom tied to His purpose for us and the world. They function almost as a creed, stating the core principles that followers of Jesus should confess, claim, and exhibit in daily living.
It is vital for Christians to return to the Beatitudes regularly and ponder them—especially when our faith and the gospel feel dry, brittle, or lacking in inspiration. Whenever we lose our vision of God’s kingdom, returning to the Beatitudes in Matthew and Luke helps us rediscover that vision.
In Matthew 5, the Beatitudes are immediately followed by Jesus’ teachings on salt and light: “You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world.” He reminds us that if salt loses its saltiness, it is no longer good for anything, and he calls us to let our light shine before others so they may see our good deeds and glorify our Father in heaven.
The conditions that the Beatitudes address are deeply recognizable and still flourish in our 21st-century world. They challenge us to question the world as it is while seeking deeper faith. Today, as we mark All Saints’ Day, we remember that we are part of a vast fellowship of God’s faithful people stretching across time and space. Returning to the Beatitudes allows us to find something new, inspiring, and fresh—a renewed call to bring God’s kingdom alive in a world He so deeply loves.
On this Feast of All Saints, we bless God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Father Ted Hales