Last weekend we were wrapping up the Beatitudes as the introduction to Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount. It ends with a statement of blessing over those that have experienced persecution as a result of following Jesus. While our study is taking us through Matthew, Luke captured this telling of the description of persecution:
22 “Blessed are you when people hate you and when they exclude you and revile you and spurn your name as evil, on account of the Son of Man! 23 Rejoice in that day, and leap for joy, for behold, your reward is great in heaven; for so their fathers did to the prophets. -Luke 6:22–23 (ESV)
What stood out to me in a palpable way was the inclusion of exclusion. Blessed are you when people exclude you…
We all know how that feels. I don’t think any child can escape the moment when they are excluded from a group they thought were their friends. We’ve also likely all been picked last as teams were made for the kickball game at recess or some other event which was both embarrassing and hurtful.
As a parent, there is a hurtful rage when our child finds out everyone was invited to a friend’s birthday party but our child and we watch the hurt wash over them as they realize that life sometimes hurts really bad.
As we get older, we probably have worked with a group that liked to go out together after work but somehow we were never invited to join them.
In recent times it seems that if we don’t check off all of the political boxes, some friends start backing away and if we have a difference of opinion on how to navigate a pandemic, we all of the sudden find ourselves excluded again.
Exclusion is such a harsh punishment because it denies us the very thing that is hardwired into humanity…the desire to be part of a community with others.
Of course, Jesus knew that exclusion was a regular weapon of broken humanity and he wasn’t just saying that being excluded is a blessing, in general.
Jesus was talking about being excluded because of Him. When we see the world differently and our former friends walk away from us, we are still blessed because the Kingdom is here and it is available to us. When we pursue a different way of life than just living “our own truth”, we are blessed because that different way of life is powerful and life giving even if that means people you love walk away from you.
This idea of exclusion, though, messes with me in other ways, too. Who have I excluded? For whom have I fundamentally removed the invitation for community?
I think it’s important not to ignore the blessings of being excluded because we have found something better that the world rejects. I also think it’s important to ask ourselves who we need to include, ourselves.
As we seek to become more like Christ, may we include others in this beautiful journey that He has called us to.
I carry a hurt that runs deep. I know what it feels like to be excluded, ignored, and treated as though I don’t exist.
When my mother married my stepfather, I was just a child. He was never kind to me and was often abusive to my mom. Yet, when he became ill, he asked me to care for him. And without hesitation, I did. I cared for him day and night for nearly two years, sacrificing so much of myself, even though I never truly received love or acceptance from him as his child. I did it because I knew it would help my mother, and because it was the right thing to do.
But when he passed, I was met with rejection and cruelty from his family. At his service, one of his siblings pretended not to know me and even yelled at me as though I were a stranger. I was embarrassed and deeply hurt. This same sibling once told my mother I should not be caring for him, even though he himself had asked me to. It’s hard to understand such hatred when all I ever did was step up when no one else would.
Most of his family refused to even acknowledge me. And then recently, when one of his relatives passed, my mother’s name was mentioned in the obituary while mine was intentionally left out. That choice was done with malice, to erase me, and it reopened a fresh wound—reminding me once again that my love and sacrifices have been dismissed.
I know in my heart I did the right thing. I cared for him out of love, compassion, and duty—not for recognition. But being intentionally excluded and erased hurts more than I can put into words. I may never understand why some people choose hate over grace, but I do know this: I gave of myself selflessly, and that truth can never be taken from me.
And when the pain feels heavy, I lean on God’s word: “Blessed are you when people hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man.” (Luke 6:22)