Blessed in the Mess

February 1, 2026 homily on Micah 6:8 and Matthew 5:1–12 by Pastor Galen

“He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”
– (Micah 6:8)

“Snowcrete” and the Storm That Reveals

This week was the first time in my life that I ever experienced (or even heard) the term “snowcrete.” Last Sunday here in Baltimore we got six or seven inches of snow, followed by several inches of heavy sleet that froze into a thick layer of ice, equivalent to what felt like a 20-inch blizzard. And it’s still with us.

Sub-freezing temperatures all week meant that nothing melted. Instead, we just had to get creative about where to put all the snow and ice.

The snowcrete brought the city to a near standstill. Schools were closed or moved online for the entire week. Events were canceled. Many of us spent hours chipping away at ice just to open our front doors, then to carve a narrow path to the street, and then to dig out our cars.

A week like this brings out both the best and the worst in us, doesn’t it?

On the one hand, we saw incredible kindness. Neighbors shared shovels, checked in on one another, and cleared paths so others could get through. The neighbors on the street behind the church all pitched in to clear the alleyway when the plows never came, making it possible for others to get to work.

For those of us on the receiving end of that kindness, it was deeply moving. Many of us felt genuine gratitude.

And yet, if we’re honest, frustration surfaced too. Frustration toward the city for not plowing our street first, resentment toward absentee landlords for not shoveling their sidewalks. Anger when a parking space someone spent hours digging out was taken.  Frustration with being cooped up inside all week.

Sometimes those feelings even overlapped. Like when the city finally sent a crew to clear the parking lane on Falls Road, but they came at three in the morning. I was grateful they showed up… and also frustrated to be woken from my peaceful slumber.

And so this week gave us a strange mixture—not just of snow and ice, but of gratitude and frustration, kindness and resentment, community and conflict.

But many times, storms, whether literal storms of snow and ice, or storms in life, don’t create these types of emotions. Rather, they have a way of exposing what’s already within us. Storms reveal the capacity for human kindness, and the pent-up frustrations that were already there.

Blessed in the Middle of the Mess

I think this is exactly the kind of situation Jesus was addressing in the Sermon on the Mount.

The people Jesus was speaking to were not living lives of luxury or ease. They were not people who had it all together. They were poor—Matthew calls them “poor in spirit” (Matthew 5:3), while Luke’s parallel sermon refers to them simply as poor (Luke 6:20). In reality, they were likely both.

These were the “working poor”: people who labored hard and still couldn’t get ahead. People putting everything they had into surviving and caring for their families. And just when they thought they were making progress, something happened to set them back—like spending hours digging out a parking spot only to have someone else take it.

These were people who were downtrodden, oppressed, and overlooked. People others stepped on to get ahead.

And yet Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:3).

He continues, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matthew 5:4).

When we mourn, it’s because we cared deeply. People die every day, but we don’t mourn all of them. We mourn those we loved. Grief is a sign of love.

As Alfred, Lord Tennyson famously wrote, “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Over time, grief can soften into gratitude for the love we shared and the moments we had with our loved ones, even as we continue to miss those we have lost.

Jesus goes on: “Blessed are the meek” (Matthew 5:5).

Meekness is not weakness. Meekness is strength under control. It is power restrained by humility and gentleness. The meek are not powerless; they are people who refuse to use their power to harm others. They choose mercy over revenge.

In story after story, meekness is the moment when a hero spares an enemy instead of destroying them. And Jesus says it is the meek, not the ruthless, who will inherit the earth.

Jesus continues: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness” (or, “ justice”) (Matthew 5:6). Blessed are the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake (Matthew 5:7–10).

These, Jesus says, are the ones who will be filled, who will receive mercy, who will see God, and who will be called children of God.

Doing Justice, Loving Kindness, Walking Humbly

In looking at this list that Jesus describes, I’m reminded of the words of the prophet Micah, “What does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” – (Micah 6:8)

Notice how Micah holds together both heart and action. This isn’t just about behaving properly or following rules. It’s about loving justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly.

These aren’t people eager to judge or condemn. These are people who may themselves be struggling, but who long for the world to be made right, not only for themselves, but for their neighbors too.

They hunger and thirst for a world where everyone has enough. They dig and plow and chip away at injustice, not to build a comfortable little cocoon for themselves, but so the whole community can experience something better.

And if we stop and think about it, this is exactly how Jesus himself lived.

Jesus was the very definition of meekness. He had all power, but he kept it in check, and he used it for the good of others. When he was in the wilderness facing hunger, he had the power to turn stones into bread to satisfy his own cravings, but he refused to give into the temptation of the devil to use his power for his own comfort (Matthew 4:1–4). But later, when confronted with a hungry multitude, he exercised his power to multiply five loaves of bread and two fish to feed thousands who were hungry (Matthew 14:13–21).

In that same wilderness, when tempted by the devil, Jesus could have thrown himself down from the temple to prove his identity as the Son of God (Matthew 4:5–7). And when he was hung on the cross, he could have exercised his power to come down from the cross and avoid suffering and shame and death. But instead, throughout his life and his death, he submitted to the slow, painful work of redemption, revealing God’s heart of self-denying sacrificial love.

In the wilderness when tempted by Satan, and throughout his life, Jesus could have seized earthly political power, but instead he chose to prioritize the kingdom of God, a kingdom not bound to one nation or ruler, but open to all.

Choosing the Way of Jesus

So how do we become the kind of people Jesus describes in the Beatitudes? And how do we live lives that the prophet Micah describes — lives that do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God (Micah 6:8)?

It begins with honesty.

Within each of us lives both the capacity for kindness and the desire for power. We are the same people who shovel a neighbor’s sidewalk and silently fume when someone takes “our” parking space. That tension is part of what makes us human.

In recognizing this tension, we acknowledge that we cannot consistently choose the way of Jesus on our own strength.

We need God’s help every single day. 

And the good news is that God gives us what we need when we ask. If we ask for mercy, God grants us mercy. If we ask for forgiveness, God will forgive. If we ask for the power to do what is right, God will provide.

I’m also grateful this morning that we are not left without a guide.

We have Jesus himself as our model, our teacher, and our Savior. In him we see a living, breathing example of what it looks like to live a life of humble obedience. A life that seeks justice, loves kindness, extends mercy, depends on God, and trusts God’s will above all else.

Conclusion

And so, as we come to the Communion Table today, we do not come as people who have it all figured out. We do not come as people who have never strayed from the path, people who have always gotten it right.

Rather, we come as people who need grace. We come hungry, weary, grateful, frustrated, all at once. And here, Christ meets us, feeds us, and sends us back out into the world.

Not to clear every street, but to clear a path.
Not to be perfect, but to be faithful.
Not to walk alone, but together, with Jesus as our Savior, our companion, and our guide.

Amen!

Questions for Personal Reflection in Response to Today’s Sermon

1. Where did this past week’s “storm” (literal or figurative) most affect my daily life?
2. What emotions surfaced for me during the snow and ice—gratitude, frustration, anxiety, compassion, resentment?
3. When did I notice both kindness and irritation living side by side in me?
4. Which Beatitude do I find most comforting right now? Which one do I find most challenging—or hardest to live into?
5. Where do I most need God’s grace right now? What do I need Christ to nourish or heal in me?
6. How can I walk this path not alone, but together with others and with Christ?