Jesus, Are You Cray-Cray? Matthew 5:1-12 Rev. Dr. Rhonda Abbott Blevins June 14, 2026
When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2 And he began to speak and taught them, saying:
3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4 “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
5 “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
6 “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
7 “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
8 “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
9 “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
10 “Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
11 “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. 12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
If you’ve been with us for the past couple of weeks, you know what we’re up to this summer. We’re asking a simple question—deceptively simple, as it turns out: What if we actually saw the world the way Jesus saw it? Not the way our culture sees it , not the way our political tribe sees it, ot the way the loudest voices on the internet see it.
The way Jesus saw it.
We’re calling this series “Jesus Worldview,” inspired by the work of the Jesus Worldview Initiative, whose conviction is that the following of Jesus ought to be the defining priority of the Christian faith. Not defending Jesus, not weaponizing Jesus — following Jesus. Closely. Daily. With our whole lives.
Week one, we talked about the lens. Whose lens are we wearing when we look at the world? I confessed to you that after thirty years in ministry, I’ve had to ask myself that question more than once—and the answer hasn’t always been flattering.
Week two, we discovered that if you had to stand on one foot and summarize everything Jesus taught, you’d land on two words: Love God. Love neighbor.
That’s the center. Everything else, Jesus said, hangs on those two.
This week, we open the greatest sermon ever preached. And I need to warn you in advance: It’s going to get a little cray-cray.
Before we get into the text, let me tell you something about first-century Jewish culture that will change how you hear everything that follows.
In the time of Jesus, a rabbi was not simply a teacher. A rabbi was a way of life. Young men who felt called to study with a particular rabbi would leave their families, leave their work, leave everything—and follow him. Literally. They would walk directly behind their rabbi on the dusty roads of Galilee, staying as close as they possibly could. The goal was not merely to learn what the rabbi knew. The goal was to become what the rabbi was. To absorb not just his teaching but his manner, his compassion, his way of seeing the world.
They followed so closely—pressed in so near—that the dust kicked up by the rabbi’s sandals would settle on them. This was not incidental. It was the whole point. And it became a blessing. One rabbi would say over another’s disciples: “May you be covered in the dust of your rabbi.”
To be covered in the rabbi’s dust meant you were close enough to follow. Close enough to imitate. Close enough, someday, to become like him.
Hold that blessing. We’re going to need it at the end of this sermon.
Because first, we need to meet the rabbi. And when we do, I suspect we’re going to find ourselves asking a question that the crowd on that hillside in Galilee was probably already asking: Jesus—are you cray-cray?
The slang term cray-cray—meaning wildly, spectacularly, almost admirably crazy—emerged from African American vernacular in the early 2000s and went mainstream around 2012.
Linguists describe it as a reduplication of the word crazy—a grammatical pattern found in many languages where repeating a word intensifies its meaning. Reduplication shows up in English more than we realize:
· It’s usually not just “bye,” it’s bye-bye.
· That’s not just a “no,” that’s a no-no!
· The most important people in baby’s life aren’t “ma” and “da, but “mama” and “dada.”
· And crazy—when regular crazy just isn’t enough—becomes cray-cray.
So if crazy means surprising, cray-cray means so surprising it needs to be said twice.
When Jesus sat down on that hillside and began to speak, the people gathered there didn’t need to know the slang. They felt the feeling.
You a the clip from The Chosen earlier in the service—that remarkable moment when, in the imagination of the screenplay writer, Jesus pulls Matthew aside before the sermon begins. Jesus tells him that he’s found a way to open the sermon by giving people directions—not directions about where to go, but: “Where people should look to find me.”
And then after the sermon he closes the loop: “If someone wants to find me, those are the groups they should look for.” Let that reframe everything we’re about to hear.
The Beatitudes are not. A moral checklist. They are not a self-improvement program. They are not “eight steps to becoming a better you.” They are a treasure map. If you want to find Jesus—look there.
So let’s go phrase by phrase. And after each one, I’m going to invite you—in your heads, or out loud if you’re feeling it—to ask the question: Jesus, are you cray-cray?
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
The poor in spirit are those who have run out of their own resources. Spiritually depleted. Ego-empty. Unable to manufacture certainty or confidence from within. These are the people sitting in the back row of church hoping nobody asks them how they’re doing, because the honest answer would take too long and involve too many tears.
The world says:
· Project strength.
· Fake it till you make it.
· Never let them see you sweat.
· Certainly don’t let them see you fall apart.
Jesus calls them blessed.
Jesus—are you cray-cray?
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
The world says:
· Get over it.
· Move on.
· Choose joy.
· Put on a brave face.
Especially in public. Especially on social media. Especially, for the love of all things holy, at church.
Jesus says: Blessed are the ones who let themselves grieve.
Grief is not weakness in the Jesus worldview. Grief is love with nowhere to go. And Jesus doesn’t say: Blessed are those who have stopped mourning. He says: Blessed are those who mourn. Present tense. Right now. In the middle of it.
Jesus—are you cray-cray?
“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”
I need to stop here and rescue the word meek from its reputation, because it has taken a beating over the centuries. Meek does not mean weak.
The Greek word is praus, and it was used to describe a wild horse that had been tamed. Not broken. Tamed. Enormous power under loving control. Meekness is strength submitted to something greater than itself.
In a world that celebrates dominance, aggression, and the loudest voice in any room—in a world where winning means making someone else lose—
Jesus—are you cray-cray?
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”
Notice: not those who have righteousness. Not those who have arrived, achieved, and can now look down from the mountaintop of their own moral excellence. Those who hunger for it. Those who are not satisfied with the world as it is. Those who lie awake at night because something is wrong and they cannot stop caring. Those who read the news and instead of going numb, feel something—and let that feeling move them.
The world calls them:
· Naive
· Idealistic
· Exhausting to be around at dinner parties Jesus calls them: Blessed.
Jesus—are you cray-cray?
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”
We live in a world of scorekeeping. Grudge-holding. A world where cancellation is a sport and forgiveness is often regarded as weakness. Where the measure of your strength is how little you need from others—and how thoroughly you can dismantle your enemies.
Jesus says: Blessed are the ones who let people off the hook. And then, just to make it a little more uncomfortable, he adds: They will receive mercy. As if the mercy we withhold from others has something to do with our own capacity to receive it.
Jesus—are you cray-cray?
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”
Not pure in theology—or we’re all in serious trouble. Not pure in track record. Pure in heart. Undivided. Undeceived. Not performing for an audience. The kind of person who is the same in private as they are in public. The kind of person who doesn’t have a public self and a private self. Just a self. In a world of personal brands, curated images, and carefully managed reputations—
Jesus—are you cray-cray?
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
I want to be careful here, because peacemaker is not the same thing as peacekeeper.
A peacekeeper maintains the status quo, avoids conflict, keeps the lid on, pretends everything is fine.
A peacemaker, on the other hand, enters broken places, faces difficult truths, builds reconciliation, does the costly work of healing. A peacemaker doesn’t pretend conflict isn’t there. A peacemaker transforms it. In a world addicted to outrage, where conflict is content and division is a business model—
Jesus—are you cray-cray?
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
The final beatitude. The one that removes all remaining doubt that Jesus is describing a way of life that will cost something real.
The world says: protect yourself, play it safe, don’t make waves, don’t say anything that might cost you followers.
Jesus says: Blessed are those who get in trouble for doing the right thing.
And if you’re wondering whether Jesus knew what he was talking about, remember: within a few years of this sermon, Jesus himself would be executed for exactly that reason.
Jesus—are you cray-cray?
Answer: yes! By every measure the world offers: Absolutely yes. But remember what Jesus told Matthew before a single word of this sermon was spoken: these are directions.
Not instructions for becoming a better person—though following them will do that. Not eight steps to spiritual success—though they will reorder your life. These are directions to Jesus.
“If someone wants to find me, those are the groups they should look for.”
So here is the question a Jesus worldview asks us to sit with: when you walk into a room—a hospital waiting room, a refugee center, a shelter, a grief group, a school, a neighborhood you’ve been taught to avoid—and you see the poor in spirit, the mourning, the meek, the mercy-givers, the peacemakers . . . do you recognize them? Do you see what Jesus sees?
Because Jesus says: that’s where I am. If you want to find me—look there.
Let me bring you back to where we started. Those young disciples in first-century Galilee didn’t follow their rabbi from a comfortable distance. They didn’t check in occasionally. They didn’t attend when it was convenient. They didn’t keep one foot in the rabbi’s world and one foot in the world they’d always known. They pressed in. They stayed close. They walked directly behind him on the road—breathing the same air, stepping in the same footprints, getting dusty with his dust.
And the blessing spoken over them was this: “May you be covered in the dust of your rabbi.”
Here is our rabbi. He sits on a hillside in Galilee and tells us—with breathtaking specificity and more than a little audacity—exactly who is blessed in his kingdom: the depleted, the grieving, the gentle, the hungry, the merciful, the undivided, the peacemakers, the ones who get in good trouble.
Cray-cray? By the world’s standards, without question.
But this is our rabbi. And the invitation—the only invitation that has ever mattered in this series, and in this faith—is simply this: follow him closely enough to get a little dusty.
In this world, may we be like Jesus. Amen.