"The Right Road" (November 1, 2026)
/The Right Road
Matthew 5:1-12
When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. And he began to speak and taught them, saying:
“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 receive 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 for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth…
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”— Robert Frost
Sometimes in life, we feel overwhelmed by all the brokenness in the world. And sometimes it may feel like one road is the one traveled by many, the popular road. And sometimes, as Robert Frost writes, there is a road less traveled that, in that moment, feels right.
A Road Less Traveled
I bring that up because the Beatitudes feel like a road less traveled these days, do they not? And I wonder if that’s what Jesus was thinking as he stood on that mountain. Really important things happen on mountains in the Bible. And in Matthew, at least, that’s where he chooses to put the Beatitudes. In Luke, they’re on a plain. But in Matthew, Jesus goes up on a mountain and sees people before him who might be wondering the same thing. Or maybe Jesus is wondering whether the popular road in the empire of that day was to tread on people like that: the meek, the reviled, those who are mourning, those who hunger and thirst, either physically or metaphorically. And I wonder if the Beatitudes felt like a road less traveled, but a road nevertheless that Jesus was calling his disciples then, and us now, to follow.
As I mentioned, the Beatitudes tend to show up around election season in many years, and I find that very providential, a reminder that we are all knitted together. Whether we vote one way or the other, I choose to believe that we are all trying to find the right road for us, for our nation, and for our country. And I think today Jesus is reminding us that the right road is laser-focused. It reminds us that there is a special place in God’s heart for those who are mourning, as many of us are on this day, All Saints Day. And in the midst of this grief and uncertainty, we wonder: are we on the right road?
Ashar: On the Right Road
And I think that works perfectly for this passage because the Greek word “blessed” is makarios, which can mean “happy,” “blessed,” or even “congratulations,” if you want a really colloquial term. But its Hebrew cousin is ashar. It’s a word that also means “blessed” to the Hebrew ear, and it’s actually the very first word of the very first psalm in the book of Psalms, which reads, “Happy (ashsar) are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers; but their delight is in the law of the Lord.”
Happy are those. Ashar are those. It literally means “on the right road.” Those who do not follow the advice of the wicked are on the right road. If we fast-forward to the Beatitudes, Jesus says that, even if it doesn’t feel like it, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness are on the right road. It doesn’t always feel like it. But in this crazy world we live in, Jesus says: those who are mourning are on the right road. Those who are meek are on the right road. The peacemakers among us are on the right road.
And so today, as we give thanks for the saints who have departed and as we come up to this Table, I want you all to rest in the fact that you’re on the right road. We are all on the right road, in our own perfectly imperfect way, as we seek to serve our neighbor here. And I take comfort in that on a Sunday when we express much grief and longing for those who have departed from us in the past year.
And so today I’m especially thinking about that line on this All Saints Sunday: blessed are those of you who mourn. If you come today carrying grief of whatever kind, you’re on the right road. You’ve come to the right place, and grace will find you here.
A Funeral on the Holodeck
Now, speaking of mourning, grief, and the Beatitudes, I had to find a way to include Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise in my sermon, honoring that late, great saint among us. So if there are any Trekkies among us, this is for you. If you’re not a Star Trek person — sorry, not sorry.
As it turns out, part of my self-care routine over the past few weeks has been rewatching Star Trek: The Next Generation. I just finished the first season, and there’s a really great episode in that first season, which came out the year I was born, 1988. In this episode, the chief security officer, Tasha Yar, dies suddenly and violently at the hands of a very evil creature — a gross, oil-slick blob that takes pleasure in causing pain. It’s a dark episode, and their friend Tasha dies at the hands of this evil presence.
At the very end of the episode, after Tasha has died, all of her friends, the crew members of the USS Enterprise, gather on the holodeck to hold a funeral service for Tasha. Captain Picard leads the service, and toward the end, most of the crew members head back to their stations — except Lieutenant Commander Data, who you see on the left of the screen right there.
Before I go any further, for those of you who aren’t Trekkies, you need to know that Data is not human. He’s an android, a robot. Throughout the series — one of the show’s central narrative arcs — his deepest longing is to know what it means to be human.
And so Data reaches out to Captain Picard and says, “Captain, I fear that I have misunderstood the purpose of this funeral, of this gathering.” Captain Picard says, “Oh, really? Well, tell me about that. How so?” Data says, “I fear that I’ve misunderstood the point of this funeral, because my thoughts are not on Tasha. Not on my friend who has died. My thoughts are on myself. And I can’t stop thinking about how empty it’s going to be without her presence. Captain, did I miss the point?” Captain Jean-Luc Picard simply turns to Data and says, “No, Data. You didn’t miss the point at all.”
So maybe, like Data, you feel that sense of grief — for a past saint, a beloved family member, whoever it may be. And I feel that too.
Make It So
I find comfort and strength in honoring the memories of those who have gone before us by staying laser-focused on the people Jesus lifts up in the Beatitudes. By looking out for them, and by looking toward the well-being of those among us who may be mourning or grieving, we honor the memories of those who have gone before us. And we are a better community for it.
So if you are grieving today, know you are on the right road. As you come to this table to receive the bread and the juice, know that you are on the right road.
Normally, I would conclude a sermon with “Amen,” but I think “Make it so” has a better ring to it. So together, may all of us say:
Make it so. Amen.