Reverend Marco Ste-Marie

Blessed Are Those Who Still Ache for What Is Right
Matthew 5:6

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”

There is something wonderfully physical about the way Jesus speaks here.

He does not say,

“Blessed are those who have an interest in righteousness.”

He does not say,

“Blessed are those who agree that justice is important.”

For many of those who first heard Jesus, these were not simply metaphors. Hunger and thirst could mean genuine vulnerability. Food was not always guaranteed. Water was precious.

To hunger or thirst was to feel in your body that something necessary for life was missing.

And perhaps that is where Jesus begins with us.

• What feels missing?
• What do we ache for?
• What do we hunger for?

The Greek word Matthew uses for righteousness, dikaiosynē, is richer than our English word sometimes suggests.

When we hear “righteousness,” we might think about being a good person, following the rules, having the correct beliefs, or behaving properly.

But biblical righteousness reaches much further.

• It speaks about integrity within ourselves.
• It speaks about our relationship with God.
• It speaks about how we live with our neighbours.

And it speaks about justice—about whether people are treated fairly, whether vulnerable people are protected, whether dignity is honoured, and whether our communities reflect something of God’s compassion.

Perhaps we could hear Jesus saying:

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for God’s righteousness and justice—for restored relationships, restored lives, and a world brought more fully into alignment with divine love.”

And suddenly the Beatitude becomes very personal.

Because Jesus does not only invite us to look outward at everything that needs changing.

He also invites us to notice what is happening within us.

What are we hungry for? All of us hunger for something.

• We hunger for security.
• We hunger for belonging.
• We hunger for affection.
• We hunger to be understood.
• Sometimes we hunger for recognition.
• Sometimes for certainty.
• Sometimes for control.
• Sometimes simply for life to remain familiar.

None of this makes us bad people. It makes us human.

But Jesus invites us to pay attention to those hungers, because what we hunger for eventually shapes how we live.

• If my deepest hunger is to be right, I may stop listening.
• If my deepest hunger is to avoid discomfort, I may turn away from difficult truths.
• If my deepest hunger is for control, I may struggle to make room for other voices.
• If my deepest hunger is for approval, I may find it difficult to say what needs to be said.

And if my deepest hunger is for God’s righteousness—for justice, mercy, truth, and right relationship—then slowly, sometimes almost imperceptibly, my life begins to move in that direction.

Perhaps this is why Jesus uses hunger rather than achievement.

He does not say:

“Blessed are those who have righteousness completely figured out.”

Thank goodness.

He says:

“Blessed are those who hunger for it.”

Those who want to grow.

Those who remain open.

Those who can still ask themselves:

Could I listen differently?

Could I respond differently?

Is there something here that I have not yet seen?

Could another person’s experience teach me something?

Is there a relationship where I need greater honesty?

Is there a place where I need a healthier boundary?

Is there some assumption I have carried for years that deserves another look?

That kind of questioning is not weakness.

It can be a sign that our hearts are alive.

Because holy dissatisfaction is not necessarily faithlessness.

Sometimes it is faith.

Sometimes the discomfort we experience when we encounter suffering or injustice is evidence that we have not become numb.

• There is something holy about refusing to become completely comfortable with what harms people.
• There is something holy about continuing to believe that dignity matters.
• There is something holy about wanting relationships to become more truthful, communities more compassionate, institutions more just, and creation more carefully tended.

JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, one of the early Christian teachers, understood Jesus to mean that we should desire righteousness with the intensity that hungry people desire food.

JOHN WESLEY reminded the church that holiness could never be reduced to private purity. Holiness was expressed through love of God and neighbour, through mercy, generosity, justice, and care.

In other words, righteousness is relational.

So perhaps instead of asking only, “Am I doing the right thing?”

Jesus invites us to ask deeper questions.

• Are people being treated with dignity?
• Am I really listening?
• Are there voices I tend to hear more readily than others?
• Am I making space for experiences different from my own?
• When someone disagrees with me, am I becoming curious or defensive?
• When I have power, how am I using it?
• When I have been hurt, am I seeking healing or simply victory?
• When I speak of peace, do I mean genuine reconciliation—or simply the absence of disagreement?

THOSE ARE NOT QUESTIONS OF CONDEMNATION. THEY ARE QUESTIONS OF GROWTH. AND JESUS’ VISION OF RIGHTEOUSNESS ALWAYS MAKES ROOM FOR GROWTH.

Because none of us sees everything.

• None of us understands everything.
• None of us gets every relationship right.
• We are all being formed.
• We are all learning.
• We are all discovering places within ourselves where God’s grace still has work to do.

And perhaps this is where compassion enters the Beatitude.

Jesus looks at people who are hungry.

He looks at people who are thirsty.

He looks at human need and does not shame it.

He blesses it.

He says, “Blessed are those who hunger.”

And that hunger may lead us toward very practical things.

Listening to someone whose experience is different from ours.

• Learning more about Indigenous justice and our treaty relationships.
• Paying attention to food and housing insecurity.
• Standing alongside people experiencing racism or exclusion.
• Welcoming refugees and newcomers.
• Caring for the land and water entrusted to us.
• Speaking honestly about institutional failures.
• Accepting correction without believing that correction diminishes our worth.
• Setting boundaries when relationships become unhealthy.
• Protecting those who are vulnerable.

And sometimes simply having enough humility to say: “I hadn’t thought about it that way before.”

That sentence can be an extraordinarily holy sentence.

Because righteousness is not about arriving at moral perfection. It is about remaining available to transformation.

AND THEN COMES THE PROMISE:

“They will be filled.”

Notice that Jesus does not say:

“They will fill themselves.”

The promise rests with God.

That means we can care deeply without believing everything depends upon us.

We can work for justice without imagining that we must repair the entire world.

We can speak truth without controlling how others receive it.

We can try to reconcile without forcing reconciliation.

We can establish boundaries without abandoning compassion.

We can make mistakes, learn, begin again, and keep growing.

Justice is not complete. But justice is not impossible.

• Sometimes someone is protected.
• Sometimes reconciliation occurs.
• Sometimes a harmful practice changes.
• Sometimes a community becomes more inclusive.
• Sometimes people who were not heard finally find their voice welcomed.
• Sometimes we discover that we ourselves needed to change.

Those moments may seem small. But perhaps they are tastes of the kingdom. Little signs that God has not abandoned the world.

And so Jesus offers us neither naïve optimism nor hopeless resignation.

He offers us a way of living.

Pay attention to what you hunger for.

Stay open.

Remain teachable.

Listen deeply.

Notice who is being overlooked.

Be willing to examine your own heart as readily as you examine the world.

And when you discover something that needs changing, do not begin with shame.

Begin with grace.

Because the invitation of Jesus is not:

“Become perfect.”

The invitation is:

“Become hungry for what gives life.”

• Hungry for justice.
• Hungry for integrity.
• Hungry for mercy.
• Hungry for relationships where people can flourish.
• Hungry for communities where dignity matters.
• Hungry for a world increasingly aligned with divine love.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.”

• Blessed are those who still ache for what is right.
• Blessed are those willing to discover that sometimes the change they long to see around them may also begin somewhere within them.
• Blessed are those whose compassion has not grown numb.
• Blessed are those willing to listen, learn, change, repair, and begin again.

Because that longing is not wasted.

It reflects something of the heart of God.

And in ways we may glimpse today, and in ways we cannot yet imagine, Jesus promises:

They will be filled.

Amen.