Sunday, February 1, 2026
This week, Jesus decided to come greet me and invite me in. Or at least, that’s how it felt. In reality, it was the priest standing outside the church, greeting people as they walked in. He took the time to acknowledge each person, speaking to them as if he already knew them. That small moment stayed with me — because it reminded me of what Jesus does in this week’s Gospel. He sees the crowds first. Then He goes up the mountain and speaks to them.
To really understand this Gospel, context matters. At the time, people were living under Roman occupation. Many were burdened by poverty, heavy taxation, and constant uncertainty. Worth wasn’t private — it was public. People were labeled by their family’s reputation, their religious standing, and even their health. To be poor, sick, or grieving often meant being overlooked or judged. And it is into this reality that Jesus proclaims the Beatitudes — a series of teachings that redefine what it means to be blessed — introducing an entirely new way of living.
Jesus isn’t speaking to the powerful or the comfortable. He’s speaking to people who are tired, overlooked, and longing for God. Reflecting on this made me realize how often history repeats itself. While our circumstances look different today, the undercurrent feels familiar. We are living in a time of uncertainty and fear. Throughout the week, we face challenges that make us question whether God is really present. And if I’m honest, when I first read the Beatitudes, my reaction was resistance. Why would God want us to suffer? Why would blessing be tied to mourning, meekness, or persecution? I didn’t want suffering to be part of the equation.
But sitting with this Gospel longer, the Beatitudes no longer feel like a demand to endure pain for its own sake. They feel more like Jesus speaking as a loving Father — telling His children the truth about life, while also giving them hope. To be human is to encounter suffering. That doesn’t mean God causes it. Sometimes we just want someone to blame when life hurts. Yet God doesn’t stay distant from our brokenness. He sends His Son into a flawed world to meet us in it and to show us a different way forward.
The Beatitudes feel less like a list of impossible ideals and more like a blueprint — a way of shaping our hearts so we can receive what God desires to give us. Jesus does not promise that suffering disappears, but that it opens us to something greater: communion with God, heaven. It made me think of that song, “Heaven Is a Place on Earth.” Not because heaven erases suffering here, but because when we live the Beatitudes, something shifts. We begin to think differently, love differently, and respond to pain in a way that reflects God’s kingdom. Through mercy, humility, and peace, heaven quietly breaks into the ordinary — not someday far away, but even now, in the way we choose to live and love with those around us.
Reflection Questions for the Week
- Which Beatitude feels most difficult for me to accept right now — and what might that reveal about my fears or unmet needs?
- What parts of my life am I still trying to control rather than entrust to God?
- How might suffering be shaping my capacity for compassion, humility, or patience?
Gospel:
When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain,
and after he had sat down, his disciples came to him.
He began to teach them, saying:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the land.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the clean of heart,
for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you
and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me.
Rejoice and be glad,
for your reward will be great in heaven.”
Author: Nora Rosales

Associate Professional Clinical Counselor #20398 (bilingual)
Hi, I’m Nora! I’m a bilingual therapist rooted in faith and the proud daughter of immigrants.
To connect, you can reach me at nrosalespcc@gmail.com!