We just marked Catholic Schools Week in this country – an appreciation of those who have taught – and continue to teach – in the Catholic school system. Many of us, I know, can remember when those teachers were nuns. They were extraordinarily generous with their time and talent. And the work they did endures today.

Last spring, the papal nuncio to the United States, Archbishop Pietro Sambi, spoke to a group of Catholic teachers in Washington and talked about how everyone who comes to Rome marvels over the Pieta, carved from marble when Michelangelo was just 22 years old.

The nuncio said: “Michelangelo… is considered one of the greatest artists in the world. I don’t believe it! The greatest artists are the educators — are you — because you try to sculpt the best of yourselves, of who you are and what you know, not in a piece of marble, but in living, breathing human beings, who are the glory of God.”

What a beautiful tribute to teachers.

And, I think, a fitting introduction to today’s gospel, where we hear from the greatest teacher of all, giving his most famous lesson of all.

Over the years, the Sermon on the Mount has been called many things. One scholar called it “The Magna Carta of the Church.” Another called it “The Manifesto of the King.”

But it is really a lesson plan, a syllabus – instruction in how to achieve holiness and happiness. How to be a disciple of Christ.

And it all begins with the reading we just heard: the Beatitudes.

In his book “Jesus of Nazareth,” Pope Benedict wrote that The Beatitudes amount to nothing less than a self-portrait by Christ. In the meek, the merciful, the clean of heart, the persecuted…Jesus is, in fact, describing himself.

And if we are to be his followers, by extension, he is describing his vision for us.

This is what we are all about. Or, at least, should be.

The fact is: in the Beatitudes, we are given more than just suggestions in how to be good people. We are given an abiding lesson in how to love.

And again and again, we are told, it lies not in more…but in less. It’s giving of yourself to another. It involves humility, sacrifice, and even suffering.

And out of that, we are blessed. Out of that, we are happy.

That is radical news. If you don’t think so, you haven’t been by the newsstand lately.

The other day Portfolio magazine reported that one of the driving forces in the American economy is…Britney Spears. By their estimate, she is responsible for about $120 million of the American economy.

That means: if you add up the money that others make because of her — photographers, magazines, tabloids, promoters, security personnel, record companies…and even her ex husband — it’s close to 120 million dollars.

That is what matters to world. Not meekness, or humility or hungering for righteousness. But feeding off the young tragedy that is Britney Spears.

And that is why The Beatitudes are so radical.

Because selflessness is radical.

Hungering and thirsting for righteousness is radical.

Love – true Christian love — is radical.

This gospel is sometimes read at weddings, and for good reason: these words show how love is made manifest. Not romantic love. Not sexual love. That kind of love is fleeting.

But this is about deep, selfless, sacrificial love…that same love Christ has for the world. The same love God has for His creation.

And we couldn’t be learning about it at a better time.

In just three days, we will enter Lent — to spend 40 days in the desert, preparing for Easter.

But on this last Sunday before we begin our Lenten pilgrimage, the church has given us this gospel reading to carry with us on our journey.

In teaching terms, this is our text, and our homework.

What will we learn from it?

How hard will we strive to be among those who are blessed?

What will we do over the next several weeks to be poor in spirit…to be meek…to be merciful?

How we will become better at love?

Jesus showed us with how he lived…and how he died. We are about to share in that mystery as we gather around this altar and remember Him, just as He asked us to. It is his greatest gift to us: the gift of himself.

But he also gave us other gifts, in the words he proclaimed on the top of a mountain, words that have echoed down through history.

They are the lasting lessons of the world’s greatest teacher – and, as the papal nuncio might put it, its greatest artist.

We are not only his students. We are his marble.

Let us pray this Lent to fulfill Christ’s vision for us – to live his beatitudes.

To learn from them…and to make of our lives a true work of art.