Sunday, November 9, 2014

Coming home




This gospel lesson, often called The Beatitudes, is one of the best known and most beloved passages of the Bible. I have heard it, and read it, and even preached on it many times.  So I was surprised to be pondering it again recently and to find myself thinking about it in a way I never had before. 

Maybe it’s the formal way that the narrator sets the scene, with Jesus going up the mountain and sitting down and then calling his disciples to him and beginning to teach.  Maybe it’s because the teaching itself is quite formal in structure, with its repetitive phrases.  In any case, I had always thought of the Beatitudes as like a kind of official pronouncement.  Jesus is the authoritative teacher for Christians, after all, and so, when you put that together with this formality, I guess it’s only natural to assume that what is being given here is a set of prescriptions—policies, rules.  Biblical scholars will often make the comparison between the depiction of Jesus in this scene and Moses, who went up on a mountain and came down with a set of rules for his community to live by.

The problem with this interpretation is that the Beatitudes aren’t rules.  They don’t exactly tell you what to do.  They aren’t even really promises of what will happen in the future if you do these things.  The Beatitudes are statements about the present, about what God is doing now.  And what is God doing?  God is blessing people.  God is blessing you.

Now when we say that someone is blessed what we usually mean is that they are fortunate:  “So-and-so is blessed with a large, loving family,” we’ll say, or we’ll hear about a big blizzard slamming the Midwest we will say, “Aren’t we blessed to live in California.”  But the blessings that Jesus is talking about here aren’t like that.  For the most part they don’t have anything to do with what life looks like from the outside.  These are blessings that are experienced and received inside, in the heart and in the mind. 

And it is this inner quality of the Beatitudes that recently struck me with a new forcefulness and gave me the idea that they are not an impersonal teaching about objective laws or principles—far from it.  What they really are is Jesus’ personal testimony to his own religious experience.  This is the most detailed exposition we have in Jesus’ own words of his own mind.  Because he experienced all these things for himself.  Jesus was poor in spirit.  Jesus was meek.  He mourned, and he was merciful.  He hungered and thirsted for righteousness, and he made peace.  He purified his heart, and he was reviled and persecuted.

And he was blessed.  He entered the kingdom of God.  He was comforted, and his emptiness was filled.  He received mercy, and heard that he was God’s beloved child.  He looked about him at the earth and saw that it all belonged to him.  He saw God.  And on the basis of these experiences he could sit down with his disciples and say to them with absolute conviction that they could experience these things, too.  They also could know themselves as beloved children of this God whose only desire is to bless them, to fill them with such love for one another and for Himself that no sorrow, no misfortune or calamity, no hatred and oppression by misguided human beings could remove that blessing from their lives.

I like this way of thinking about the Beatitudes because it encourages us to take our own religious experiences seriously.  We have all had them, those moments when we feel the touch of divine grace.  This week I’ve been remembering a crisp fall morning almost thirty years ago.  I was living in an intentional spiritual community in the hills of Western Massachusetts and some of us had gone into the forest that day to cut firewood.  The leaves had fallen from the trees and made a yellow carpet on the ground that crunched under our feet, but apart from that we were working silently, carrying logs out of the woods and piling them by the road for sawing.  And I stopped what I was doing for a moment to stand in contemplation of the delicate branching form of a wild hazel shrub, its lustrous silver bark reflecting the pale morning sun, and in that moment I saw, and I knew.

We have these experiences, and even if it is only once in a lifetime, they stand out of the ordinary run of our days like mountains soaring up out of the plain.  They occur without warning and last for a few seconds, or a minute, or a day, but they change us forever.  They give us only vanishing glimpses, but while we are in them we know that the reality they show us is more real than what we ordinarily take for granted as real life in the real world.  That contrast, between the blessedness we are shown in such moments, and the world of anxiety, meaninglessness, and pretense that we usually inhabit, is like a wound.  It can make us feel like exiles, looking to all outside appearances as if we belong here, but feeling inside that our true home is somewhere else.

This is painful, and we human beings tend to do whatever we can to avoid pain.  We anesthetize ourselves with drugs, and distract ourselves with entertainments.  We go shopping, and fill our closets and garages storage lockers with things we don’t need.  We have built a whole world system around numbing and denying the pain of knowing who we really are and who we really belong to, but it is a system riddled with violence.  It is fueled with poison.  Its pillars are injustice and cruelty, because it is founded on a lie.

But what Jesus says in the Beatitudes is that it is time to come home.  Because the shame of admitting that we are poor in spirit, and have squandered the precious gifts of grace we have received, is so much less than the suffering of keeping up the pretense that we have no need for God.  And the grief that comes from acknowledging that we are lost is so much less than the sorrow of plodding endlessly onward with a phony smile plastered across our teeth.  The cost of opening our eyes to the hypocrisy and injustice of the established order and of longing with burning hearts for equity is far less than the life-sentence of walling ourselves off in ghettos of privilege and imagining that we are free.

The saints of God are those who have heard the summons of Jesus and are determined to follow him home.  Not by seeking to fly away to a better place, but by committing themselves to finding the real world, the world created and blessed by God, right here.  I wish I could tell you that making that commitment would guarantee you more and better religious experiences.  Many of our contemporaries seem to think that this is the whole purpose of the spiritual journey.  And the tradition of Christian spirituality does allow a place for such experiences—it calls them “consolations,” and it consistently teaches not to pursue them. 

God gives them as she chooses, for her own purposes, and her ultimate purpose for us is not emotional gratification, or even individual personal transformation.  It is the perfect blessedness of uniting with all earthly and heavenly creatures in a new creation, the paradise of God.  This ultimate blessedness realizes the potential all the religious experiences of humankind, but it comes about through acts of faith in the truth of those experiences. This is a joint venture of all Godly souls, past, present, and yet to come.  What each one of us lacks in the gifts of grace, God supplies in the others, and by “the others” I mean all the others, most of whom live on the other side of the globe, in the distant past, or far in the future.  And yet each of us present in this place today has gifts, and the success of the whole enterprise comes closer when we are faithful stewards and generous donors of what we have been given. 

That is why it is such an occasion of joy when we baptize new members into this communion of saints, as we are doing at this service for Megan Klarkowski and her little girl, Elsa.  We rejoice because, in following Jesus’ voice, they are setting their feet on the way that leads home.  And we rejoice that they are adding their unique and precious gifts to the treasures that Jesus takes and blesses, and breaks and gives, for our nourishment along the road.

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About Me

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Petaluma, California, United States
I am a priest in the Episcopal Church, and have been (among other things) an organic farmer and gardener, and a Zen monk. I have a lifelong interest in social and spiritual renewal on the basis of contemplative discipline, creative nonviolence, and ecological practice. In recent years my work has focused intensely on the responsibility of pastoral ministry in the humanistic, evangelical, and catholic branch of Christianity known as Anglicanism. I'm married with a daughter, and have three brothers and two parents.