For those whose leaves have withered.

I've working my way through the beatitudes of Jesus as found in Matthew's 5th chapter. I'm up to the 4th beatitude, which is:

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

In previous posts in this series I've mentioned that the first four beatitudes are "beatitudes of lack." A person who fits the description of these first four beatitudes would be feeling keenly his own helplessness (v.3), would be mourning the terrible impact of sin that has touched every life (v.4), would be intensely meek, knowing that he has no spiritual prowess to change a thing about this situation (v.5), and yet would so desire that this situation be changed that it would feel for him like the intense hunger of starvation or the thirst of a man who has been wandering in a desert.

Sometimes I've felt that way. Sort of. Maybe.

Righteousness is the Bible's word for the way the world would be if Adam and Eve hadn't gone tragically astray. It's the word for a kind of life that is entirely and happily alligned with the loving will of God. Sort of like this:

Blessed is the man
who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,
nor stands in the way of sinners,
nor sits in the seat of scoffers;
but his delight is in the law the Lord,
and on his law he meditates day and night.

He is like a tree
planted by streams of water
that yields its fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither.
In all that he does, he prospers. Psalm 1:1-3

Wouldn't it be nice? For me, sometimes my leaf withers. And now comes to mind our old friends Eve and Adam, and how they got cast out of all that blessedness, and life became very very hard, and one of their sons murdered the other, and always they got their food by hard labor, dreaming of a garden paradise, and then finally they had another son, Seth, and to Seth was born Enosh. This would be the third generation, then. And Genesis 4:26 says, "At this time people began to call upon the name of the Lord."

Imagine that. It took three generations of suffering for people to begin to call upon God. It took a while, but suffering (that is, the impact of a severe shortage of righteousness) brought forth a hunger for, you guessed it, righteousness.

Today, in my own world, I have seen how a little word, well-intentioned, could ignite a firestorm of recriminations. I might think about the best way to address the situation, and hope to be a help, but I'm learning that the only true response is to call upon the name of the Lord, asking him to work his will. Calling out, in other words, for righteousness.

Musing about Meekness

"Blessed are the meek," Jesus says, "for they shall inherit the earth." Thinking about this passage yesterday, I was reminded about something James, the brother of Jesus, would later write:

What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you? Is it not this, that your passions are at war within you? You desire and do not have, so you murder. You covet and cannot obtain, so you fight and quarrel. You do not have, because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions. James 4:1-3

Quarreling is of course a product of unmeekness. Each one wants what he or she wants, and that they get it is the overriding concern. But our wants conflict, so the wants of one are set against the wants of the other. It gets extremely complicated and entangling, and frustration--frustrated desires--is the result. In our frustration we bring these desires to God--God, I want it, I want it bad, I've been wanting it for so long, please satisfy my desire!--we ask wrongly. Our wanting becomes a burden, and we want to be rid of wanting, and simply have what we desire, but of course this can never be. Sometimes I think what we really desire is the feeling of not wanting any more, but simply of having. Always having. Like someone who has come into a fortune suddenly, and can always have whatever he wants. So we play the lottery, or we cheat on our taxes, or we go into massive debt, or we quarrel in frustration within our own family, which is made up of other frustrated wanters. Oh who shall save me from this body of death?

The zen answer would be to quit wanting, I suppose, but good luck with that. The Bible answer is, rejoice in the Lord. Look at the last chapter of Philippians, where Paul mentions the names of two who had apparently been quarreling (he must have heard about it from Epaphroditus). He urges them to "agree in the Lord." I'm not exactly sure what that means--maybe they are to focus on their having the Lord in common, though they may disagree about some lesser thing. Anyway, right away Paul says--is it his antidote to quarreling?--"Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand."

Odd that he says "reasonableness" here, at least I've always thought it odd. Not a typical Pauline word perhaps. Except that it is the antithesis of quarreling. The ESV Study Bible footnote says of this word: "Reasonableness is crucial for maintaining community; it is the disposition that seeks what is best for everyone and not just for oneself."

Which reminds me of something Paul said earlier in this same letter:

So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.

Meekness. You begin to see that our oneness must be Christ-centered. We rejoice in the Lord because Christ has made such rejoicing possible, opening the way. But all our quarreling is self-centered, not Christ-centered.

Years ago, I was in a quarreling church. It was awful. People seemed to have nothing in common except which side they were on in the great ongoing quarrel. It was devestating, sinful, God-dishonoring, Christ-spurning, and a dreadful testimony to the world.

Which brings me back to the meek. Jesus says they're the ones who are going to inherit everything. Yes, the whole world! It's all going to be theirs! James says we quarrel because we desire what we not not have, and by quarreling we hope to get what we desire, but here is James' brother, Jesus, saying by implication, guess what, it doesn't work that way. I'm going to upend your selfish expectations and give everything to the meek, who never fought for anything, and who in this world's system were therefore always the losers in the great game of getting.

Now back to Paul: so why don't you two who have been quarreling just rejoice in the Lord together. What could be more reasonable than that! And instead of pleading with God for that which you've been quarreling for,

"do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

See if you're anxious about nothing, it's going to change the way you pray. Instead of praying in the wrong spirit, out of our frustrated desire, we're praying out of our oneness in Christ, our rejoicing, and I would suggest certain kinds of long-time wants are just going to pale in that atmosphere, and we'll be praying with thanksgiving for what we've been given instead of out of frustrated desires. Amazing! And then the peace of God guards our hearts and minds!

[Cross-posted at Mount Jesus]

"Christ in you" and the Beatitudes

John's latest post at Mount Jesus is really good. Concerning the "blessed are" statements of Jesus known as the beatitudes, John puts the focus squarely on union with Christ. The post is called, "With Man It Is Impossible."

That's the place to start, isn't it, when thinking about these beatitudes. It will keep you from thinking, Okay, I want to inherit the earth, so I've got to be meek. Let's see, now how do I do that? Maybe there's a book I could read? A seminar I can attend? The meekness driven life!

With man it is impossible! Yes, which means, of course, that with me it is impossible. But like John I've got this rich young ruler attitude (makes no difference that I'm neither rich, nor young, nor a ruler!). I keep asking, What must I do to . . . get the blessing?

Of course there are examples of all these "beatitudinal" conditions Jesus speaks of throughout the Scriptures. Poverty of spirit, mourning, meekness, hunger for righteousness, mercy, etc. We see these in all the OT "types of Christ," like Abraham, Joseph, David, etc. Then we see them in fullness in Jesus himself. It's a good exercise to go through the Gospels and write down every example you can find. When you do that, you begin to see it is Jesus himself who fulfills these conditions and receives these blessings first!

Me, I am by no means meek. And I have to admit, those who mourn make me want to run away and hide. I seldom really "weep with those who weep." Mercy? Real mercy draws you into the pain and need of others and requires sacrifice. That's not my natural inclination, sorry.

I think John is right. With man all this is impossible. And I think I begin to understand, maybe for the first time, why Paul made it his goal to "share" the suffering of Christ [Phil 3:7-10] To share in Christ's suffering, maybe, is to share his heart for those who suffer. To enter into the brokenness of the other in order to share its burden. It is to accept the burden of the other, on behalf of the other, and for the higher purpose of God's ultimate plan and mission. That's how and why Christ suffered. Christ, the one who said, "follow me."

Take mercy, for example. True mercy always involves us in some form of personal sacrifice, the setting aside of our own preferences and aversions in order to truly care for another. When you take a good long look at Jesus, you will behold a life that perfectly illustrates this point. Maybe to share in the suffering of Christ, then, is to to share his heart for the suffering of others and to respond in a way that "pays the price." Paul had not yet achieved such a sharing. No, not even Paul! But his dream was to continue to grow toward Christ's kind of extreme mercy, his meekness in the face of antagonism, his broken-heartedness over sin and its ravages, all of which involved a suffering in some way.

Why? Paul says it's so that he, Paul, might achieve the resurrection from the dead (v.11). But as elsewhere he makes abundantly clear, it is Christ living in him (and in you and me) which gives any and all hope of such a resurrection ("Christ in you, the hope of glory"). Or any hope, we might also say--getting back to the beatitudes--of inheriting the earth!

To sum up: we can't "do" the beatitudes. With man it is impossible, but all things are possible with God, and Christlike things are possible when Christ lives in you. Therefore, Christ in you is your hope of every blessing mentioned in the beatitudes.

Processing the Kingdom: Blessed are Those Who Mourn, part 2

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

I want to understand why Jesus should have said, in his first recorded discipleship training session with the twelve, that those who mourn are blessed.

I'm speculating, just for the sake of mulling things over, that this beatitude goes beyond a promise of comfort to those who mourn, but honors the mournful with blessing because the heart of the mourner is in some sense even desirable.

Why do I say this? Well, simply because I take that to be the sense of the other beatitudes that surround it. There is a quality about being “poor in spirit” that God honors. Meekness is quite possibly like this also, and certainly hunger and thirst for righteousness, peacemaking, and all the others are as well. Why should this one beatitude be otherwise?

Okay, that's a thought, as they say. But does this mean that God prefers us to go around sorrowful and burdened all the time? What could possibly be so valuable about mournfulness?

It would be good to remember at this point a simple rule of thumb: all the promises of God are delivered to us through Christ. Got that? Let's just set it off in a blockquote for good measure:

All the promises of God are delivered to us through Christ.

But let's make that a tad more specific:

All the promises of God were purchased for us by Christ at the cross.

So whenever you see a promise in the Scriptures, think to yourself, that promise was purchased for me by Christ with is very lifeblood.

OK: so here is Christ speaking to his disciples, and kind of enumerating some of the major blessings of the kingdom—the kingdom he's been proclaiming from the very start of his ministry, saying it was near at hand—and among those blessings are comfort for those who mourn. But remember, the disciples don't understand (yet) what we understand—that Christ himself will deliver on that promise of comfort by taking the wrath of God at sin upon himself.

To put it another way, then:

The cross comforts those who mourn.

But I started this post by saying that there was something about mourning, even as there is something about, for example, hunger and thirst for righteousness, that God will honor. In other words, mourning may reveal a quality of heart that is receptive to the blessings of the kingdom.

Maybe so, but why? I would say because it helps to position us to carry our our calling as ambassadors of Christ in a broken world. I suggest that God has a kingdom purpose in aligning his children with the broken-hearted. Remember, the beatitudes are a part of a training-session for Christ-followers. The kingdom comes to such as these: the poor in spirit, the broken-hearted, the meek, the hungry for righteousness, the peacemakers, etc., and then, as kingdom representatives, they offer the kingdom to others. When we, not standing aloof but entering into the brokenness of the world as broken ones ourselves, but holding out the word of life, the light of the Gospel, we are then true to our calling as disciples.

Processing the Kingdom: Blessed are those who mourn?

What do we do with this completely counter-intuitive beatitude?

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."

I've been mulling this one over all week, and I'm just wondering, is this simply an assurance of ultimate comfort for those who mourn, or is it a statement about--an assessment of--the life of the mourner?

Do you understand what I mean? I'm thinking these blessed are statements are not exactly promises, are they? They are something more like divine assessments.

When Mary's sister Elizabeth said to her, "Blessed are you among women," it was this kind of assessment. Prior to that, when the angel of the Lord said to her, "Greetings, oh favored one, the Lord is with you," it was another way of saying the same thing. "Blessed are you."

Similarly, in Psalm 1, which says the man who walks not in the way of the wicked is blessed, this is not a statement about rewards in the future for good behavior now. It doesn't say, "He shall be like a tree planted by streams of water," but he is like that tree.

So you see the difference here? In the case of "blessed are those who mourn," Jesus may not simply be saying someday their mourning will be replaced by joy, or that there will be blessed comfort forever in the great by-and-by, but he's saying that those who mourn--those who are able to mourn--are blessed. Just like Mary was blessed by carrying the savior in her womb, and yet Simeon could say to her, "and a sword shall pierce your heart also." Blessed, yes, but your heart shall break. Broken-hearted, yes, but blessed nevertheless.

You see how none of this has anything to do with the great by-and-by? "Blessed" is more than a promise. It's a divine assessment of the the poor in spirit, the broken-hearted, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, etc.

"They shall be comforted." That is promise. "Blessed are." That is an assessment.

Now if I am right about this, then I have to ask, what's so blessed about mourning? Secondly, everyone mourns, sooner or later. Does that mean everyone is "blessed" in the eyes of God?

I'll take up these questions in the next "Processing the Kingdom" post.

Processing the Kingdom 2: Poor in Spirit

Jesus had just finished healing healing "every disease and affliction" among a large crowd of people who had apparently come to him with just that hope in mind. And when he had a moment to sit down with his new-fledged disciples, I imagine it was with great joy--and perhaps a nod toward some who had just been healed--that he said, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

I am reminded of the old joke about the man who has fallen over a cliff and is clinging to a weak little bush on the side of the cliff. He shouts out, "Is there anyone up there who can help me?" God answers, "I am here, my son. All you have to do is trust me and let go. I promise I'll catch you." The man thinks about it for a moments and shouts, "Is there anyone ELSE up there who can help me?"

Clearly, that fellow wasn't poor in spirit. The ESV Study Bible footnote concerning the word "blessed" here refers to "more than a temporary or circumstantial feeling of happiness, this is a state of well-being in relationship to God that belongs to those who respond to Jesus' ministry. The poor in spirit are those who recognize they are in need of God's help."

I like that. It's all about dependence. But the question arises, what about after the healing. I once was blind, but by golly now I see! There is a way we have of turning the kingdom blessings of Jesus into a foundation for pride and self-reliance! Strange, how we can turn even the gifts of God into idols.

That's one of the reasons it's helpful to think of ourselves as "being saved" (continuous) rather than "saved" (one and done); it reinforces in our mind our need, our helplessness, as a continuing reality. As the old song says:

Nothing in my hand I bring,
simply to the cross I cling;
naked, come to thee for dress;
helpless look to thee for grace;
foul, I to the fountain fly;
wash me, Savior, or I die.

While I draw this fleeting breath,
when mine eyelids close in death,
when I soar through tracts unknown
see thee on thy judgment throne,
Rock of ages, cleft for me,
let me hide myself in thee.

But the great thing is, there is much room for joy in all this poverty of spirit, this helplessness and need. The joy is in the certainty of the love and power of the one who is saving us. Even as we are being saved from the peril, let the celebration of our salvation begin! Amazing grace!

Bonhoeffer on the Beatitudes

I've been studying discipleship lately. What it means, and how we are meant to do it (teach it, learn it, live it). As a part of this study I've gone back to the 20th century classic, Dietrich Bonhoeffer's The Cost of Discipleship. More on this wonderful book in another post.

Meanwhile, I've been journaling through the Beatitudes for some time. So I was really interested to see this post at Kingdom Living [HT: Milton Stanley], which quotes Bonhoeffer on the the Beatitudes. Good stuff.

Thoughts On Meekness

So I recently started journaling through the "sermon on the mount." I have a nice little Moleskine notebook, and a mechanical pencil with a very useful eraser, and I sit down each morning to think about a passage, and to scribble those thoughts down. I don't say this is all deep and insightful thinking, but I do think the process is very helpful. It's a way, I suppose, of doing this:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

Anyway, I was thinking about meekness this morning, because of course Jesus said the meek are blessed, because they will inherit the earth.

Have you ever thought about that? How utterly nonsensical it sounds! I used to work under a fellow who was aggressively disdainful of Christianity, and his critique ultimately rested right here. He'd say something like this: "Jesus said the meek shall inherit the earth. What could be more ridiculous? The meek will inherit nothing but a boot in the face. This world is for the strong, not the meek."

Well, you'd have to admit, that does seem a little more in accord with reality, does it not? Anyway, here's my own little definition: Meekness is a quiet humility, a willingness to be second, or tenth, or last -- even to be completely overlooked. It is the opposite of self-assertiveness. A meek person may even be willing to endure injustice rather than by his own behavior discredit Jesus and his Gospel of grace or resist the will of God. For example:

He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.

Jesus did not choose to defend himself before Pilate. By the same token, he did resist the devil when he was tempted three times in the desert at the start of his ministry. It was in subservience to the will of God, which he knew to be better than any temptation the devil might offer, that he resisted. So you see, meekness isn't always going along. Meekness is really a matter of whom one serves. God, or self.

Meekness was personified by, of all people, a Roman centurion:

"Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof, but only say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. And I say to one, 'Go,' and he goes, and to another, 'Come,' and he comes, and to my servant, 'Do this,' and he does it."

You see, ultimately, meekness indicates subservience, and the real question (as I just said) is subservience to whom? The centurion, in understanding the authority of Jesus over sickness, demonstrated his faith in Jesus, of course, but that faith manifested itself in meekness.

Paul, who seems anything but a meek man, was always willing to be last, and his service to the Gospel of Christ was always self-sacrificing. At times certain people wanted to worship him as a god, and that horrified him. He would not allow it. And to the very un-meek Corinthians he described the nature of apostleship:

For I think that God has exhibited us apostles as last of all, like men sentenced to death, because we have become a spectacle to the world, to angels, and to men. We are fools for Christ's sake, but you are wise in Christ. We are weak, but you are strong. You are held in honor, but we in disrepute. To the present hour we hunger and thirst, we are poorly dressed and buffeted and homeless, and we labor, working with our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we entreat. We have become, and are still, like the scum of the world, the refuse of all things.

Christian meekness is always associated with service and with endurance. Put aside are self-esteem, self-defense, boasting, jostling for leadership, endless tales of personal triumphs, and the monopolizing of conversation in order to control perception.

Finally, it is in endurance that the diamond at the core of meekness shows itself. Endurance, that is, in the cause of Christ. Even as Jesus said the first shall be last and the last first, the meek exemplify this reality by their willingness to be last, not only once or twice, but as a matter of course. Last, that is, in the world's assessment, last in power, last in status, last in praise, if in so doing they may win one soul for the kingdom. Paul said, "we endure anything rather than put an obstacle in the way of the gospel of Christ."

"...these sinners, these followers of Jesus..."

I am nearly done reading James Montgomery Boice's Christ's Call to Discipleship. This book has been very helpful to me. I’m kind of on a mission to learn as much as I can about the meaning of "discipleship," and this book will take it's place among the essentials on my reading list.

In the meantime, I've recently begun journaling through the "sermon on the mount" [Matt. 5-7]. I’ve been meditating on the beatitudes, and it so happens that Boice spends some time with these verses, as they are in essence a portrait of Christlikeness.

With regard to the first beatitude ("Blessed are the poor in spirit") Boice turns to A. W. Tozer for these words:

The blessed ones who possess the kingdom are they who have repudiated every external thing and have uprooted from their hearts all sense of possessing.... They have reached an inward state paralleling the outward circumstances of the common beggar on the streets of Jerusalem; that is what the word "poor" as Christ used it actually means. These blessed poor are no longer slaves to the tyranny of things. They have broken the yoke of the oppressor; and this they have done not by fighting but by surrendering. Though free from all sense of possessing, they yet possess all things.

Regarding the sixth beatitude ("blessed are those who mourn"), Boice turns to Dietrich Bonhoeffer:

These men without possessions or power, these strangers on the earth, these sinners, these followers of Jesus, have in their life with him renounced their own dignity, for they are merciful.... They take upon themselves the distress and humiliation and sin of others. They have an irresistible love for the down-trodden, the sick, the wretched, the wronged, the outcast and all who are tortured with anxiety.... If any man falls into disgrace, the merciful will sacrifice their own honor to shield him, and take his name upon themselves. They will be found consorting with publicans and sinners, careless of the shame they will incur thereby.