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The Beatitudes, Part 2


I had previously stated that the Beatitudes (those attitudes we are supposed to be) are the sort of “front door” to the Kingdom of Heaven.  Discipleship, then, starts with spiritual poverty.  In Luke 18:9-14, Jesus gives contrasting images of someone who is poor in spirit and another who may be “rich” in spirit:

“Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.  The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’  But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’  I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other.”

It is this tax collector who is “poor in spirit.”  It does not mean he is sad, lonely, or depressed.  Neither does it mean he is full of self-hatred or suicidal.  Rather, someone like the tax collector has taken a long look in the mirror and, for good reason, doesn’t like what he sees.  It means having a true and honest opinion of ourselves: sinners in desperate need of someone to help us.  It is recognizing that we have offended a holy God who has high standards of behavior, and there is nothing we can do of our own accord to bridge the gap that separates us.  

It makes sense that Jesus would say such a man goes home justified, since the reward for being “poor in spirit” is inheriting the Kingdom of Heaven.  The “rich in spirit” have no need for a savior; the rest of us do.

“Mourning” in the second beatitude is the natural outward reaction of someone who is poor in spirit.  Beating the breast, begging for mercy, weeping, a sincere apology and genuine remorse—those are all outward behaviors which reflect that spiritually, someone is bankrupt.  This is what is meant by “blessed are those who mourn.”  It is having a genuine broken heart over those things we have done which have estranged us from God.  

Every once in a while a famous public figure does something heinous, something to lose face in the eyes of the public.  In an effort to do damage control, the person will make an apology.  Yet we all have become accustomed to half-hearted, insincere “I’m sorry if you were offended...” kinds of apologies.  True mourning is not an attempt to save face in someone else’s watchful eyes; it is genuine regret for things one has done wrong that naturally accompanies spiritual poverty. 

The end result of true mourning is comfort.  More than a reassuring pat on the back and a “there, there,” true comfort comes from true forgiveness of those wrongs.  For a tax collector, or for a sinner, or for anyone who is truly mourning, nothing could be more comforting than to hear Jesus say, “this man went home justified.”  

“Meekness” can be easily confused with nice, or kind.  People should be nice and kind.  Many Christians are nice.  Some professional criminals are nice too, so “meek” is probably something deeper.  “Meek” has to do with “not being overly impressed by a sense of one’s self-importance” (BDAG, 861).  If “poor in spirit” is an honest opinion of ourselves before God, “meek” is an honest opinion of ourselves before others.  You realize that you aren’t better than anyone, and you don’t treat them as if you are.

“Meek” is the exact opposite attitude of the Pharisee in Jesus’ parable.  In fact, the parable is directly addressed to “some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt.”  The Pharisee in the story is very rich in spirit, and instead of mourning, celebrates the fact that he is better than poor saps like the tax collector.  The “meek” on the other hand, treat others with dignity and respect because they know deep down we are really all the same.  Even if I fast twice a week, give a tithe of all I get, or perform other religious duties, that does not make me better than anyone else.  

So you can imagine the surprise of the crowd when Jesus says such people inherit the earth.  Conventional wisdom suggests that the earth might be inherited by those who earn it, who deserve it.  Instead, it will be inherited by those who know they don't deserve it.  

Disciples should hunger and thirst for righteousness.  “Righteousness” can be variously understood: the undoing of social injustice, a right standing before God through Christ, or simply good behavior.  “Righteousness” probably shouldn’t be reduced to any of these, but can be broadly interpreted as “conformity to God’s will.”  True disciples should pursue righteousness in the way one pursues food and water: as if your life depended upon it.  In a way, your life does depend on it.  And when you do pursue righteousness, you will find it.

I assume that someone like the tax collector in Jesus’ story, is someone hungering and thirsting for righteousness.  The only reason someone would beat his breast and beg for mercy is because he knows he is estranged from God and he wants to do whatever is necessary to make it right.  The Pharisee, on the other hand, seems content to live life out of his own self-righteousness.

The Pharisee is also a far cry from “merciful.”  As he prays alongside a measly tax collector, someone who is in obvious misery, he does nothing to help.  Instead, he uses him as a pawn to remind God, “I’m so glad I’m not like this poor loser!”  A more merciful act would have been to kneel down with the guy.   

“Mercy” is an attitude and behavior that joins people in the midst of their misery and does what is necessary to help them emerge to a better state.  It is an act that stems from the previous beatitudes.  Someone who recognizes his own spiritual bankruptcy, mourns for what he has done wrong, hungers to do what is right will naturally have a disposition that prevents him from seeing himself as better than anyone else.  It is this recognition of one’s own misery and God’s undeserved help that allows us to see someone else’s misery and join them, bringing a small sign of relief.  

I think one of the worst things a Christian can do is forget what it was like to be a non-Christian.  When we forget what it was like the moment before we received the undeserved mercy of God, we are tempted to have less pity on someone else who is exactly where we were.  We should never forget that we, too, are sinners, no different than the sinners around us..  

So far, all of the beatitudes describe actions.  Sure, poverty of spirit is an attitude, but one which can be demonstrated in various ways.  Same with mourning, being meek, chasing righteousness and showing mercy.  However, purity in heart truly shows what a man or woman is on the inside.  My seminary advisor used to illustrate this by asking, What do you do when you know no one is looking?  Or, what do you think about when no one can check your thoughts?  What is it that truly motivates you to do right?  Do you do right to get noticed, or for no other reason that it is the right thing to do?  Answering those questions honestly will show what truly dwells in our hearts.  

“Peacemakers” will be called “sons of God.”  It is fitting that we, when we engage in making peace, would be compared to THE Son of God, the ultimate “peacemaker.”  Jesus has made peace between God and men, as Paul tells the Ephesians, “But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ” (Eph. 2.13).

Yet he also makes peace between individuals: “His purpose was to create in himself one new man out of the two, thus making peace” (Eph. 2.15).  Part of being a “son of God”, like “The Son of God” involves making peace in the same way.  When we share the gospel message with those who are, like us, poor in spirit, we show them that God has provided peace to confront the hostility that once existed between God and his creation.  We also get to take part in reconciling people with other people, destroying those walls which were created to divide us from one another.  

Finally, Jesus does not mince words about the fate of one who displays the beatitudes.  It will result in persecution.  Persecution exists to varying degrees.  It may be as severe as being killed, or as subtle as being ridiculed by friends and family.  In Matthew 5.11, Jesus expands the definition to include insults and slander.  So when we strive to do right, the world that hated Christ will turn and hate us also (John 15.18).  Jesus even makes it seem that persecution is a guarantee; if a disciple is not being persecuted to some degree, perhaps that disciple is not living a life of righteousness.  Paul told Timothy, “In fact, everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (2 Tim. 3.12, emphasis added).  

In a sermon where Jesus’ emphasis is, “The world does this but you are to be different,”  the Beatitudes are the first step toward confronting the world.  Most people are not accustomed to others who are poor in spirit, who mourn over their offenses, who put others first, who extend hands of mercy, who have pure motives, and who make peace instead of extending hostility.  The net result of all of this may result in persecution, whether subtle or severe.  Nevertheless, the persecution we experience from the world is a sure sign that the kingdom belongs to us.  

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