Having been in the gospel of Mark since Pentecost, we now turn to the gospel of Matthew in our daily liturgy readings beginning in chapter five with Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount that starts with the great Beatitudes. The Beatitudes are of such immense significance that entire books could be written about them. They very much contain Jesus’ summary of what a Christian life ought proclaim.
At the very top is a spirit of poverty. I spoke Friday of the theme of poverty running through the gospels. A spirit of poverty, however, is something we choose. Although actual poverty may indeed be chosen, most of the poor have that thrust upon them by forces outside their control and, we must admit, forces that are usually highly unjust and of totally human origins (Luke’s Beatitudes bless the actually poor). A spirit of poverty is also closely connected with the second and third Beatitudes, mourning and meekness.
For that spirit begins in meekness and mourning. Because a spirit of poverty recognizes that we are powerless. And that means that we have no control over things that happen or other people. It means recognizing that every time we attempt to exert power over anything or anyone in any way, we are in an illusion of the self, or the flesh if you want to use Jesus’ and the Apostle Paul’s term. As Jesus said in John 6:63, “The flesh is useless; the Spirit alone gives life.” The spirit of poverty means we are aware that we have no power over anything, we only sometimes think we do. It is to embrace meekness, smallness, accepting everything because doing anything else is an exercise in futility that always leads to pride, anger and resentment. In other words, everything opposed to the Spirit. It is to mourn, the only acceptable response to sin in the world. Every other response is based in fear, pride and hubris. Finally that spirit of poverty recognizes that nothing in this world can really nourish us for we do not live by bread alone. It seeks to believe that God alone will provide and to become fully satisfied with that provision alone, seeking nothing else. It is all a conscious, aware choice that we continually seek through prayer and God’s grace.
All of this leads to a longing for truth and righteousness in ourselves. That longing is not expressed in anger or frustration with the sin of the world, for anger and frustration do not reflect a complete trust in God (that is why we mourn the state of the world). It can only bring about mercy within us, mercy that forgives everything, that cares for everyone and never rejects the sinner or the fallen (“Forgive them for they know not what they do”). “Go and learn the meaning of the words: I desire mercy, not sacrifice,” said the Lord. Mercy that is the only response to pain and suffering. Mercy is how love expresses itself.
Finally, it makes us pure in heart, freed from selfish desires and the will to power. It focuses solely on God, the giver of all that is good. Only the pure heart can love as Jesus loved us. It brings out in us the very nature of Jesus, which is peace. “Peace I leave with you; my own peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives.” And in receiving it for ourselves, we are able to pass it on to others as peacemakers. We come to gladly suffer anything for the sake of God’s Kingdom, not taking it on ourselves, but gladly accepting those sufferings we are given in life, not because we know why or where they come from, but because that is what Jesus did. “Not my will, but your will be done,” he prayed to the Father in Gethsemane. It is not to understand but simply to believe that God will provide.
If we can embrace the Beatitudes and all they mean, then the Kingdom of heaven will be ours, always remembering what Jesus told us, “No one can come to me unless the Father draw them.” Let us pray to allow ourselves to be drawn by the Father to Jesus, out of darkness into his own wonderful light where we will forever rejoice and be glad.