“Beats and Beatitudes”

4.  An Inheritance for All of Us

Psalm 24

First Presbyterian Church of Jamestown , New York

The Reverend Thomas A. Sweet

July 13, 2008

 

Text:  “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”

  -Matthew 5:5

 

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As we read through the Beatitudes of Jesus, it soon becomes obvious that the blessings announced in them are not to be found in the conditions and attributes per se that the beatitudes describe, but in the gifts that come as a consequence of them.  Now I realize that is about as obtuse an opening sentence as a sermon can have, so here is what I mean:  

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”  We said last week that being poor in spirit means being available moment by moment to respond to the call of God’s Spirit in and on our lives even when that summons may ask us to defy long held traditions and our own and other peoples’ expectations.  Being poor in spirit requires a willingness in us to venture into places and circumstances we never imagined going, but going anyway if God’s Spirit asks it of us.  Being poor in spirit means trusting the ways of God to bring renewal to the world more than falling prey to the seeming inevitability of the present practice and arrangement of things.  My point is that the blessing is not that we are poor in spirit for to be so can be laborious and lonely.  The blessing is that those who live in such a manner find themselves immersed in the work and wonder of the kingdom of heaven (which is Matthew’s name for the kingdom of God ).  

Or, take as another example, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”  The blessing does not come in the mourning exactly.  Rather, blessing comes to those who are willing to enter deeply into the pain and pathos of loss because they then will find themselves somehow comforted.  Walter Brueggemann, the eminent Old Testament theologian, contends that it is only grief that permits newness.  So perhaps the comfort that comes is the experience that after a dark night in our lives, there is given to us again a dawn that is different, but no less beautiful, than the ones before the loss.  In any case, it is the comfort made possible by authentic mourning that blesses us.  

“Blessed are the peacemakers,” Jesus said, “for they will be called children of God.”  Here, the blessing is not to be found so much in doing the work of peacemaking for such activity opens us often to the taunt and ridicule of those who prefer the vainglories of might and militarism, of those who call peacemakers naïve, impractical, unrealistic, dreamy, and dangerous.  Peacemakers hardly ever are popular.  The blessing comes in our deep down knowing that to be a maker of peace is to be a chip off the old Divine Block.  

And then there is the beatitude we are going to consider a bit today:  “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”  Of all the beatitudes, this one might be the hardest for the most people to swallow.  Not many people revel in being called meek.  The sound of the word itself seems to suggest that meekness is weakness.  The satiricist J. Upton Dickson once wrote a book about meekness entitled Cower Power.  He also said he wanted to found a group of submissive people that he would call DOORMATS, an acronym standing for “Dependent Organization of Really Meek and Timid Souls” – if no one objected.  Their motto was to be: “The meek will inherit the earth – if that is okay with everybody.”  Their group symbol would be a yellow traffic light.”  

But people who confuse meekness with weakness are grossly mistaken.   Would you like a definition of meekness, or, better yet, a picture?  Jesus said of himself, “Come unto me, all who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am meek and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29).  Surely no one thinks of Jesus as weak, he whose life and ministry birthed a movement still venerable, vital, and viable two thousand years later.  

Compare that to our own country, two hundred thirty-two years old by my count, that is these days not out, but surely in many ways down.  Stephen Edington, a Unitarian Universalist minister and the author of a book entitled The Beat Face of God, writes of having dinner with a French Canadian friend in the months following the 9/11 attacks.  Here is what Edington writes about that conversation:  

“English is not Jacque’s original language.  But since his English is far better than my French, our conversation was in English.  Jacques reached for words he hoped would adequately represent his feelings as he expressed to me the shock and horror he felt as the terrorist attacks took place.  He reached for words he hoped would convey his deep remorse over the Americans who perished on that horrific day.  It seemed he needed to say these things to an American, and I was providing him the opportunity to do so.  Then he struggled even harder, to the point of stretching out his hands into the air as if her were trying to pull the right words from somewhere beyond him:  ‘But…Steve…do you know…do you see…you (meaning the United States) are so rich…you are so powerful…?’  That was as much as he could do…What he was trying to say to me had to do with the image our country projects, in large measure, to the world.  We do look like a nation that has gained much of the world while losing much of its soul.”  

That may be a hard word for us to hear, but our refusal to heed the cacophony of voices singing that same somber song could some day spell the end of the American experiment.  “The earth is the Lord’s,” chants the psalmist, “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof; the world, and all who live in it…”  

David Amram was a contemporary of Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Lawrence Ferlinghetti and the other instigating members of the beat culture of the late 1940s and 50s.  He wrote of the “Beats” that “We were true believers in the sanctity of life and the miracle of being here, knowing that there (is) a Greater Power somewhere.  We also knew that no matter how crazy things got it was of the utmost importance to remember to honor each and every person on earth…None of us felt that the spiritual life was anything other than a natural reflection of how to look at things as they really (are), try to understand why we are here, and to do what we could and should to honor that Higher Power.”  

Honoring that “Higher Power” whom we know as the God of Jesus stands as a pretty fair description, I think, of what it means to be “meek.”   And, as Amram and the Beats remind us, we honor that Higher Power by “honoring each and every person on earth” and, of course, the earth itself.  Our nation is served best when we formulate our policies and take our actions with that principle in mind.  The “national interest” is too small a rationale on which to devise our political and strategic decisions.  And our own relationships with other people only really can thrive in an atmosphere of mutuality.  We might have the power to lord it over other nations or individuals, but we do not have the authority.  “The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof; the world and all who live in it.”  The earth is an inheritance for all of us that comes to us through meekness without which increasing calamity and chaos are certain.  

Heather McHugh, one of America ’s finest poets, has a poem entitled “A Physics” with which I want now to regale you:  

                                                                 A Physics  

                                                When you get down to it, Earth

                                                has our own great ranges

                                                of feeling – Rocky, Smoky, Blue –

                                                and a heart that can melt stones.

 

                                                The still pools fill with sky.

                                                as if aloof, and we have eyes

                                                for all of this – and more, for Earth’s

                                                reminding moon.  We too are ruled

 

                                                by such attractions – spun and swaddled,

                                                rocked and lent a light.  We run

                                                our clocks on wheels and our trains

                                                on time.  But all the while we want

 

                                                to love each other endlessly – not only for

                                                a hundred years, not only six feet up and down.

                                                We want the suns and moons of silver

                                                in ourselves, not only counted coins in a cup.  The whole

 

                                                idea of love was not to fall.  And neither was the

                                                the whole idea of God.  We put him well

                                                above ourselves, because we meant,

                                                in time, to measure up.

 

Meekness is not about asserting ourselves, but assenting and ascending to the ways of God and making them our ways in the world – nations, peoples, people, persons, you, me – all of us.  The blessing of so living is that we shall inherit a world like unto heaven on earth.  

Amen.

© Copyright 2008 First Presbyterian Church

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