Blessed are the Meek, Part 2

Blessed are the Meek, Part 2

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”[1]

Unlike many of the Beatitudes, “Blessed are the meek…” does not have a corresponding verse in the Blessings and Woes found in the gospel of Luke. Of course, each author of each gospel had a particular audience they were writing for, and it is essentially impossible that any of the authors actually heard Jesus utter the words they quote him as saying. What they recorded was what had been passed to them by others, colored by the perceptions and biases of the group of believers they were a part of. Which does not make the gospels false or less useful, but it may call into question their precise accuracy from a historical or factual perspective.

In today’s world many try to equate truth with factual accuracy, but that is a fairly recent development in human and religious history and one that leads to a lot of nonsense about what Jesus may have said and what he meant. But we do not have eye-witness, verbatim accounts of Jesus’ actual words. Rather, we have the often-conflicting reports of the gospels from which we can still gain a general sense of the life he lived, how he lived it, and what he prioritized. And if there’s one trait that stands out about Jesus when considering the gestalt of the gospels it is that Jesus was meek. He was not weak or shy or mealy-mouthed, but he was meek. We usually name Jesus’ character by various synonyms of meekness like humility, gentleness, and kindness, but it still comes down to meekness.

Jesus preached and lived non-violence. Not just physical non-violence but also verbal and emotional non-violence. He spoke truth to power, particularly with the scribes and Pharisees by appropriately calling them hypocrites and blind guides. He turned over the tables of money-changers in the temple for desecrating its holy ground with thievery and deception. When the situation demanded strong words or actions, Jesus did not hesitate. But his responses were not the result of raw emotion or uncontrolled rage. Rather, his responses were what was most needed in the moment to bring about the most appropriate result. Even today, when an immediate response seems to require violence to answer appropriately, it is likely that an immediate response is not the best option. Rather, a temporary intervention – like removing oneself or another from immediate danger – may be needed until such time that an effective nonviolent response can be formulated. That is what meekness demands.

I am reminded of the words of American author and monk, Thomas Merton, saying that God’s first language is silence. God’s voice is easily drowned out by the constant din of our lives, by our on-going internal and external chatter, which only rachets up during emotional situations. God does not get louder as our world gets louder. Rather, God waits for us to quiet our minds before sometimes revealing whatever God’s message may be to us. Striving to attain silence is a very meek thing to do. Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still and know that I am God.” And there was Elijah’s encounter with God at Mount Horeb: “Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind, an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.”[2] The meek will inherit the earth because the earth is God’s, and God is meek.

As my wife, Carrie, was in the final weeks of her nearly 20-year ordeal with brain cancer, her inherent meekness was apparent. Yes, she had followed the recommendations of her doctors to try to slow or arrest the progression of the cancer with surgery, chemo, and radiation therapies, but she never struck out in anger at those trying to help her. As it became clear that she had exhausted all reasonable treatment options and that the cancer would soon take her away from this phase of her life, her biggest complaint to a friend was “cancer is crummy.” One evening as Carrie and I were sitting together she commented, “This isn’t fair.” And she was right. It wasn’t and isn’t fair, at least in terms of how we understand fairness, but it was the reality and little could be gained by striking out against anything or anyone. She accepted her fate because she had no other viable option, yes, but she accepted her fate meekly because that was part of who she was. She passed to the next phase of life peacefully, reaching acceptance of her (and our) inevitable fate with the persistent meekness by which she had lived. We could all do worse…

This is the 10^thin a series titled Blessedness and Woe.Life Notes are my explorations into mysteries that interest me. They are invitations for readers to explore more deeply into life’s mysteries. Engage with me or explore contemplative spiritual direction at ghildenbrand@outlook.com.

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[1] Matthew 5:5

[2] 1 Kings 19:11b-12