Yeah, right, Jesus

This coming Sunday is All Saints,  a holiday that is sometimes ignored, overlooked, or misunderstood among Methodists (and others).  In his journal on November 1, 1767, John Wesley called it "a festival I truly love." Elsewhere he called it "a day that I peculiarly love" and a "comfortable day."  There is a fairly predictable lectionary reading for Sunday from Revelation, but perhaps not so obvious is the inclusion of Matthew's version of the Beatitudes, verses we've all heard, read, said, and sung until we don't perhaps grasp their radical message anymore, but it makes sense that we read them for All Saints because they serve as a sort of "job description" for everyone striving to be a saint.

I just participated in an online lectio divina in which these verses were read three times, once from the NRSV, once from the NIV, and once from The Message, and the leader prompted us with various questions.  In lectio divina, the first thing you do is listen for a word or phrase that jumps out at you and ponder it in various ways with successive readings/ hearings of the passage.  

I kept circling around the idea of "blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth," partly because Charles Wesley's hymn "Gentle Jesus, Meek and Mild" got stuck in my head and partly because that word "meek" is understood so pejoratively in our time.  It's become identified with the idea of being taken advantage of while gamely smiling all the time or of being humiliated or abused but taking it on the chin because of some great future reward being dangled in front of you.  The leader of our meditative reflection suggested we think of a sermon title or a heading we would give the Beatitudes, and when she said it need not be a "religious" or "pious-sounding" title, my immediate thought was, "Yeah, right, Jesus!" 

I wonder if the anonymous saints (or the famous ones, for that matter) that we will remember this coming Sunday felt blessed when they were faced with day after day of being ignored, being underpaid, being persecuted, being discriminated against, being humiliated, being denied justice, etc., or did they think, "Yeah, right, Jesus?!"  What about that descriptor, "meek?"  How might they have understood it? How has the word's meaning changed throughout the ages?

I looked at John Wesley's commentary on the passage, and I discovered that he rendered that verse as "Happy are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth."  He called the meek the ones "that hold all their passions and affections evenly balanced," and defined inheriting the earth as having "all things really necessary for life and godliness."  He went on to say that they would enjoy whatever portion they received from God here and now and that they would "hereafter possess the new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness."

Reading that changed my view of the idea of meekness.  The prospect of having all my passions and affections evenly balanced is pretty appealing, particularly since I struggle with both depression and anxiety.  I quite like the thought of being on an even keel despite whatever circumstances I find myself in.  That would be reward enough, especially with the promise of having everything that is really needed for life and godliness right here but of course, there is also the hope of a future in which to enjoy a new and righteous earth as my home.  

So maybe I won't be calling the Beatitudes "Yeah, right, Jesus" after all.  Perhaps I will instead see these verses as a description of the way in which God redeems and reclaims all things, even challenges like anxiety and depression. They offer hope to all of us ordinary saints, toiling away in our hidden little lives, not because we seek recognition or honor but simply because we really do want to be like the gentle Jesus, meek and mild, who looked upon a little child and saw in that little one a symbol of the kingdom of heaven itself.