In my previous post, I made the claim that American values
have become enmeshed within our Christian values and I called for a
divorce. Bold claims like this
exist all over the Internet and daily in our conversations. They are at least moderately outrageous
and are essentially demands for an entire system to simply stop being this
way. The idealist in me
desperately wants the system to stop being this way, and it wants it to happen
fifty years ago so that it would have been in place by the time I was born and
grew up in it. But the pragmatist
has his say as well, so I am willing to accept baby steps. More importantly, I am willing to
accept that I may be the only one making these steps (although I am confident
that I am not) and will not insist that everyone follow me in the change. A cultural shift, after all, can only
be achieved by the individuals within the culture making changes in their own
lives. A systemic problem is
primarily a reflection of the problems of the members within the system. But the change, being good, is
worthwhile even if it does not cause a change beyond the individuals who
recognize its value. So if you,
too, would like to consider how you might spiritually separate from your
national culture and enter more fully into your heavenly culture, following
will be some meditations that might be helpful.
I considered several approaches to this topic. After all, how does one define
“Christian values”? At first I
considered the virtues and the fruit of the Spirit (particularly as described
in the Catechism of the Catholic Church).
I considered the Ten Commandments, particularly as enlightened by Jesus
in the Sermon on the Mount. I
think these approaches would be wonderful, and I would encourage everyone
reading this to take serious time with all of those teachings. But for my purposes here, I’ll be
looking at the Beatitudes (Matt 5:3-12).
In meditating on these passages, it will be beneficial to
remember what I referred to previously as “Middle Class Christianity”. That is, Christianity that is satisfied
with a lack of heavenly wealth as long as it isn’t absolutely
poverty-stricken. As we walk with
Christ, it is good to strive to be more holy and not to settle for being less
than holy. This should not be a
source of stress or despair when we fail to be perfectly holy; rather, perfect
holiness should be a goal that we are constantly running toward.
It is worth noting that anything I might say here has
probably been said better by someone else. The only reason I would recommend continuing reading this is
that you’re reading it right now and you might have to search to find another
resource. We all know how
difficult it can be, in this busy world, to remember to find that book you were
meaning to read. I do also plan to
focus primarily on how these statements differ from American culture and
particularly American culture as I have seen it played out within churches.
And now that all of my caveats are out of the way, if you’re
still reading, let’s begin:
Blessed are the poor
in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Right off the bat, we get the promise of the kingdom of
heaven. This is the ultimate
prize, the thing for which we all long.
It is not just a home where we can find rest, it is a picture of
glory. The kingdom of heaven is
where we are honored. The image
here doesn’t seem to be one simply of citizenship. We don’t talk about a kingdom belonging to a citizen, but to
a king. So it seems here that the
blessing Jesus promises is a throne.
If we compare this to the American ideal, it’s like being
the President. Isn’t that what we
tell our children? In this
country, anyone at all could become the President of the United States. There is no higher worldly aspiration
than this. Not only will you be bestowed
with power and fame, but you will automatically win a place in history.
Comparing the presidency with an eternal throne in heaven,
the American ideal begins to pale a bit.
My main point in dwelling on this is to keep us focused on the value of
the promise. Will we settle for
the lesser and almost insignificant prize of power, fame, and history? If to have the one means to sacrifice
the other, then which will we choose?
Will we fall at the first hurdle and say that we can strive for
both? Some would say that it could
be done, but I would say that both require a great deal of attention and would
necessarily interfere with one another.
So let’s assume that we want to strive for the greater prize. Who, then, is promised this blessing?
The poor in spirit.
What a strange phrase. It
isn’t simply “the poor.” Most
people are poor, and Jesus certainly isn’t saying that all of the poor will
receive the kingdom of heaven.
Rather, it is the poor in spirit.
The best explanation I have heard of this was a story about the Virgin
Mary. Tradition says that when she
died, she had (I believe) two sets of clothing. Tradition also holds that she likely came from a wealthy
family. (Her parents, not her
family with Joseph and Jesus.) But
when Jesus was born, we know that the offering brought for his dedication was
the offering brought by the poor in Israel. And we have in tradition the story that she did not keep any
of her wealth, but used it to help the poor. Having wealth, she did not live as though she were wealthy or
as though the wealth belonged to her.
In her heart, she was poor.
This was how she lived. It
also wasn’t a simple detachment from wealth, in which she lived in the
equivalent of a ten bedroom mansion but said that money didn’t define her. It was a practical outworking of a life
of poverty, even if she was not in fact poor.
Now to contrast this with the contrary American ideal: The obvious one is “Blessed are the
wealthy,” but it is equally obvious that this doesn’t work. Wealthy contrasts with poor, but it
does not directly contrast with poor in spirit. What then? I
would suggest that the American value is Ambition. And we are left with the American beatitude of Blessed are the ambitious, for they shall
achieve the American Dream.
Ambition is the spirit of wealth, or of greed, where we
constantly seek more money or power or fame or respect or any like things. It is the striving to get ahead, either
to be recognized for our merits and so be promoted or elected, or to get ahead
at the expense of others, or to get ahead of where we currently are
financially. But to get ahead
necessarily means that we will leave others behind us, which could just as well
be characterized as below us.
The poor in spirit are ahead of no one. They, as St. Paul said, consider others
as greater than themselves. As our
Lord said, they become the servant of all. They do not seek their own gain, and when they achieve gain,
they do not see it as belonging to themselves. Instead, what they gain is given to others and used for
others.
Being so rooted in Capitalism, American Christianity is
particularly adept at syncretizing ambition and poverty of spirit. We do often hold the idea that as long
as we are giving to the church and giving to charity and claim that money doesn’t
own us, we can live in luxury.
Now, I know, you might not consider a small house and cable and a few
things you do to treat yourself luxuries.
I’m not about to tell you what things in your life are luxuries. And I’m not about to tell you to sell
everything you own and give it to the poor and live in a religious community
devoted to poverty like St. Francis did.
But it’s worth considering the example given us in the Virgin Mary of
two sets of clothing. Given the financial obsession than underpins our whole
culture, it might be particularly worth considering doing something financially
radical, however that might look, as a testimony and a means of self-discipline
if nothing else.
We also tend to see a lack of ambition as laziness. A Christian who is not trying to get
ahead is often considered not to be faithful. The argument goes that if he would work harder, get a
promotion, make more money, then he would be in a better position to help
others and possibly make a positive difference in the world. It makes a sort of sense, especially
when you consider that the person being told to get ahead is also being told to
maintain humility. But this is
being told to humbly work for personal exaltation. The irony is more apparent when phrased this way. The model taught us by Jesus is to be
faithful with what we have, not to strive to acquire more even if the more
could be used for good things.
Now a word on faithfulness. Often I hear financial faithfulness described as using your
money shrewdly, investing, having a solid retirement plan so that you’ll be
taken care of when you’re old without being a burden on anyone else. (The ambition to be self-sufficient.) I’ll use a work analogy to address this:
If I go into the office and spend eight hours a day writing and updating my
blog, I will get fired. My boss
will call me in and lambast me for not doing my work. I could then argue that I worked very hard and very faithfully
for all the hours required of me and even put in overtime. But I’ll still get fired, because I
wasn’t doing the job I was supposed to be doing. So we might be faithful in a sense, but if we are not being
faithful in the way that God cares about (he cares about helping the poor, by
the way, and that seems to be about his only interest in money) then we aren’t
really being faithful to God.
Jesus also reminds us that God knows our needs and will take care of
them. He feeds the birds and
clothes the lilies; aren’t we worth more than these?
I’ll quickly address the straw man forming in some
minds: Yes, Paul did insist that
people work so that they would not become a burden on the charity of the
church. He was referring to people
who were able to work but refused to work at all and instead had their needs or
the needs of their families provided by others within the church who were
working. Paul taught “don’t be an
idle leech” and not “work hard to get money and achieve self-sufficiency.” The goal of work is not wealth;
faithfulness is not financial security.
As I write this, I’m sitting in my house on a very
comfortable chair on a computer connected to the Internet. To my left is half a basket of laundry
because I needed a few clean things, while the rest of my wardrobe (a few weeks
worth, maybe?) is upstairs heaped on my floor. I have good food in the refrigerator, I have a decent amount
of money in the bank. Some of my
food is going to go bad before I get around to eating it. I know that I do not live as if I were poor. And am I ambitious? I like to tell myself I’m not. I don’t know. Time will tell.
Lord, please grant me the grace to be poor in spirit. Forgive
me for the ways in which I have set myself before others and sought to be above
them. Forgive me for putting my
hope in money. May I be faithful
with what you have given me, but not seek to acquire more than my daily
bread. May I live as you lived,
who did not exalt yourself but took on the likeness of a servant. May I also imitate your mother, who was
delighted to be poor despite the wealth she might have had. Please show me the luxuries in my life,
and help me to give up what I do not need or what is not good for me. Help me to love the poor as you love
the poor. Amen.
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