Well, it’s Christmas, and I
promised I’d write a series of posts on the Beatitudes. How fitting, then, that
I should begin my attempt to fulfill that pledge during this sacred celebration
of Christ’s birth with today’s reflection on the poor and poor in spirit!
In recent years, Christmas has
become a season I look toward with a bit of trepidation. I know; as a friar
that seems rather counter-intuitive, but I’m sure there are many folks (maybe
even a few who are reading this) that can relate. I’m grateful and delighted
when I have the opportunity to spend part of the season with family and
friends, as I do this year. But regardless of whatever yuletide festivities or
even prayerful pursuits I take part in during Advent and Christmas, I always
feel like there is something deeper I’m missing. Perhaps it’s a Charlie Brown
syndrome – a despair in the artificialness and commerciality of the season. The
remedy to Charlie Brown’s melancholy was his friend Linus’ recounting of Luke
2:8-14. He famously concludes his speech with, “That’s what Christmas is all
about, Charlie Brown.”
I have to give Linus credit; he
makes his point simply and clearly. Moreover, it’s the truth! Granted, the
incarnation of Christ in our world is a mystery, and like all mysteries, it is
infinitely knowable. We can never exhaust our understanding of it nor plumb its
depths. That being said, perhaps my own Charlie Brown-esque angst over Christmas
cannot be satisfied by hackneyed slogans like, Jesus is the Reason for the Season or Keep Christ in Christmas.
I think most of us, at least in
the back of our minds, realize that Christmas, first and foremost, is about the
birth of Christ. But what Jesus’ coming into the world means… well, that’s a
mystery – a boundless and immeasurably deep ocean. And while I can swim with my
head above the water among the ornaments, garland, and nativity figurines floating
about on the surface, I have this relentless urge to dive a little deeper. I'll admit, however, that I'm sometimes nervous to do so, because I'm afraid of how I might be challenged.
In this vast sea there are
endless facets of the Christmas mystery to explore and meditate upon. One might
ponder Mary’s humility in becoming the mother of God. Another could reflect on
the self-emptying of God in becoming not only human but a tiny, helpless
infant! Perhaps it is God’s great act in salvation history that moves a
person’s heart – the bright dawn of our redemption shining upon us! Maybe the awesome
change our world has undergone in the incarnation of the Son of God is what
elicits sober contemplation. There are metaphors of Christ as shepherd and
king. There are messages throughout of peace and mercy. It could simply be a word,
or a phrase, or an image from the Scriptures: Glory; Good news; Savior; Messiah;
Salvation; Joy; Emmanuel (God is with us); Newborn King of the Jews; Jesus,
lying in a feeding trough; Gentile visitors from afar offering homage.
Indeed, one could go on and on
about all the rich aspects of our faith which issue from the infancy
narratives. Countless hymns draw from such imagery and conjure up riveting
lyrics to expound upon those mysteries: And Heaven and nature sing; God and
sinners reconciled; Thus to come from highest bliss/Down to such a world as
this; Glorious now behold him arise/King and God and Sacrifice; etc.
You don’t need me to tell you
what wondrous feature of the Christmas mystery to meditate on. There are so
many on which to look. So please, take time for yourself in quiet this holiday
season to contemplate whatever speaks to you. However, I promised I would write
about the first of the Beatitudes in this post. Therefore, I invite you to
consider how the infancy narratives – and much of the rest of Scripture for
that matter – take up this theme of God’s favor toward the poor.
Now, I don’t want to glorify
poverty for the same reason I don’t think it’s proper to glorify suffering.
Anyone who is in desperation of any kind most likely would rather not be in
that situation, and there is nothing glamorous about not having shelter, or
enough food or clothing. But in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is very plain spoken: Blessed are you who are poor, for the
kingdom of God is yours… But woe to
you who are rich, for you have received your consolation (Lk 6:20b, 24).
Matthew’s Gospel does not include
a list of woes to contrast the Beatitudes. Furthermore, Matthew uses the
expression “the poor in spirit” instead of “you who are poor.” Some scholars
suggest that, although Matthew probably precedes Luke, it is actually Luke’s
more direct version of the Beatitudes that follows more closely to Jesus’
original preaching. In any case, it’s clear that, according to Luke, Jesus is
speaking of the economically and materially poor. The question, though, remains: why
are the poor so blessed?
In
the spirit of Christmas, I defer to Charles Dickens’ beloved A Christmas Carol for some insight. When
the Ghost of Christmas Present takes Scrooge onto the streets of London on
Christmas morn, he sprinkles incense from his torch onto the meals of
poor revelers. Scrooge inquires about the Spirit’s spice and asks if it would
go with any kind of dinner on Christmas. The Spirit replies, “‘To any kindly
given. To a poor one most.’
‘Why
to a poor one most?’ [asks] Scrooge.
‘Because it needs it most.’” The
Spirit answers.[1]
Why are the poor afforded the
blessings of God? Because they need
it the most! Consider Luke’s, Woe to you
who are rich, for you have received your consolation. It isn’t quite a
curse, but it seems to say, “You already have what you need. Your wealth and comfort
appear to be enough for you, and you have no room for further blessings.” However, the one who is in need is more open to receiving! By contrast, maybe there’s a message in the inns which were too full to receive Mary and
Joseph. I don’t know. Yet those who don’t have anything have that much more
space to be filled with God’s love. Think of the Blessed Virgin Mary, for
instance. Here’s a poor girl from a backwater town, who has never known a man,
and who has no expectations of living anything different from a rather ordinary
life with her future husband. She was someone most receptive to the monumental
grace of being the mother of God’s own Son.
Mary’s Magnificat (Lk 1:46-55)
epitomizes what “Blessed are the poor (and poor in spirit)” is all about: For he has looked upon his handmaid’s
lowliness… The Mighty One has done great things for me… dispersed the arrogant
of mind and heart…thrown down the rulers… lifted up the lowly… The hungry he
has filled… the rich he has sent away empty. It mirrors, sometimes almost
verbatim, another canticle from the Hebrew Scriptures - that of Hannah, who was
an aged and barren wife blessed with a child, the prophet Samuel (cf. 1 Sam 2:1-10). Both the Old and the New Testament repeat this theme of God’s favor
toward the poor and the lowly, toward widows and orphans, foreigners and barren
wives. These are the ones most in need of it and most receptive to it. To whom
was the birth of Christ announced by the angels, but to poor, wretched
shepherds, who were among the lowest classes in first-century Palestine. Who
could be more receptive to the birth of a savior? Who would look forward to
God’s action of “lifting up the lowly” and “filling the hungry with good
things” more than these?
Even Matthew’s Gospel illustrates
the receptivity of those on the fringes. The Magi are Gentile foreigners, yet
they are the first to accept the Good News of Christ’s birth, knowing that it
is the dawn of salvation for all peoples, regardless of nationality. Matthew
also uses the theme of the blessed outsider when the Holy Family has to seek
asylum in Egypt from the threat of Herod. In part, this scene is to identify
Jesus more closely as a new Moses, yet one cannot help but recognize that
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph - God’s own Son and his highly favored ones – are all,
for a time, refugees in a foreign land! I may surmise that the Bible does not always offer immediate answers to every problem, but I believe that the
correlation between the flight into Egypt and today’s refugee crisis is
obvious. No one whose life has truly been touched by the Gospel can look upon
those risking their lives to find refuge in another country and not see the
blessed poor of God, the beneficiaries of God’s kingdom!
Not only are the poor in need and
most receptive to God’s grace, but having less often leads to an increased
sense of gratitude. When one is accustomed to so little, even the smallest
blessing is something to be wildly thankful for. Moreover, when one has nothing
to give in return, gratitude is the greatest gift that can be offered. There’s
something quite humbling about that, in fact. Oh, but how much God delights in
a grateful and humble heart! Think, again, of Mary’s Magnificat. “…from now on will all ages call me blessed.
The Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.” Mary
gives God all the glory, and she will be called blessed, not because of her own
merits, but because of what God has
done for her! Gratitude and humility go hand-in-hand; you see? As for ourselves
and our relationship to God, we should all be immensely grateful, because all
we can really call our own are our sins. All good things come from God.
So while there are certainly diverse
explanations as to why the poor are so favored by God, I draw attention to
three things: they are in need; they are most receptive; and they are inclined
toward humble gratitude. But that does not mean that there is no hope for
experiencing God’s blessings if one is not economically poor. God’s grace is abundant!
How much God would love for everyone to be a part of his kingdom, to enjoy his
bountiful feast! God doesn’t withhold anything from those who are well off, and
having means is not, in and of itself, a bad thing.
That being said, regardless of our economic
status, we are all called to be poor in
spirit. We live up to this calling when we empty ourselves of those things
we don’t need, especially those things that clutter up our lives. It might be
material possessions, but it may also be things such as time or spiritual
matters, like a grudge, or pride, or worries. When we empty ourselves of these
things, then we become open vessels just waiting to be filled with God’s grace!
And lastly, when we realize that everything we have is from God, all we can do
is be thankful for all that we have been given.
Furthermore, since we cannot call
what has been given to us our own, everything we have is for us to share
with others. It is not, then, impossible for those who are well off to be poor in spirit. Although they may not
be in need of much, theirs is to acknowledge with gratitude and humility
that they are already unworthy recipients of God’s manifold grace and to be
stewards of the good things they have received, giving generously from what has
been freely given to them. Think of Scrooge after his encounters with the three spirits, not before. For related Scripture passages, see Mark 10:17-31;
Matthew 25:31-46; Luke 3:10-14; and Luke 19:1-10.
Undoubtedly, there is much more
that can be said about this Beatitude of the poor and poor in spirit. Indeed,
deep and wide is this mystery! However, I shall wrap things up here – it’s
Christmas, after all. Hopefully you have a chance this week to read one or both
of the infancy narratives (Mt 1:18-2:23 & Lk 1:5-2:40), especially if you suffer from Charlie Brown-like blues at this time of year. As you read them, see
what mystery of Christmas speaks most deeply to you. Like Mary, ponder these
things in your heart. I invite you, though, to consider what aspects of these
stories relate to God’s loving care for the poor. How might you imitate God’s
concern for those in need, and how might you become poor in spirit this new year –
self-emptying, receptive, humbly grateful, and giving?
“‘And so, as Tiny Tim observed,
‘God bless us, Every One!’”[2]
