Blogging the Beatitudes

Heart Matters and New Names: the sixth beatitude

Happy February, Presbyterian women! Here we go on another of the beatitudes. This month, it's the sixth beatitude: the pure in heart who will see God. Of course, in our culture, February is usually less about "pure" hearts and more about these hearts:

 

Photo by Dave Parker, cc license, http://www.flickr.com/photos/daveparker/2264374058/

But this is not what Jesus means in this month's beatitude. In this month's beatitude Jesus calls us to honor those whose pure. In Jesus' day, someone with a pure heart waled with integrity before God and the community. This is not an easy thing to do, is it? Even when we know that things are unjust -- that the poor don't have what they need for food, or shelter, or heat or medicine -- it is hard for us to know what to do about it. It is hard to live a Christian life of integrity in a society that pushes our hearts away from purity to selfishness, greed, or apathy.

For those of us who do strive for that kind of integrity, the promise of the beatitude is that we will see God. But what a promise that is! For one who sees God may end  up wrestling, like Jacob. One who sees God may be sent out with an unpopular message, like Isaiah. One who sees God might end up bearing the Christ, like Mary. One who sees God might end up being an evangelist, like Magdala. And often, one who sees God ends up with a new name. So Jacob becomes Israel and Simon becomes Peter.

 

Rembrandt [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Are we ready to think about hearts this month: not candy hearts but our hearts? What might that mean for us? Might that mean taking a decision at work that might call to task our way of doing business? Might that mean choosing where we shop, or making it known to those from whom we buy that we expect them to do justice? Might that mean standing up against bullies who would silence those without power and status? Might it mean preaching the good news of Jesus Christ to a community that hears nothing but bad news-- bigotry and abuse and condemnation-- from the body of Christ?

As we think of the implications of having pure hearts this month, a month that is also black history month, perhaps we might consider the example of Isabella Baumfree, the slave of John Dumont of New York. Isabella was a slave in upstate New York, a woman of the late 18th and early 19th century. Like so many slaves before her, she was abused by her master and her mistress. Like so many slaves before her, Isabella went in search of the living God. And she began a relationship with the living God that, after she became a free woman, would forever change her.

Somewhere along the way, she had a vision of the living God, this woman who tried to walk with integrity of heart. And as she grew closer to the Christ who loved her, Isabella heard the call of God on her life, a call to live out the rule of love -- Love your neighbor as yourself. And she heard the God of her understanding give her a new name: Sojourner Truth.

By Battle Creek CVB (Sojourner Truth_detailUploaded by pixeltoo) [CC-BY-2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Sojourner Truth spent the rest of her life speaking truth to power through her Christian faith. In a time when women were rarely ordained, she preached the gospel to all who would listen, sometimes sleeping outside. At a time before war seemed inevitable, she stood against despair and the yearning for war in her compatriot Frederick Douglass, asking him if his God was dead. At a time when women were not really citizens at all, she stood up to those stereotypes that separated poor and rich woman, black and white women in her famous "Ain't I a Woman?" speech. And she continued to stand for the rights of those that Jesus calls us to honor until her life's end.

Friends, February truly is heart month, purity of heart month. We begin it by studying this beatitude. In its midst, we celebrate love. And, we end it on Ash Wednesday by praying David's famous prayer: "Create in me a clean heart, O God." So may it be with us. May we, like Sojourner Truth, walk in integrity before the God of our understanding, the God who created us, saved us and calls us to be sojourners, speaking truth. And when we see our God, may we be forever changed.

Grace and peace to all of you,
Margaret

New Year's Resolution -- be merciful

Happy New Year, Presbyterian Women!

Christmastide, the New Year, and the season of Epiphany all call us to renewed commitment of our walk of faith, as we live into this year of the Beatitudes. What better time than to let the fifth Beatitude lead us to making a New Year's Resolution. In the fifth beatitude, Jesus teaches his disciples to honor those who show mercy, for they will receive mercy.

To get a sense of what Jesus may have meant by "showing mercy," we need look no further than the parable of the Good Samaritan. In it, Jesus demonstrates the three-fold work of mercy: feeling compassion, taking action, and establishing covenantal relationship. The first two of these are easy to identify--the Samaritan man feels pity and takes matters into his own hands, caring for the wounded man.  However, we miss the power of the action of the Samaritan if we stop there. He also takes his own wealth -- two days wages -- gives it to the innkeeper and promises to pay for any more care the wounded man may need. This is not a one-time fix. The Samaritan is in it for the long haul.

As we consider this season of new beginnings -- the turning of the year to 2012, and the turning of our church year from Christmastide to the glory of Epiphany -- what might it mean for us to confess and to live into the fifth beatitude?

Perhaps, for us, it means that our New Year's Resolutions should be about something more than weight loss or getting more sleep. Perhaps, as Christians, we could dedicate this time of introspection to a recommitment to discipleship. This is the practice of many Methodist Christians around the world, for whom the first Sunday of January is Covenant Sunday, the Sunday in which they renew their commitment to Christ and dedicate the entire year to God.

Specifically, as guided by this teaching of Jesus, what might it mean for us to resolve that in 2012 we will be merciful? Let me make some suggestions.

Resolution 1: Pay attention

First, if we would be merciful, we must resolve to pay attention to those things we might rather not see. In the parable that Jesus tells, two other people see the man who has fallen among the robbers. But they, seeing, pass by. The one who shows mercy sees and stops. He sees  and pays attention.

To what do you  need to pay attention in your city or town? What do you not see, or see and pass by? In 2012, what would happen if you resolved to pay attention it, to see it and stop, to let its presence in your midst change your life? Presbyterian Women, let us resolve that in 2012, we will pay attention.

Resolution 2: Take action

Second, if we would be more merciful, then we must resolve that we will take action on behalf of those whom we see. The action we take should be concrete, immediate, and specifically helpful to the one in need. Think of what the Samaritan does. He sees someone who has been wounded and tends to his wounds out of his own resources.

Note also what the Samaritan does not do. He does not stop to ask why the person has been wounded or whose fault it is. After all, one could easily blame the solo traveler for not traveling within the safety of a caravan. If he won't take precautions, we might reason, he deserves what he gets. He isn't our concern. 

Whether or not the Samaritan thinks this to be true, he sees his responsibility not to judge or to criticize but to take direct action on behalf of the one in trouble.

What would happen if you or your circle, seeing a need, decided to take action on behalf of that need? What might that look like? For some of you, it may look like volunteering at a food pantry or taking a homeless person into the coffee shop with you for a cup of coffee. For others, it will mean knitting caps and blankets, or filling bags of protein-rich food for the hungry.

Presbyterian Women, as we consider our walk of faith in 2012, let us resolve not just to see people in hurt and pain, but to take action on their behalf.

Resolution 3: Practice Covenant Loyalty

Perhaps the most astonishing thing about the Good Samaritan story is that he puts two days wages into another man's hand for the care of a perfect stranger. And he promises to give more as necessary. Here, the Samaritan goes beyond taking care of immediate needs; he enters into a long-term relationship with a perfect stranger. Perhaps, over time, he and the stranger even became friends. Who knows? What is clear is that the Samaritan is not just going to disappear now that the stranger is out of immediate danger.

What about us? What does it mean for us not just to care in the immediate term, but to enter into a relationship, a relationship of covenant loyalty, with those whom God puts into our path? What if our resolution included that we would enter into deeper relationship with those for whom we are called to care, long-term covenant relationship?

The Call to Confession

Over the course of this PW study, I have invited you to write confessions of faith. I invite you to do so still. Perhaps this January, instead of writing out your resolutions, you might consider this question:

What do I believe is revealed about God -- Creator, Christ and Holy Spirit -- in Jesus' teaching about being merciful?

Who do I believe I am called to be in light of this teaching? How is that the same as or different from who I am now?

What is it, therefore, that I resolve to do? How do I resolve to honor the merciful? How do I resolve to be more merciful?

What is one tangible thing I can do to start?

As you pray and think about these things, let me leave you with the charge from the Methodist hymnwriter Charles Wesley, as a call to discipleship for us all in 2012.

Come, let us anew our journey pursue

Roll round with the year

And never stand still till the Master appear.

Happy New Year!

Those who are Famished for Food and Justice

November 1, 2011

Today, Presbyterian Women is All Saints Day. It is time to remember the saints who went before us, women like Dr. Wangari Maathai who planted trees to respond to deforestation and won a Nobel Peace Prize.

 

Planting trees may seem to have little to do with those who hunger and thirst either for food or for justice, but for the rural people of Kenya, the repairing of the ecosystem of the forest meant food, fuel and other resources on which they depended for life, resources that were being cut down and not replaced by rich companies and the governement. At the risk of her life and at the cost of her marriage, Dr. Maathai started a movement to plant trees that began to rebuild the forests and restore the livelihoods, particularly for the women of rural Kenya.

The late Dr. Maathai reminds us that there is a connection in the Beatitudes of Matthew and Luke between those who hunger and thirst, and those who hunger and thirst for δικαιοσυνη (dikaiosyne) that word that we usually translate as "righteousness" but in Greek means "justice."

On this plentiful planet, hunger and thirst can often be a matter of injustice, governmental or corporate or both. Hunger and thirst in populations from Appalachia to Somalia can point to the reality that God's gifts of the earth are not distributed to all who have need, or are being taken from some for the benefit of others. This was not the way of the very first church, the church in the Acts of the Apostles. According to Acts 2:44-45:

All who believed were together and had all things in common;they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. (NRSV)

It is tempting to think of "hunger and thirst" in Matthew's gospel as metaphors for deep longing. But if we do so, we have to ignore two things. First, the witness of Luke 6 is that Jesus' other teaching of the beatitudes was specifically good news to the hungry and chastisement of the stuffed. (Luke 6:20, 25)

Second, we have to ignore the context in which Jesus was speaking. Hunger and thirst were well known problems in Jesus' day. Scholars estimate that 50% of the calories of the ancient world were consumed by about 2% of the population. For the vast majority, their food was that "daily bread" for which Jesus taught his disciples to pray.

Indeed, it is no accident that the Lord's supper many of us will celebrate on November 6 is not a symposium feast, but a poor laborer's daily meal: bread and wine. Clearly, Jesus and his disciples would have eaten well on Passover night. But the simple elements that Jesus commanded we should use to remember him, bread and wine, would have been the daily food for which people of his day would hunger and would thirst.

November is an important month to think about hunger and thirst, both for food and for justice. As we celebrate the great reformers of the church and our call to be always reforming, we are called again to stand for those who yearn not only for grace but also for justice. As we remember the saints who have died, we are called to remember those who will hear from Jesus, "I was hungry and you gave me food." As we move toward the winter, here in the north, our food banks and our shelters will feel the need for our help as they care for those who hunger and thirst. As our nation continues to be embroiled in conversations about wealth and poverty, about hunger and thirst for food and for justice, our voice, the voice of the church, will need to be lifted up.

Perhaps learning more about this new initiative from the General Assembly Committee on Social Witness Policy is one response we might take. They have put online a new version of what used to be Church and Society. It is now called Unbound: A Christian Journal of Social Witness.

 

Or, maybe taking a cue from our sisters and brothers around the world, we might consider what it means to be part of a global family of Reformed Christians who also hunger and thirst for justice, by following the links on the World Communion of Reformed Churches website.

 

Of course many of you will not become Nobel laureates or change the discourse of the church. And giving to the Least Coin Offering or making just choices like Fair Trade coffee can seem to be just a small action given the huge challenges of hunger and thirst for food and for justice in our world today.

And it is when we despair that the saints are there to remind us of what we need to do. Listen to Dr. Maathai talk about a hummingbird.

 

 

 

Then let us be like the hummingbird, like the cloud of witneses. Let us do what we can, even if it seems. And, as we remember the Advent of our Lord at the end of this month, let us look forward to the day when Jesus will come and say to us, "I was hungry, and you gave me food."

Grace and peace.

 

 

 

Those who are Humbled -- a Report from CANAAC

Happy October, Presbyterian Women. I hope your fall is going well. I'll be seeing some of you in Arizona later this year! Today is World Communion Sunday, October 2. What better day for us to think together about the third beatitude!

In the third beatitude, Jesus says that "the meek shall inherit the earth." (Mat 5:5). As you now know from the study, Jesus is quoting Psalm 37, a psalm that challenges those who oppress the "meek" or the "humbled" as I have translated it. According to the Psalmist, these oppressors are wicked and wrongdoers (37:1 ff.) What makes them wicked? They plot and scorn, draw the sword and bend the bow, borrow and do not pay back, kill and oppress. By contrast, the meek are connected with those who are poor, who are oppressed, who are the target of those the Psalmist calls "wicked." It is for this reason, I have called them "humbled" and not "humble." Their humility-- or rather their humiliation -- is not a function of their piety but of what others have done and continue to do to them. 

Psalm 37, like many of the Psalms, invokes a day when injustice shall cease and when those who have been the victims of injustice shall be vindicated.  It holds up the hope that oppression will not be the ultimate victor, but that justice and just relationships between people will be the reality in God's holy reign.

Questions of justice are particularly poignant to me right now. Between Saturday September 24th and Thursday September 29th, I was part of a PCUSA delegation to the Caribbean and North American Area Council of the World Communion of Reformed Churches. There we gathered with congregational and Reformed churches from all over the region including Canada, the US, Dominican Republic, Jamaica, Trinidad and Tobago, Guyana, and Cuba. We met in the Dominican Republic to pray and talk together about our ministry together as a region. The basis for our justice work was the Accra Confession that starts on page 79 of your Bible studies.

There are many issues of justice for the economy and the earth in the Caribbean and North American context, but we paid special attention to those in the Dominican Republic. One of the most poignant cases was that of the Haitian migrant workers in the Dominican Republic. Many of these women and men cross the border in the island of Hispaniola to work in the sugar-cane fields that supply much of the sugar in North America. These Haitian workers, who come from the western side of the island of Hispaniola, are treated as undocumented farmworkers on the eastern side of the island of Hispaniola; Haiti and the Dominican Republic are on one island. As a result, these farmworkers, who do the backbreaking work of harvesting sugar cane for our western sweet tooth, are not citizens of the Dominican Republic and are not protected by its laws. Even more poignant are their children who are born in the Dominincan Republic. Since 2010, the constitution of the Dominican Republic doesn't allow these native-born children the status of citizenship. As a result, they don't have access to education or other government benefits.

Churches like the Iglesia Evangelica Dominicana and community organizations like MUDHA, El Movimiento de Mujeres Dominico-Haitienne  (the movement of Dominican/Haitian Mothers), try to address these humilations by providing basic elementary education.

I did not take many pictures of the children, but here is a video of them singing . The chorus means "I was born here."

 

The questions that we faced as an area council were: what does it mean to be the church together in this region? How can we support one another? What does the call to do justice look like and how do we read it? What does economic justice look like, not only in the Dominican Republic but in the whole Caribbean and North American region? What does ecological justice look like? What does justice look like for the most vulnerable in the society, the women and the children? What is our call as the church in this world at this time?

There are no easy answers to these questions. However, if we are disciples of Christ Jesus, then he calls us to think, to pray and to act in ways that honor those who are humbled: those who face oppression, injustice or death from others who are more powerful than they. For, says Jesus, they will inherit the earth.

Enjoy the fall weather that is even cooling down hot Atlanta!

Grace and peace,
M. Aymer 

Those who Mourn — Listening to the Global Church

Greatly honored are the mourners, for they will be comforted. --Mt. 5:4

Greatly honored are you who weep now, for you will laugh.

But shame on you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep. --Lk. 6:21b, 25b

 

Much is said today about listening to the voices of the global church. And yet, when our sisters and brothers from the rest of the church speak, it can often leave us uncomfortable. We are often unprepared to hear their grief, their anger, and their calls for justice because it makes demands on us and our way of life.

So it is with the Accra Confession, the confession that the World Alliance of Reformed Churches passed back in 2004 and the World Communion of Reformed Churches (WCRC) affirmed in 2010. All told, the WCRC represents 80 million Reformed Christians, most of whom live in the global south.

Listen to what they say:

The annual income of the richest 1 per cent is equal to that of the poorest 57 per cent.

24,000 people die each day from poverty and malnutrition.

The HIV and AIDS global pandemic afflicts life in all parts of the world, affecting the poorest where generic drugs are not available.

The majority of those in poverty are women and children.

The number of people living in absolute poverty on less than one US dollar per day continues to increase.

As Christians, what should be our response to these realities? How do we hear Christ's beatitudes when this is the state of our world?

When we read Jesus' teaching to the disciples—“Greatly honored are the weepers and mourners”—it is easy to envision Jesus speaking to those in our own communities who have lost loved ones, jobs, homes, pensions.We see those recently affected by the floods and winds of Hurricane Irene and the earthquake in Virginia. Surely we see those in our own churches who have difficult times and can find no comfort.

And, in two weeks, on September 11, 2011, we will remember a time of great mourning in our nation, a time in which thousands of people died in New York and Washington DC and Pennsylvania; a time when Muslim sisters were afraid to walk in public in head coverings; a time when we went to war.

I honor our need to mourn all of these sorrows. None of them is unimportant. None of them is insignificant to our Triune God who sees our sorrows and knows our cries.

But if we seek to honor only those mourners we see, we may be missing a call to live as the whole body of Christ in the world. After all, as Paul says, "the eye cannot say to the hand, 'I have no need of you'" (1 Corinthians 12:21).

Perhaps the call to us from the second beatitude is not a call to choose which mourners we will honor, but to listen, to be challenged by, and to honor all those who mourn: families of dead men, women and children on both sides of conflicts; the hungry here and in Somalia; women, men and children who die from HIV and AIDS, regardless of whether they contracted it from heterosexual sex, homosexual sex, drug addiction or blood-infusion; those who are losing their livelihood in this country, and those who, because of our policies and the policies of the richest nations of the world, have never had a real livelihood in nations all over the world.

For Jesus does calls us to take sides, but not in the right/left, conservative/progressive categories of our current debates. Rather, Jesus teaches his disciples on the mountain that the way of Christ is to take sides with the victims—those who mourn, who refuse to stop mourning, who find no comfort in this world and no hope for comfort in the future. Jesus calls us to side with the professional mourners and the weepers, those who raise their voices in sorrow and protest, not because they are sinless but because we are Christ's disciples.

Not to do so is to risk becoming those who laugh—those who laugh because they do not see any pain in the world or any need for tears; and those who laugh mocking those who weep as somehow deserving of their pain. It is against these laughers that Jesus pointedly issues his charge: "Woe to you", or as KC Hanson has argued, "Shame on you who are laughing now."

In 1966, reformed theologian Karl Barth said:

"The Pastor and the Faithful should not deceive themselves into thinking that they are a religious society, which has to do with certain themes; they live in the world. We still need - according to my old formulation - the Bible and the Newspaper."

Perhaps that is one way we may honor those who mourn. Perhaps, as people of faith, this month we should read every newspaper article, watch every television program, listen to every radio program with this verse of the Bible in mind. And as we read, or listen, or watch, perhaps we should pray, "Lord Jesus, show me those who mourn and teach me how to honor them."

For the world of mourners is bigger, and the sound of mourning is greater, than anything we can hear even in the world around us. But God hears this sound, and God calls the church, as the body of Christ guided by the Holy Spirit, to pay attention.

In the Accra Confession, Reformed Christians from around the world are trying to do just that. Will we listen? Will we honor those who mourn, as Christ commanded us?

 

We believe that God calls us to hear the cries of the poor and the groaning of creation and to follow the public mission of Jesus Christ who came so that all may have life and have it in fullness (Jn 10.10). Jesus brings justice to the oppressed and gives bread to the hungry; he frees the prisoner and restores sight to the blind (Lk 4.18); he supports and protects the downtrodden, the stranger, the orphans and the widows. —Accra Confession, 28.

(PS: One of the best resources for understanding this beatitude is the excellent skit by Gusti Newquist on the Horizons website. Look for it as the second of the Role-Playing skits, titled "The Faces of the Beatitudes: Skits from the Time of Jesus".)

Taking Jesus Seriously -- The First Beatitude

When you Presbyterian women asked me to write this study, one of your instructions was that I should tackle Jesus' beatitudes both in the gospel according to Matthew (Mt. 5:3-12) and in the gospel according to Luke (Lk. 6:20-26). [You can find all of your “marching orders” to me on the inside front cover of your study book.] That's not as easy as it sounds as there are some significant differences between the two.

Take, for instance, the first beatitude. The author of Luke records Jesus saying, “Greatly honored are you who are ptochoi (destitute).” The author of Matthew records Jesus saying “Greatly honored are the ptochoi (destitute) in spirit.” These seem to be saying quite different things.

It is tempting to ignore the rendering of the first beatitude in Luke, and insist that the first beatitude in Matthew has to do with humility and piety. While that is certainly a valid way to interpret these ancient teachings, perhaps it doesn't take Jesus seriously enough. Let's consider what Jesus actually says in Greek:

First of all, both in Matthew and in Luke, Jesus uses the word ptochoi. This is the masculine, plural form of the Greek adjective ptochos. (Masculine plural, in the ancient world, was often used to include women and men, just as mankind was used in the 1950s in the USA). What does ptochos mean?

According to the most recent Bauer, Danker, Ardt and Gingrich (BDAG) lexicon, (what scholars call the “gold standard” of biblical Greek lexica), ptochos primarily means “dependent upon others for support.” This is distinguished from those who are the working poor, or the penes. BDAG says the penes are “obliged to work for a living but not reduced to begging.” To take Jesus seriously, we must reflect upon Jesus' use of the word for the destitute in the first beatitude.

In Luke, Jesus is clearly speaking economically. After he calls the beggars in the crowd “greatly honored,” he turns his scorn on those who have, as BDAG puts it “an abundance of earthly possessions that exceeds normal experience.” To these, Jesus says “Woe to you” or “Shame on you” who are affluent (plousioi) now, for you already have your reward."

Why does this matter?

Even before we tackle the last two words in the beatitudes of Matthew ("in spirit"), we who live and work in the rich, global north are confronted with an uncomfortable truth. In Luke, Jesus is distinguishing between those who have an abundance of possessions and those who are destitute and dependent on others. Jesus is intentionally reversing their order of importance in the kingdom of God. To take Jesus seriously, we must realize that poverty and wealth mattered to Jesus. And as Jesus' disciples, if poverty and wealth mattered to Jesus, both should matter to us.

Now that we have a little bit more insight into the beatitudes in Luke, let's consider: what do we do with the last two words of Matthew? What might it mean to be destitute in spirit?

Many have suggested that destitution in spirit is a sense of spiritual mourning—a recognition of one's state of sinfulness and dependence upon God for grace. And, it is true that one act of the grace we are given by the sovereign God is the gift of self-recognition, of acknowledging our own sinfulness and our own need for the grace and goodness of God.

But what if we hold Luke and Matthew together, rather than reading them as two radically different sermons by Jesus? What if we read Jesus' first beatitude in Matthew as a call to honor those for whom physical destitution has started to eat away even at their spirits—for whom the reality of life at the mercy of others has begun to destroy their very souls, and their sense of hope?

This is going on today in India, the nation to which some of you will be traveling for the Global Exchange this October. For the last few years, India has been facing a massive economic crisis in its farm belt—a crisis brought on by environmental change, the depletion of the water table, industrially-produced seeds and pesticides that wreak further damage on the environment and insurmountable debt. This economic crisis has left working farmers penniless, losing everything including their family land.

The result of this destitution has been despair—a ripping at the souls of these farmers to the point that thousands of them have been committing suicide every year. According to a May 11, 2011 report Every Thirty Minutes from the NYU Center for Human Rights and Global Justice, a quarter of a million Indian farmers have committed suicide for these reasons in the last 16 years.

I learned about this crisis one summer day in 2008, as I sat in worship at the United Theological College of Bangalore. And as I listened to the sermon preached that day in chapel, I wondered whether this too was what Jesus might have meant by the “destitute in spirit.” What might it mean to be so impoverished that your very spirit is shattered, and you feel that life itself is not worth living? What might it mean to be in so far over your head that the only reasonable escape you can find is to drink poison?

And what might it mean to us today, as Jesus' disciples, to honor those who are both destitute and destitute in spirit: to honor them not because they are sinless or in any way perfect, but because we are the disciples of Jesus Christ, he who proclaimed good news to the poor (Lk. 4), and who taught that what we do to “the least of these” we do to Christ himself (Mt. 25)?

So what do you think? How do you read the first beatitude? Feel free to respond with a comment below.

I will leave you with a confession of faith from one of the workshops from the 2011 Alabama/Mississippi Women's Conference.

We believe God is a compassionate God who cares about creation. God is loving and just. God calls us to be hands working to honor the destitute. Our loving, just, gracious God includes the poor in the kingdom. Hidden survivors of discrimination by material society, government and the church are destitute and are in the kingdom of God. If we honor the destitute, it would open our churches to include everyone, and connect us to our sisters and brothers in Christ. Presbyterian Women are called to build an inclusive, caring society that opens its heart and arms to all of God's children and bears witness to the steadfast love of Christ. Presbyterian Women are called by God in Jesus Christ and empowered by the Holy Spirit to find ways and means of feeding, clothing, housing and nurturing the poor and the destitute, the affluent and wealthy, and all created in God's image so all may glorify God and sing praises to God forever. “Forgiven and freed by God in Jesus Christ and empowered by the Holy Spirit we commit ourselves to nurture our faith through prayer and Bible study to support the mission of the church worldwide, to work for justice and peace; to build an inclusive, caring community of women that strengthens the Presbyterian Church (USA) and witnesses to the promise of God's Kingdom.” (Montgomery, AL, 21 July 2011)

Introduction - Greatly Honored?

I know, I know. You miss your "Blessed ares." Where are those words we have come to love, we have memorized all our lives? Where are those great, poetic words of Tyndale and the King James Bible that we have loved all our lives?

And I agree with you. The King James version of the Beatitudes is beautiful and it makes my soul sing too. I just think that, if we don't take a step back and consider what these words mean, we could make a mistake. We could mistake destitution, mourning and weeping, oppression and humiliation, hunger, thirst and the yearning for justice as blessings of God. After all, isn't that what "blessed are" means?

Well, not really. You see, the word for "blessing" of God is "eulogeo" or "eulogia." It's exactly where the word "eulogy" comes from. When the New Testament writers want to indicate that God is blessing someone else, they usually use a form of one of these two words.

But in the Beatitudes, Jesus uses the word "makarios," a word that designates not "blessing" but "honor." Here, Jesus is calling us to do something -- to honor those about whom he teaches. What might it mean to honor another person?

I know what it has meant for me in PW gatherings around the U.S. It means that I have been welcomed, no matter how rumpled or road weary I might appear. It means that I have been housed and fed. Little chocolates have appeared in welcome bags in my room. I have been invited to sit at table, and my thoughts have been taken seriously. I have been made to feel a part of a wonderful, woman-led Christian movement that seeks to partner with sisters and brothers from around the world to do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God.

I wonder what it might mean for us to treat those who are destitute -- in body or in spirit -- with this kind of honor? I wonder what it might mean for us to welcome our sisters and brothers who cannot earn a living for themselves? What might it mean for us to work together so that they might be housed and fed? How might we bend over backwards to make them feel welcome?

What do you think?

Blog the Beatitudes with Margaret Aymer beginning in July! We'll be testing the site for the next few weeks. Stay tuned for more information!