| July 12, 1998 |
Vol. I, No. 11
|
In Matthew 5:5, Jesus said, "Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth." Jesus' statement is arresting and alarming. Few in our society would consider meekness an asset. To most, it would definitely seem to be a liability. And to state that the meek will inherit the earth is to state that which hardly seems possible to the modern mind. According to the thinking of most folk, no one is less likely to inherit the earth than the meek. But Jesus did say, "Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth."
Perhaps one reason we tend to find this beatitude so contrary to our thinking is that we fail to grasp the real meaning of meekness. When we hear of a person who is meek, we tend to think of one who is spineless, never takes a stand, never gets in anybody's way. In so thinking, we miss the point. Jesus never commended such. Maybe we can best illustrate the true nature of a meek character by noting that the Bible says that "Moses was very meek, above all the men who were upon the face of the earth." (Numbers 12:3). If we know anything about Moses, we know that he was not weak and spineless and fearful. We know that he did not hesitate to take a stand for what was right and to actively oppose that which was wrong. Meekness, then, is not spinelessness.
In our modern way of speaking, the word "gentle" would perhaps best describe the attitude Jesus was commending. Blessed are the gentle, for they shall inherit the earth. We should be well aware that a person can be strong, steadfast, courageous--and yet be gentle in his dealings with those he has to rebuke and oppose.
But what does the passage mean when it says that the meek or gentle will inherit the earth? There is a very real sense in which those who learn to be kind and loving and gentle in their dealings with both friends and enemies, actually come to know the best and most meaningful lives upon the earth. The earth is theirs in the sense that they, most of all, have learned how to use its blessings to the full benefit. In 1 Corinthians 3:21-23, Paul wrote to Christians, "All things are yours; whether Paul or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours; and you are Christ's; and Christ is God's."
But, perhaps even more, Jesus was talking about the new heavens and new earth promised in 2 Peter, chapter three and Revelation, chapter 21, which we usually refer to as heaven. Blessed are those who learn gentleness, for heaven will be made up of such folk.
--CRJ
We make a living by what we
get,
but we make a life by what
we give.
A few months before I was born, my dad met a stranger who was new to our small Tennessee town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer, and soon invited him to live with our family.
The stranger was quickly accepted and was around to welcome me into the world a few months later. As I grew up I never questioned his place in our family. In my young mind, each member had a special niche. My brother, Bill, five years my senior, was my example. Fran, my younger sister, gave me an opportunity to play 'big brother' and develop the art of teasing. My parents were complementary instructors -- Mom taught me to love the word of God, and Dad taught me to obey it.
But the stranger was our storyteller. He could weave the most fascinating tales. Adventures, mysteries, and comedies were daily conversations.
He could hold our whole family spell-bound for hours each evening. If I wanted to know about politics, history, or science, he knew it all. He knew about the past, understood the present, and seemingly could predict the future. The pictures he could draw were so life like that I would often laugh or cry as I watched.
He was like a friend to the whole family. He took Dad, Bill, and me to our first major league baseball game. He was always encouraging us to see the movies, and he even made arrangements to introduce us to several movie stars. My brother and I were deeply impressed by John Wayne in particular. The stranger was an incessant talker. Dad didn't seem to mind -- but sometimes Mom would quietly get up -- while the rest of us were enthralled with one of his stories of faraway places -- go to her room, read her Bible and pray. I wonder now if she ever prayed that the stranger would leave.
You see, my dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions. But this stranger never felt obligation to honor them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our house -- not from us, from our friends, or adults. Our longtime visitor, however, used occasional four letter words that burned my ears and made Dad squirm. To my knowledge the stranger was never confronted. My dad was a teetotaler who didn't permit alcohol in his home -- not even for cooking. But the stranger felt like we needed exposure and enlightened us to other ways of life. He offered us beer and other alcoholic beverages often.
He made cigarettes look tasty, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished. He talked freely (probably too much too freely) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing. I know now that my early concepts of the man-woman relationship were influenced by the stranger.
As I look back, I believe it was the grace of God that the stranger did not influence us more. Time after time he opposed the values of my parents. Yet he was seldom rebuked and never asked to leave.
More than thirty years have passed since the stranger moved in with the young family on Morningside Drive. He is not nearly so intriguing to my dad as he was in those early years. But if I were to walk into my parents' den today, you would still see him sitting over in a corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures.
His name? I only knew him as TV.
--From the Internet