Draw down, Beloved

There is an elephant in the room,
and it isn’t the Republican one.

It is a big ole elephant
that makes everyone uncomfortable
and is just plain painful.
It’s this:
Jesus may call a bunch of unfortunates
who inhabit the margins
”blessed,”
but we know
there are some mean, nasty people
with beau-coup and goo-gobs of money
who are blessed beyond measure
as millions of others
struggle,
starve,
get maimed and killed
by the weapons that those others
make and own,
and are generally vulnerable,
unwell, and with no prospect
of getting any better.
But here is the thing
that keeps me looking past
that ugly and maddening contrast
for a bit of grace or truth
in what Jesus said.
Jesus lived in the world
of ugly contrasts too —
in fact, his world was uglier than ours.
You want to talk violence,
mayhem, chaos, death, and taxes?
First century Judah and Galilee
were a case study in ugly.

So Jesus knew something we don’t, which
isn’t a big surprise, is it?
I mean Jesus had ugly come down on him
with torture and crucifixion
and even so, a world religion
named after him
swallowed the empire
that killed him
like an amoeba gulping down protozoan.
I don’t know where that analogy came from.

Anyway, blessed and blessed and blessed
are the ones who are cursed
and beat up
and beat down
and otherwise trodden upon
by those who live in comfort
with most of the money and toys.

That is the elephant I’m talking about
and it stands here moseying around
chomping on the grass
whenever Jesus’ beatitudes
comes up in the lectionary.
At least it does in my small mind
which is unduly taken up
with questions of fairness and even playing fields.
But the trap door under the beatitudes
is that “blessed”
doesn’t mean what we think it means,
or what it means to us today.

When Christians make ready to eat
the custom is, as we say,
”to say a blessing.”
We “bless the food to our use
and us to your service”
is one familiar blessing.
It is as if we are asking God
to dedicate the food
for some special service,
or thanking God
for receipt of a gift.

Jews do not bless food
but bless God.
They give God blessing, which
can be confusing to Christians
since it seems to be the lesser
giving something to the greater.

But Baruch Atah, “blessed are you,”
is not the creature giving a blessing to the Creator.

Rather, Baruch, the Hebrew word for “blessing”
is related to the Hebrew word for “drawing down.”
So blessing God
is the act of drawing down the holy
into the thing being blessed.

So, for example, to say, “Blessed are you
who heals the sick.,”
it is hoped that blessing God
who is the source of healing
will draw down that healing power
upon the one who is sick.

Baruch Atah, blessed are you,
is to draw down the power or presence of God
to the ones or things
being addressed.
It is not bless this food, but rather,
bless God, the source of this food
who might then make it more abundant.

So it isn’t difficult to see
that Jesus is not blessing the poor in spirit
because they peacemakers
or because they are merciful,
he is asking God to draw down
upon them — to manifest the holy within them.
Baruch, draw down, Beloved
on those who mourn.

Baruch, draw down, Beloved
on the meek.
Baruch, draw down, Beloved
on those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.
Baruch, draw down, Beloved
on the merciful.
Baruch, draw down, Beloved
on the pure in heart.
Baruch, draw down, Beloved
on the peacemakers.
Baruch, draw down, Beloved
on the persecuted.

He is not blessing them with some
spiritual commodity
as if casting a magic wand in their direction
and giving them goodies.
He is blessing God for them
and inviting God
to be present to them.

In our world, especially
in the United States of Capitalism,
when we hear someone say, “I’m blessed”
what we are hearing is: “I have something.”
And sometimes, in the way it is said,
it can also mean: “I have something…
and you don’t.”

When we hear someone say,
they know somebody else who is “blessed”
it often means: “they got something.”

We think in terms of commodities —
things we have or don’t have —
and so blessings are things bestowed upon someone.
”Oh, you are so blessed,”
means, “Oh, you got what you wanted,
aren’t you lucky.”

But again, that is not what Jesus is saying.
He is saying, “Come down, Beloved,
and be with those who mourn.
Come down, Beloved,
and be with the peacemakers.
Come down, Beloved,
and be with those who hunger…”

We may be thinking, “and give them
some of that booty that the Tax Collectors took”
or “and give them some of that coercive power
that Pontus Pilate punishes them with.”
If they are going to be meek, after all,
what is their reward?

So we have gotten used to hearing
these beatitudes as the downtrodden
getting their reward
for being downtrodden.
That is the happy ending as we would write it.
But that isn’t what is going on here.
Jesus is blessing God
and in so doing, asking God
to be present with those who suffer.

Let me step away from Jesus a minute
and closer to home.
When I suffer — when I hurt
or am struggling in a way that I don’t imagine
anyone in my life can fix —
I might call upon the saints to sit with me.

I do not mean saints with a capital “S”
as in historic figures
the institution has promoted to spiritual superhero.
Rather, I mean the folks who I know loved me
and who did their best to try to protect
and teach me.

Now please understand,
I do not have a clear and fixed idea
about any kind of afterlife.
I simply do not know
what happens on the other side of death.

I do not expect to know ahead of time.
Faith is another word for trust,
and trusting God is what we have to do
when it comes to such things beyond
our knowledge and control.

But that doesn’t mean
I do not have a great imagination
and that I haven’t experienced things
that don’t make sense
in the world of science and rule books.
To sit in the council of those who loved me
and taught me,
and have gone on before me
is to know healing.

To gather them and simply sit in their presence
is often enough to restore me,
in the same way that God’s simple presence
is enough to sustain me.

You and I know how powerful simple presence is.
It is what we crave
when we hurt and suffer and are alone.
We don’t want someone
to come tell us it will all be okay
or that they can fix it for us.
We want someone
who knows how to simply be present with us
as we go through
what we have to go through.

To bless God
is to draw down the holy
to be present with us. Period.

To bless someone else
is to draw down the holy
to be present with them. Period.

To be blessed
is to know the simple presence of God
is with us. Period.

No rewards.
No commodities acquired.
No recognition or special status achieved.
Simple presence.
The blessedness of simple presence.

That is what blessed means —
Baruch, to draw down the holy
to be present with us.