New Year Resolutions: The Beatitudes?

 They may not qualify as resolutions, but the Beatitudes invite us to radical living in a New Year

Thinking about New Year resolutions, I somehow leap to the Beatitudes, that list of eight striking "blessings" or "attitudes" (or whatever they are) that Matthew 5:1-12 attributes to Jesus in what is called the Sermon the Mount.

I mull over whether or not the Beatitudes qualify as resolutions. I don't think they do, per se, but the New Year certainly offers an opportunity to consider embracing their challenges as an invitation to radical living.

Here are the Beatitudes:

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

A few reflections as I think about the Beatitudes in light of New Year resolutions:

1. They go to the heart of what Jesus said and lived.

2. A Beatitude seems likely to be considered a "blessing" only when we have lived through the tough circumstances to which it is a gracious response.  When we respond in Beatitude responses, we will know we have embraced them.

3. The Beatitudes are radical. They connect to the deepest human passions and life circumstances. They point to gut-wrenching realities of life: poverty and emptiness, loss and grieving, powerlessness and social contempt, spiritual hunger and yearning for right to prevail (justice), seeing needy persons being treated unjustly and neglected, bitter division and violence, religious persecution, insults, gossip, and false accusations.  It seems to me that only grace can conceive of and make possible the radical outlook and actions described in the Beatitudes.

4. It is typical to learn the Beatitudes—to have memorized them and be able to quote them. This is often as far as it goes in Christian catechism or Sunday School. But, like the Ten Commandments or the Lord’s Prayer, familiarity does not mean we understand them or joyfully cultivate them as a heart and life orientation. Compliant and eager to be an ideal Christian as I was as a child, I remember questioning the practical expression of most of the Beatitudes. It was easier to just recite them and keep them as stained glass phrases. As I have continued to revisit them, my understanding and appreciation has increased, but they are no less challenging five decades later. 

5. The Beatitudes run counter to American machismo and status quo. They unsettle presumptions of consumer Christianity. On the surface, the Beatitudes seem to be a set-up for certain failure in a society that apparently rewards rugged individualism, conformity to sameness, upward mobility, the appearance of mental or physical toughness, and a thoroughly materialistic and self-indulging orientation to value and action. Dig deeper in the Beatitudes and it gets increasingly difficult to straddle kingdoms. What emerges is that Jesus actually declares people blessed whom Western civilization has over two millennia come to despise or disparage. Jesus’ life in word and action is, in one way or another, verification that his is an upside down kingdom, an invitation to downward mobility, and an lifting up of all who sorrow, who are relegated to the margins.

6. Finally, the Beatitudes call for what Brennan Manning called “ruthless trust.” Because the blessedness or results described in the Beatitudes seem so far-fetched or distant, they call for ruthless trust in the invitation, worldview, Kingdom order, and certain future Jesus describes. As Manning puts it: “Faith in the person of Jesus and hope in his promise means that his voice, echoing and alive in the Gospels, has supreme and sovereign authority over our lives.” Does it get any more radical than that?

It seems appropriate to consider the Beatitudes on the first day of the New Year. While we wish each other a Happy New Year, we might do better to offer each other a prayer for Beatitude grace. May we exercise the ruthless trust to see them come to fruition in our hearts, lives, and world.

John Franklin Hay

Last to Arrive?

 Shall we take our place among the unlikely visitors at a stable in Bethlehem?

At the end of the Christmas season and on Epiphany (January 6 marks the visit of the Magi and Light to all people), I think about the continuing, unusual draw of unlikely people to an unlikely place in the heart—Bethlehem—and I offer the following poem:

First, census-compelled throngs

swell the local populace,

burgeoning homes and hostels

with not-so-welcome guests.

Then, a man and pregnant young woman

arrive, seeking vainly for a room.

Bedding down in a stable,

their boy is born among livestock.

Later in the night, gnarled shepherds

traipse in, finding their way

to the mangered newborn,

just as an angel had told them.

How much later we do not know, Magi

come with gracious gifts,

following a star that draws them

from beyond any traceable map.

And later still, from the four corners

of earth and time, we make our trek.

Are we the last to arrive

at the gathering in Bethlehem?

Years from now, until the end of ages,

more will be drawn and find the One

whose birth angels once proclaimed

and so shall forevermore.

Thanksgiving

This holiday is for all that we
Take for granted,
Assume as a given,
Absent-mindedly overlook,
Claim as our God-given right.

This holiday if for all those we
Unnecessarily criticize,
Agitate with our demands,
Impatiently rush,
Regularly impose upon.

This holiday is for all that we
By-pass in our drivenness,
Go out of our way to avoid,
Carelessly forget,
Thoughtlessly leave out.

This holiday is for all things we
Receive as gracious gifts,
Share as common ground,
Express as transcendent grace,
Return in praise to God.



John Franklin Hay 
Indianapolis, Indiana, USA

www.johnfranklinhay.blogspot.com

@johnfranklinhay@threads.net

Instagram.com/johnfranklinhay

Halloween Draws Near

 

Halloween draws near.

Spooks prepare,

Fiends are giddy

For the haul they’ll make.

Cautious guardians

Tame the gore—

Go for cutesy

Over alarming.

What is Superman

To the lore

Of walking dead

And restless demons?

Why Wonder Woman

When vampires

Swoop low, lurk near,

Searching tender veins?

The evening calls for

Fright and fear

And ghastly tricks

Stemmed alone by treats.

Dare to scare each house.

Strike cold fear.

Intimidate.

Demand sweet payoff.

Do not Trick or Treat

With sweetness

In cute costumes.

No! Command ransom!

Let consequences

Threaten all

Who choose to hide

Behind darkened doors.

And let ghouls enjoy

Their bounty,

Sweets transforming

Gaunted into saints.

For another year

Evil’s tide

May be staved by

Happy Halloween!

John Franklin Hay
Indianapolis, Indiana, USA 
www.johnfranklinhay.blogspot.com

www.twitter.com/indybikehiker 
indybikehiker@gmail.com

On the Brink of Autumn

 

I love autumn. I'm always looking for writings and poetry about the season. I've found quite a few that I've shared on my blogs over the years.

I penned the following poem in 2006 and I've posted it just about every fall since. It's my personal celebration of this season and my nudge to every reader to embrace its possibilities.


On the brink of autumn,
A hint of chill in the air,
The sun’s setting sooner,
In a few days we’ll be there


Where green turns to golden
And reapers harvest the yield,
Where dry leaves are falling
And flocking fowl arc the fields.


Then we’ll don our jackets
And brace ourselves for the wind
That rustles through branches
And billows our souls again.


Do not shrink back from fall;
Embrace this gilded season
As a grace that descends;
A gift to all from heaven.


It’s time for returning,
For in-bringing and burning,
For heart walks in deep woods,
For distilling, discerning.


What’s muddled becomes clear
And all chaff’s left exposed
As autumn’s sun glows bright
And a harvest moon shines cold.


We may shed pretenses
And travel a lighter way
Our hearts as crisp as leaves
That lift, then sail away.


As we are being turned,
Turn: facing all the changes—
The falling, the cooling,
And the encroaching darkness.


Lean into the season
Lest it overtake your way.
Let your soul be opened;
Relish its gift this fall day.


John Franklin Hay 
Indianapolis, Indiana, USA 

Bicycling’s Unjust Risks Must Be Addressed

 I’ve been riding a bicycle in the margins, along the gutters and on the side shoulders in fear of multi-ton vehicles and distracted drivers all my adult life.

Most of the time, as I pedal my bike as an urban commuter and cross-country adventurer, I feel like a sitting duck (and, as such, I identify with folks who live with raw vulnerabilities to forces that can instantly destroy one’s life).

It’s not right. It’s not just. We can do much better.

Public roadways belong to everyone. Safe public mobility is everyone’s right. 

It’s way past time for investment of our tax dollars to change to include pedestrians and cyclists as an equal consideration in all transportation planning. 

To policy makers: you are responsible. We are watching and voting. Will you seek our input? 

To all: be a pedestrian/safe cycling advocate every chance you get. Start by slowing down, giving space, making room on the road. Go beyond. Insist on inclusive, safe mobility commitments for all elected public servants and those who serve in public bureaus/departments.

I do not own a motor vehicle. My bicycle is how I get where I need to go. I’m out there. I’m vulnerable. I’m counting on you.

Addedendum: shout out to my State Senator Andrea Hunley for her advocacy for inclusive mobility in the Indiana State Legislature. Thank you, neighbor!

To Love or Not Love the World

Recovering from a Malformed View of the World took Time

At age six, I understood why I couldn’t see ‘Mary Poppins’ in the theatre. I already knew the Fundamental Evangelical mantra: the world was evil, Hollywood and movies were the epitome of “the world,” and the Bible says “love not the world, neither anything that is in the world.” 

But I kinda liked the world. ‘Mary Poppins’ seemed good to me.

From childhood, I was taught to loathe the world and shun anything “worldly.” This was the holiness church ghetto in which I lived. It would take me years to understand that this was not normal, a deformation of a healthy worldview with a skewed moral compass.

Eventually, through some tepid—and some quite insanely risky—forays into “worldliness,” I came to appreciate, respect, regard, live in and caringly critique “the world” in which I reside as a fallen, fallible, striving neighbor.

Through encounters with authentic and loving “worldly” neighbors—those whose genuine goodness defied/defies my malformed Fundamental Evangelical moral and metaphysical constructs—I have come to embrace this world, my neighbors and my responsible role in this world as what matters most.

Greater than the warning to “love not the world” is the radical admonition of Jesus to “love your neighbor as yourself.” As we do so, the way of the hoped-for future for the world opens before us.