Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Luke 6:17,20–26
I gave up coffee for Lent—not last Lent, but this upcoming Lent. I went from drinking two pots a day to nothing—zero cups. I’m already in week three of my coffee fast and have no plans to return. You might be wondering why I started my Lenten preparation so early. Let me explain.
For starters, I am extreme and crazy. But also, I love a good interior challenge. Denying myself just for the fun of it is my love language. I want to be sure my passions do not rule me. I panic to think that I cannot survive without this or that. So every day, I say “no” to something: my fuzzy socks on a cold morning, crumbled feta cheese on my salad, having the last word. It’s good practice when the goal is to detach from the possessions your heart absorbs—to remove what threatens your utter and complete dependence on God.
For fear you think me holier than I am, read on.
Feeling proud of my coffee victory, the Lord did what all good fathers do to the prideful: He corrected, humiliated, and set me straight, reminding me that He rules my life; He is my guide, not the other way around. How so? He chose what I needed to detach from. Within 48 hours, one of my chickens fell ill, the downstairs bathroom sink wouldn’t drain, the washing machine broke, and my son’s Jeep died…for good. And all this happened with an ice storm looming and my husband 2,000 miles away.
If you’re wondering how well I have handled this, I’m considering tearing my shirt off and legally changing my name to Job. Fear and despair are real.
But so is God.
In His perfect timing, tomorrow’s gospel is about the beatitudes. As a young girl, I was taught that these are a “recipe for happiness,” but as an adult, I have recognized that they are so much more. They are a formula for detachment.
Luke writes, “Blessed are you who are poor, for the kingdom of God is yours” (Luke 6:20), but I prefer Matthew’s translation: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:3).
What does it mean to be blessed?
What does it mean to be poor in spirit?
The Greek word for “blessed” is makarios. It means truly happy, the kind of happiness that can only be found in a relationship with God, in our utter dependence on Him, no matter if the chicken, Jeep, or washing machine dies. “Blessed” is one of those spiritual words we tend to overly use, throwing a hashtag in front of or painting on shiplap and resting on our mantles. We use it to express our good fortune, abundant riches, good health, and an easy road. But blessed isn’t the absence of suffering. According to Jesus, it’s a requirement. Blessed are the hungry, the weeping, the hated, and the persecuted. It’s these that are promised satisfaction, laughter, and the kingdom of God. It’s the royal road to Calvary that paves the sure path to heaven. If this sounds shocking, look at the cross. If this is too counter-cultural, well—you’re right.
You can pretty much bet that anything that comes out of the mouth of Jesus is not going to align with what comes out of the mouth of the world. We live in secular, self-centered times, where self-determination and the ability to run our lives according to our plan are applauded. We hold the reins, are in control, and manifest our future not because we are evil but because we desperately want to be happy. Happiness is the deepest longing of our hearts. God knows this, and when He sees us searching for it in poor substitutes—wealth, pleasure, honor, power—He steps in, severs the threads, and takes away what has taken His place. Suffering is not meant to take us down but to rise above, to draw us in, and to place us on the path of eternal happiness. The truth is, the less we have, the more free we feel.
It is okay to have riches, so long as they stay out of our hearts. “He is poor in spirit,” writes Saint Francis de Sales, “who has not riches in his heart, nor his heart in riches.” He continues: “Even so should your heart be open only to Heaven and impenetrable to riches and earthly things; if you possess them preserve your heart from loving them, let it rise above them, and be poor in the midst of wealth, and master its riches.”[1] In other words, it’s not about your wallet but your heart.
In the Walking with Purpose Bible study Opening Your Heart: The Starting Point, author Lisa Brenninkmeyer writes, “The alternative to denying yourself and following Christ is saying, 'I’ll follow Jesus when it’s comfortable.'”[2] This stung when I read it because it is what I have been doing. Why haven’t I missed my coffee? Because, in full transparency, I filled the void with tea—not just any tea, but loose-leaf, organic peppermint tea. I found a cute health-food shop and bought all the accessories to ensure that my tea-drinking experience would be far superior to coffee; my brain would hardly miss it. I would be comfortable. But that’s not the point of detachment, is it? Look, God doesn't have a problem with me drinking hot beverages. He doesn’t have a problem with whether I enjoy my new brewing mug or infuser. But woe to me, who believes it is enough to fill the void and satisfy; woe to me when I take greater delight in it than in Him.
Food for thought or journaling…
Saint Francis de Sales writes, “For nothing so well tells our love for what we lose, as our grief for its loss.” With this in mind, ask yourself: What would I grieve if it was taken away?
Heavenly Father, You call us blessed who suffer on earth, and while it is so crazy and backward, all I need to do is to look back on past trials, and see You. Your presence. Your care. You do Your best work when I come to the end of myself: when I open my heart and let You lead. Teach me to stop making excuses when I catch myself searching for more. Help me to detach from anything that does not draw me into a deeper union with You. Make me poor in spirit, so I will not despair in difficult times but rejoice and leap for joy, knowing my reward is great in heaven.
P.S. Hey, friend! Grab a copy of Opening Your Heart: The Starting Point if you want to grow in your interior life. Have you already done the study? Me too. Five times! It never grows old! I especially love Lesson 15: What is the Role of Suffering in My Life and Lesson 19: What Challenges Will I Face in My Efforts to Follow Jesus More Closely.
[1] Saint Francis de Sales, An Introduction to the Devout Life, (TAN Books, 2010), p. 165.
[2] Lisa Brenninkmeyer, Opening Your Heart: The Starting Point, (Walking with Purpose, 2008-2015), 222.