In the practice of Zen Buddhism, there is something called beginner’s mind. It doesn’t mean someone who is just beginning the practice, though. For practitioners of Buddhism, the challenge is to keep that beginner’s mind constantly. It is about keeping an open mind, letting go of preconceptions, practicing the curiosity of a child. Beginner’s mind is a way of life. To have a beginner’s mind is to let go of what you already know so you might learn something new.
Years ago, I spent some time with a Chinese student at the university where I worked. She wanted to practice her English. She wanted to learn about the Christian faith. She came to me knowing nothing about Christianity. She and I agreed to meet up and read the Bible together. It turned out to be an enlightening experience for me.
We began with the gospel, because it seemed to me like the best place to begin for a beginner. We sat at a table and read aloud to each other – stories that were very familiar to me and very strange to her. More than once she stopped, scrunched up her face, and said, “Huh. Why did he say that?” or “Why did he do that?” More than once, she caught me off-balance. She made me see just how strange Jesus was.
You might sometimes think that I say some strange things, or wrong things, or even dangerous things. But know this: I’ve got nothing on Jesus. He was pretty strange. Many people thought he was dead wrong. And make no mistake, he was dangerous.
Over the next few weeks I will be focusing on the Sermon on the Mount, where we have the opportunity to get as close as possible to the authentic Jesus. Biblical scholars believe that these passages are the closest thing we have to his original teachings. This is the historical Jesus.
Matthew places this sermon very early in Jesus’ ministry. So far, he has been baptized by John, gone out into the wilderness to wrestle with his demons for 40 days, then returned to Galilee, where he began to call his disciples. Then he went about performing all kinds of healings and very quickly had a following.
As Matthew says, he saw the crowds who were following him now and he went up the mountain – perhaps to put some breathing space between himself and the people. He sat down. Maybe then he gestured to his disciples, or just looked at them expectantly – not the large crowd, but the smaller group of individuals he had called to follow him on a journey that would take them to new places. They came to him. Then he began to speak to them.
We might imagine ourselves in the place of those beginning disciples as we listen to his words:
“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 receive mercy. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you. (Matthew 5:3-12)
We know that even his disciples had difficulty understanding his meaning, as they gathered around listening to him speak. He contradicted everything that their culture, their religion, taught. He challenged the order by which everything worked.
All societies have a pecking order. In some cultures, it is more pronounced than others. In the ancient middle east it was quite clear. Everyone knew where they stood. Everyone knew what was expected of them. Everyone’s job was to do the right things and be able to stay in their niche, to not lose what you had.
But at the bottom of the pecking order were those who had nothing more to lose. These were the untouchables, the invisibles. These men and women had nothing and no opportunities. They were unemployed and unemployable. The expendable.
These were the souls who had to live by their wits – maybe they stole, maybe they begged. They did whatever they needed to do to survive.
They were, in the Greek, the ptochoi, which we translate here as the poor in spirit. As in,
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are these untouchable, unwanted, forgotten human beings. The homeless, the invisible, the expendable ones who live their lives in a state of utter humility – of pure, raw vulnerability.
To call them blessed, to understand this, takes the mind of a beginner.
Someone – I don’t remember who – recommended a book to me months ago. I added it to my list of books I should read someday. And recently I picked up a bargain bin copy of it and started reading. It’s called True Places. I wish I could remember who recommended it so I can thank them. It has shed some valuable light for me on the beatitudes.
It’s a story about an upper-middle class wife and mother who has a chance encounter with a girl named Iris who has been raised in the wilderness. Some years ago her father disappeared. Later, her mother had an accident and died, so Iris, now 16, has been surviving alone in the woods for three years.
When this woman, Suzanne, finds her she is very, very sick. So Suzanne picks her up and carries her into her SUV and drives her to the hospital, where she leaves her in their care. But Suzanne doesn’t just walk away from her. She returns again and again to visit her, to be a familiar face, a comforting presence.
And as Iris heals, the hospital staff is faced with the problem of figuring out where she will go next. Suzanne and her husband decide to take her home, to foster her until a family member can be found. But here is where the story gets complicated. The transition to their home turns out to be anything but easy.
Bringing Iris into their big luxurious home is a shock to her. She is confused by everything. She reacts badly to many things the family takes for granted. But it is not only shocking to Iris, it is upsetting to the family as well.
Suzanne finds that she is infected by Iris’s reactions – her beginner’s mind, you might say. Suzanne begins to see her life from a different perspective – from an outsider’s perspective.
I think that is what Jesus wants from us: to begin to see our lives, the world we live in, from a different perspective.
Jesus wants us, who have everything, to take the perspective of those who have nothing.
Why? Not to pity them. Not to feel guilty. Not for any reason except this: we can’t know what we could have as long as our vision is clouded by all we do have. And when I speak of all that we have I am referring not only to material possessions, but also all the other things we covet and strive for, like respect, admiration, independence.
These are the things our culture tells us are valuable. We go chasing after the things our culture says will make us complete. But they don’t make us complete. And so we find that we need more and more of what doesn’t work. When you are reaching for what doesn’t fill you, there is not enough. There never will be enough.
In the story, True Places, this family, like so many, lives by the guiding principle “we’re not quite there yet.” They need more money, a bigger house, more popularity, more success, more expensive stuff. The daughter affectionately talks about her dad’s work as “shaking the money tree.” The dad lusts after a bigger house, more powerful friends, greater success, a higher spot on the totem pole. In this home there is a whole lot of everything but there is no real contentment, no peace, no joy. There is not enough.
When Iris comes to live with them, her presence is disturbing because it threatens to lift the veil from their eyes and force them to see. Without doing anything, she disrupts their foundation.
Which is what Jesus did – and does.
And what do we do when Jesus threatens to disrupt our foundation? We might reinterpret his words in a more comfortable way. Or we might consign them to the dustbins of history – another time, another world, doesn’t apply to us anymore. But instead of softening his edges or shelving his words, we would benefit from listening to what he said, and looking at what he did: Approach the untouchables, speak to the invisibles, break bread with the expendables.
And ask ourselves, like the Chinese student did, “Why did he do that?”
Why did he do that? To help us break free.
May our minds and hearts be opened to see things from the perspective of one of these poor ones. Then to truly see what Jesus is offering us.
