In the opening prayer, the “Collect” that is given to us by the Church, we prayed, “Be my protector, O Lord…” And this seems to go perfect with these readings for today.
An image that I have been thinking about this week in regards to this “protection” from God is an umbrella. An umbrella keeps us protected from the rain, or the sun, when we stay in the center of it.
Sometimes we move to the edges, sometimes others move us out of the umbrella of protection, sometimes we choose to leave it behind, but for the most part we try to keep in that center “sweet spot” of protection from the elements of the world.
Today’s readings describe what it is like to be in the center and to move outside that umbrella. In our first reading, “moving outside” was described as “trusting in human beings.” It said, “Cursed is the one who trusts in human beings, who seeks his strength in flesh, whose heart turns away from the LORD.”
But then describing the center of protection it says, “Blessed is the one who trusts in the LORD, whose hope is the LORD.” Trust, or love, of the Lord keeps us hoping in God for everything, which keeps us protected.
Then in Luke’s version of the Beatitudes, we find a concise presentation of what the view from the center is like. First we are told, “Blessed are you who are poor.” We notice that there is no softening like Matthew’s version of the beatitudes which said “poor in spirit” but Luke’s is a simple and straightforward statement of the blessedness of being poor.
How do we interpret what seems on the surface to be a glorification of economic poverty? Let me propose the following reading: "How lucky you are if you are not addicted to material things."
One of the classic substitutes for God is material wealth, the accumulating of "things.” Like any drug, houses, cars, and property provide a "rush" when they first enter the system, but then in time, the thrill that they provide wears off, and more of the drug must be acquired.
This rhythm continues tragically until the addict is broken by it. How "unlucky" for those who are tied up in such a net, and how necessary that they find detachment.
Luke’s Beatitudes continue with "Blessed are you who weep now." Again, we are struck by the oddness of the claim: how fortunate you are if you display the outward sign of greatest anxiety and depression.
Might we translate it this way, “How lucky you are if you are not addicted to good feelings." We live in a culture that puts a premium on good feelings and attempts to deny or medicate depression. But feeling happy is just as much a false god as wealth or power.
It is, in itself, only an emotional state, a fleeting and insubstantial psychological condition that cannot possibly satisfy the deepest yearning of the soul; yet is sought with as much compulsive frenzy as any other drug.
We feel the "rush" of pleasure and then, when the thrill fades, we try at all costs to reproduce it at a higher pitch. It is in this context that the addictive use of drugs, alcohol, and artificial stimulants, as well as the hedonistic pursuit of pleasure in sex and at the table, are to be understood. The person who lives in the center, the place of detachment, escapes this trap.
Jesus continues: "Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man."
What could be stranger than this seemingly painful desire? Again, some light might be shed if we translate it in terms of our hermeneutic of detachment: "How lucky you are if you are not addicted to the approval of others."
Status, attention, and fame are among the most powerful and insinuating of the false gods who lure us. But we cannot get enough of what we don’t really need.
When I was a child, I reveled in the praise that my parents offered me because of my work. But in time the thrill of that esteem wore off and I sought greater approval—first from my high school teachers, then from my college professors, and finally from my bosses.
Each time I heard a word of praise, I felt the rush of the “drug,” but it was never enough. My life had become an unceasing quest for applause; I was trapped in the familiar pattern, needing approval as desperately as my body needed food and water.
Jesus told his disciples: "Woe to you when all speak well of you," and Winston Churchill said, "Never trust a man who has no enemies." The “one whom everyone loves” is in spiritual distress, since the goodwill of the crowd has undoubtedly become that person's idol.
As so many of the saints and Jesus himself witness, the path of spiritual freedom brings one almost inevitably into conflict with those who are still in chains. Those who have placed themselves in the Christ-center rest secure even as the approval of the fickle crowd waxes and wanes.
The freedom and fullness of detachment is ultimately to grasp only the one thing at the center, holding on to Jesus Christ like the handle of the umbrella. This, afterall, is our destiny, to be united with Him in Heaven, so we start the practice of that now on earth.
What do we hold on to so tightly, more than anything else? If it isn’t Jesus, it’s time to let go. He is our mighty stronghold and our true protection for everything we encounter in the world.