I had the occasion the other day to come across a passage in the Christian scriptures, namely a brief phrase from one of the four Gospels, which are pronounced by many to be direct accounts of Jesus’ life and ministry … that is, what he said and did during an approximately three year time period.

The phrase comes from one of the most familiar sections in all of the Christian literature, a lengthy passage with a title that many people will recognize: The Sermon on the Mount. In fact, many modern people who don’t actually believe Jesus was and is God, point to this famous speech as remarkable teaching and the basis for all sorts of things, including social justice. “Well, I don’t buy that he was actually God but he really nailed that one!”

In any event, let’s set the stage for what I’d like to share and offer up for extended thought.

In the north of what is now present-day Israel, not far from the southern border of Lebanon and the southwestern border of Syria, lies a large freshwater lake. The occupying Romans called it Tiberias after one of their emperors. The Jews and later Christians called it Galilee, among other names, and termed it a sea. It lies in a bowl, largely surrounded by hillsides and it was on one of those hillsides, overlooking this Sea of Galilee, that Jesus spoke to a group of people who had gathered to hear from a somewhat strange new entrant onto their stage. Some called him Teacher. Some called him Prophet. He was saying some pretty remarkable things they’d never heard before, things seemingly out of context for a very learned Jew … especially for a Rabbi such as Jesus who, by all measures, was well versed in everything Jewish.

I’ve stood on that hillside and I’ve sailed on that inland sea, imagining what actually took place. I don’t think there’s any way around the fact that what transpired there truly changed history.

The first spoken or written words in a thing of great import … think The Declaration of Independence (“When in the course of human events…”), The U.S. Constitution (“We the people…”), the Gettysburg Address (“Four score and seven years ago…”) … usually sink in and are remembered. They set the tone.

The Sermon on the Mount was actually a teaching on things Jesus believed are really important for us to understand and believe. And so he began,

“Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Now, it’s quite a simple thing to nod our heads and go, “Ok, sounds interesting. What’s next?”

But that would be a mistake.

Instead, let’s pause and ask a couple of questions before we just leap ahead. After all, as I said above, this is his opening salvo.

To the casual observer, especially in a modern and secular society without a deeper understanding of his context, it’s quite common to think that what Jesus was saying is that poor people are blessed. And, by presumption rich people are not similarly blessed. After all, he didn’t start the ball rolling with “Blessed are the rich people …”

But, in order to really understand his point (and it’s a big one … even foundational for understanding who Jesus was and why he came), we need to hit the pause button, backtrack and try to understand this new thing Jesus was introducing, namely the concept of being “poor in spirit.”And, and in that same vein, how does that relate to a thing we’re uncertain about which he called “the kingdom of heaven?”

I’m aware that many modern readers interpret this important passage to mean that poor people get the FastPass to heaven. From such a perspective, therefore, God looks much more favorably upon poor people than non-poor people. Kind of like St. Peter, at the pearly gates with that cartoon-drawn line of just-deceased people seeking entry, looking out over the long queue and shouting to some poor soul way back and saying, “hey there, you in the rags, just don’t stand there, come right up here. Now the rest of you, stand aside.”

Is this where Jesus was going with his introductory statement? I think not.

So, let’s look at these two interesting and (at that time) somewhat uncommon phrases.

First, what does he mean by “poor in spirit?”

To answer that, I’m going to give a very rough summary of a bunch of theological mumbo jumbo. But, I believe it cuts to the very essence of the Christian belief system and frames a great deal of how and why Jesus lived and spoke the way he did.

In essence, to be poor in spirit is to be humble and to be humble does not mean to think less of yourself but to think of yourself less.

That deserves repeating: To be humble does not mean to think less of yourself but to think of yourself less. (Tip of the hat to the great Christian pastor and writer, Tim Keller.)

To be humble is to recognize that I am a kind of broken vessel. Whether or not I work hard to mask any semblance of brokenness, I’m not whole. I have problems, fears, anxieties, regrets, shame, guilt.

Now, many modern people glance at this and will automatically think, “you’re talking about other people because I’m basically just fine. Sure I have problems but so does everyone. I manage ok. I work pretty hard and am not abusive to others. I guess, to be honest, I could probably be a better person when you think about it but I’m not a bad person and the term “broken” just doesn’t apply. Broken people are like addicts, alcoholics or drug abusers, or they’ve succumbed to terrible life circumstances. A good example would be some of the people you see begging on street corners or sleeping on the sidewalks of cities. You’re not describing me.”

In contrast to that, take the well-known response of the great late 19^thand early 20^thcentury English journalist, writer, philosopher and literary critic, G.K. Chesterton, when asked by The Times of London not long before the advent of the First World War to address the question of “What’s wrong with the world today?”

He sent in his reply, as the story goes,

“Dear Sirs:

I am.

Sincerely Yours, G.K. Chesterton.”

“I am.” Chesterton was an extremely gifted observer of the larger human condition and of his place in it. He was also a prolific Christian writer, in this instance concisely capturing a crucial element of the Christian framework, while also speaking to the very phrase and concept we’re now examining.

So, what, really, is humility? What does it mean to be “broken?” Why is any of this important or relevant to us today? What was Jesus getting at 2000 years ago and why should we pay attention?

I’ll try to address that next time.