BY JENNIFER JILL SCHWIRZER

E DIDN'T MIND DRIVING THE jalopy. It sported several unique features, such as a screwdriver-manipulated starter, a log for a parking brake, and a wadded plastic bag gas cap. In our eyes the car had character, humor, and pizzazz. But when we saw it through the eyes of some wealthy relatives we were visiting, everything changed. I remember how we reluctantly pulled off Florida's I-75, weaving in and out of shiny BMWs and Corvettes, humming the theme song to The Beverly Hillbillies under our breath to help laugh away some of the pain. Chugging past manicured golf courses and splendid mansions, we entered the gated community and tried to act as if we fit in. This worked until some of the relatives spotted the car. Suddenly we felt the urge to introduce ourselves as Mr. and Mrs. Jed Clampett.

The most trying aspect of poverty is the sense of isolation. Humans naturally compare themselves to one another, which brings an acute sense of shame to those who don't measure up. Garth Brooks attempted to throw off the burden of marginal living by celebrating lowbrowhood in the song "Friends in Low Places." He failed to convince me, given the fact that he was a multimillionaire when the song hit the charts, but at least I myself can sing it with conviction. I know what it is to stick out like a poor thumb among poised diamond-clad pinkies.

How much more acute is the sense of isolation one feels when one is singled out because of spiritual poverty? Like a bum at a black-tie affair, our self-justifying rags appear filthy in the chandelier light of heaven. A full encounter with the Holy Spirit somehow circumvents our ability to comfort ourselves with the thought that we haven't fallen as low as others. Spirit-sharpened vision pierces through the outward actions to the inward motives. Suddenly we know the gut sensation that we are the most sin-laden scoundrel of all, corrupt right down to the molecules.

In His Holiness
Apostles and prophets have ever expressed this sense of consternation when coming into full encounter with the holiness of God:

Isaiah lamented, "Woe is me, for I am ruined! Because I am a man of unclean lips" (Isa. 6:5, NASB).

Peter cried, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord" (Luke 5:8, NKJV).

Ellen White brooded, "It seemed to me that my doom was fixed, that the Spirit of the Lord had left me, never to return."¹

Why all this guilt and shame? We are relatively decent people! Aren't those feelings better suited for the truly wicked? Consider, for instance, the infamous Ted Bundy, who violated, then murdered, at least 30 women before he was executed by electric chair January 24, 1989. He snatched his last victim--a 12-year-old girl--from a playground before he sexually assaulted her, killed her, and threw her body into a pigsty. Understandably, Bundy's repentance and conversion, and subsequent interview with James Dobson, were greeted with cynicism and doubt. Crowds outside the prison carried signs saying "Burn, Bundy, Burn" and "You're Dead, Ted."

In today's climate of pop psychology we often grope for some causative factor in the home life of one who turns so bad. Yet Ted Bundy "grew up in a wonderful home with two dedicated and loving parents." The home was smoke- and alcohol-free, and the family attended church. It was through long-term exposure to harder and harder forms of pornography that Bundy finally craved the stronger stimulus of a "physical event." After a time of battling his own inbred inhibitions against violent behavior, he finally threw caution to the wind and committed his first murder.²

Bankrupt, Yet Fortunate
Socially speaking, there may be no similarity between ourselves and Ted Bundy. Yet at our core we possess the same capacity to wed ourselves to vice, seeking stronger and stronger forms until overmastering passion controls us. Our police record may be pristine in contrast to a death-row criminal, but the dazzling light of God's law of love reveals even the best of us to possess a moral plague spot altogether rotten and dark. That plague spot is sinful human nature and its unlimited potential for evil. When the contrast between our sin and God's perfection removes the potential for triumphing in our outward superiority to others, we can finally admit we have no righteousness of our own. We are spiritually, morally, and socially bankrupt. We are poor in spirit.

Even in affluent North America, where few want for the necessities of life, many suffer from a spiritual poverty that brings sorrow beyond words. An estimated 30 million Americans spanning the socioeconomic spectrum suffer from depressive disorders.³ The world's frenzied rush for pleasure and pride only mocks the inward ache of a discouraged heart. Yet in the context of eternity these depleted souls are at an advantage. Jesus said that the poor in spirit are "blessed."

A little Greek study peels back another layer on Jesus' meaning. "Blessed," or makarioi, literally means "fortunate," and "poor," or ptochos, means "cowering," as one in deep desperation. This makes Jesus' statement a seemingly senseless contradiction. He was essentially saying, "Fortunate are the unfortunate." These statements that offend every fiber of our worldly-wise logic are biblical paradoxes. "But a natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him; and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually appraised" (1 Cor. 2:14, NASB). How can someone be blessed when they are unblessed? In what sense can depressed, discouraged people be considered fortunate? Jesus gives the answer in the same breath: "for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

Is God operating on a merit system here, searching for broken people so that He can reward them with heaven? Or is He simply stating the fact that broken people are the only ones willing to receive the Gift that He gives to all? The answer lies in the fact that "God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son" (John 3:16, NASB). God gave Jesus to the world, and in that Son came "every spiritual blessing," including the kingdom of heaven (Eph. 1:3, NASB). While there is nothing we can do to merit those blessings, there is something we can do to make them our own. We can receive them. And we will choose to receive them only if we see our need of them. God is not interested in some kind of counterculture that approves of the marginalized in order to spite the conventional. He is not racking up points for the admittedly unrighteous as if they are champions of virtue simply for claiming none. Rather, only those in whom self-righteousness has vacated have room for the righteousness of Christ. It's not that God is doling out prizes for being empty--it's that only the empty vessel has room for the prize.

Are you empty? Are you poor? If you aren't, you'd better get that way, or you will push the blessing of Christ's righ-teousness right out of your life. If you have trouble sensing your soul poverty, why not attend a gala ball where the holiness of God will be in attendance? Travel on your knees to this affair, and socialize with the prophets and apostles in the Word. In the illustrious company of holy beings you will suddenly look down upon your own grimy garments and notice every stain. Then and only then will you be poor enough to receive God's riches.
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¹ Ellen G. White, Early Writings (Washington, D.C.: Review and Herald Pub. Assn., 1882), p. 79.
² James Dobson, Life on the Edge (Nashville: Word Publishing, 1995).
³ Aileen Ludington, M.D., and Hans Diehl, Dr. H. Sc., Health Power (Hagerstown, Md.: Review and Herald Pub. Assn., 2000), p. 220.
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Jennifer Jill Schwirzer, wife, mother, author, songwriter, and musician, writes from Wyndmoor, Pennsylvania.

BY ED CHRISTIAN

od especially loves those who, spiritually speaking, feel themselves to be utterly helpless and worthless beggars-they will be in heaven" (Matt. 5:3, paraphrased).

When you think of the "poor in spirit," imagine a street person-filthy, stinking, flinching at your gaze, yet afraid that you too will turn away-a creature once human, but no longer seeming entirely so; a creature more accustomed to kicks and curses than to blessings and gifts.

"Poor in spirit." Ptochoi to pneumati in Greek. This isn't the usual Greek word for "poor." Vine writes that ptochos was "an adjective describing one who crouches and cowers." Can you see it in your head? This adjective that would well describe the fearful, cowering stance of a starving stray dog eventually came to be used as a noun, a synonym of the word "beggar." From there it became a synonym of the more general word "poor," even though most of the poor do not beg.¹

"Blessed are the poor in spirit."

Those With Ears
To most of us the Beatitudes are somewhat curious blessings. To some of us, though, they are the best news we have ever heard. Jesus' audience would have been similarly divided.

A few might have realized that in the Beatitudes Jesus was deliberately declaring the beginning of the fulfillment of the Messianic and eschatological (end-time) prophecy of Isaiah 61:1-3. These are the same words Jesus read in the synagogue in Luke 4:18, 19.²

The Messiah had come! The end was at hand! The kingdom of heaven was now present in their midst! Jesus was flinging open the prison doors! But Jesus couched this good news in beatitudes, so only those with ears heard (Matt 13:11-17).

The word "blessed" in the Beatitudes does not mean "happy" in the modern sense of the word. It means "singularly favored by God."³ The "poor in spirit" do not usually consider themselves "singularly favored by God."

Even though the phrase "theirs is the kingdom of heaven" is in the present tense in the Greek, most of the Beatitudes are in the future tense. Probably this one is in the present tense to stress the certainty of its coming true. Jesus used this technique often.

Jesus was not the only one to recognize that meekness and poverty of spirit predisposed people to accepting God's will for them. The rabbis also taught this.⁴ "To be poor in spirit is not to lack courage but to acknowledge spiritual bankruptcy. It confesses one's unworthiness before God and utter dependence on him."⁵

When Luke repeats this beatitude (Luke 6:20), he has Jesus refer only to "the poor," rather than to "the poor in spirit." However, D. A. Carson tells us that even in Isaiah's time people saw a relation between poverty and poverty of spirit. Several times in Isaiah "the poor" is a metaphor for "the poor in spirit." Thus, the argument some make-that Jesus really meant only the poor and that the spiritual application was added later-is not sound.

In Today's Terms
What might "Blessed are the poor in spirit" mean in today's terms? Looking at some extreme and perhaps offensive modern applications may help us understand the shocking nature of Jesus' claims in His own day.

Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed is the woman who, tormented to insanity by postpartum depression, exhaustion, too many children, and fanaticism, drowned her children and now sits in prison. Society may never forgive her, and she may never forgive herself, but God knows her heart better than even she does and is eager to show mercy, even if she isn't sure mercy is available to her. She need only ask.

Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed is the Adventist pastor in Rwanda who, if reports are true, led Hutu soldiers to a church in which thousands of Tutsis were hiding. He knew they would be massacred! How can he dare ask for mercy? Yet even though he will die in prison, God is willing to show him mercy. (His son Eliel was my friend when I worked in Rwanda a quarter century ago.)

And blessed are those thousands who cowered and begged in church as their murderers hacked them to death. Some were my friends or people I'd treated in the hospital. They were killed in the church in which I had worshiped.

Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed is the priest whose ordination has been revoked and whose world has collapsed because he has been accused of abusing an altar boy 30 years ago. He is so miserable, so utterly humiliated, so filled with shame as he sees his years of service disintegrate before his eyes. He longs to curl up and die. But God is merciful, so his is the kingdom of heaven.

And blessed are all those whose lives have been destroyed by people they trusted. They may never trust anyone again in this life, even God, yet if they cry out for help, theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed are those filled with remorse and self-hatred because they aborted their unborn babies. God will show them mercy.

Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed was my Chinese friend Moses during the two decades he spent in prison for his faith, and blessed was he when, after his release, he was assigned the job of feeding cows and shoveling manure. Blessed is he now as he brings hundreds to Christ through his humble service.

Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed are all those who have devoted their lives to keeping God's laws, only to finally resign themselves to the realization that despite their effort, their "righteousness" is still about as clean as a rag used as a menstrual pad (the literal meaning of "filthy rags" in Isaiah 64:6).

Blessed are those who have lost their homes, their cars, their jobs, their families, and their friends. Blessed are those standing in line for food stamps and those filled with embarrassment when they have to use them. Blessed are those who have to give away children they can't afford to feed.

Blessed are those who find it impossible to fall in love with God as a Father because their own fathers betrayed them and destroyed their ability to trust. God knows their crippled hearts.

Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed are those who feel intimidated by would-be scholars in Sabbath school class and get squelched whenever they try to say something. Blessed are those who find theological arguments confusing but manage to croak, "Lord, be merciful to me a sinner."

Blessed are those who have hit rock bottom and have been there so long they can't even imagine coming up again. Blessed are those who have known inferiority, prejudice, and discrimination all their lives and who see their children being wounded by the same ugly world.

Blessed are the depressed, the obsessed, the compulsive, the confused, the challenged, and the forgetful. Blessed are those suffering from intractable pain or from chronic fatigue, those who fear they may never again experience a normal day. Theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who have given up a lifetime of belongings, books, and photos, and entered a nursing home, left only with memories of children grown and loved ones passed on.

There is so often a close connection between those who are poor or suffering and those who are spiritual beggars that we do well to consider them together. However, we mustn't forget that even the well-to-do can find themselves spiritually needy.

Spiritual need, spiritual bankruptcy, is often a preliminary to total surrender to God and spiritual rebirth into a life of righteousness and holiness-a foretaste on earth of heaven.

May we all meet together in heaven someday.

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¹ W. E. Vine, "Beg," Vine's Expository Dictionary of New Testament Words.
² Luke leaves out, perhaps for rhetorical reasons, the last half of verse 2 and all of verse 3, which refer to mourning and righteousness.
³ D. A. Carson, commentary on Matthew, in Expositor's Bible Commentary, ed. Frank E. Gaebelein (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1984), p. 131.
⁴ Ibid.
⁵ Ibid., p. 132.

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Ed Christian teaches English and biblical literature at Kutztown University of Pennsylvania. His latest book, Joyful Noise: A Sensible Look at Christian Music, is available from Review and Herald Publishing Association.