Matthew | Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

The Earth Belongs to Those who Take Time to Enjoy It

Part II of my extended meditation on The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth. Here’s Part I.

Do the meek really inherit the earth?

“The earth,” or την γην, ten gen, to the Jewish mind signified the beloved land, Eretz Israel, the promised, longed-for land of Canaan. It was used “as a proverbial expression to denote any great blessing, perhaps as the sum of all blessings,” (Barnes’ Notes on the Bible). So the meek inherit it all, the whole enchilada.

Indeed, some Bible commentaries suggest that meekness contributes to success, even economic success. And I believe this paradox is true!

The value of meekness, even in regard to worldly property and success in life, is often exhibited in the Scriptures. It is also seen in common life that a meek, patient, mild man is the most prospered. An impatient and quarrelsome man raises up enemies; often loses property in lawsuits; spends his time in disputes and broils rather than in sober, honest industry; and is harassed, vexed, and unsuccessful in all that he does. Barnes’ Notes on the Bible.

“These meek ones are happy, even in this world. Meekness promotes wealth, comfort, and safety, even in this world.” Matthew Henry’s Commentary.

Hmm… Are there other benefits of meekness?

Meekness produces peace. It is proof of true greatness of soul. It comes from a heart too great to be moved by little insults. He that is constantly ruffled; that suffers every little insult or injury to throw him off his guard and to raise a storm of passion within, is at the mercy of every mortal that chooses to disturb him. He is like “the troubled sea that cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt.” Barnes’ Notes on the Bible

Meekness is essential for marital harmony and long continued friendships. A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger, Prov. 15:1. I look back and wonder how many of our marital quarrels could have been averted by a mild answer? How many friendships would I have saved?

And Even Fairy Tales Sing It: The Meek Inherit the Earth

The deep wish, or the deep truth, that the meek inherit the earth is embedded in myth and fairy tale: think of Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White or Psyche.

In Scripture, in fairy tales and in real life, there is a special favour and protection extended to the youngest, who is generally the meekest, the gentlest, the least powerful, the most innocent, and the most in need of protection. Kindness to the meek comes instinctively to most human beings and is encoded in our natures (though not in everyone’s: there are bullies, among Christians as well as non-Christians).

In fact, the Earth belongs to those who have time for it

Isaiah saw the Lord, high and lifted up, while the seraphim flew around him and cried, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory.”

It throbs with it. It sings with it.

And to whom does this glorious earth belong?

Not to those who own hundreds of its acres but lack the time to step out in them.

Not to those who are so preoccupied with acquiring or maintaining their possessions that they have no time to enjoy in the great simple gifts given unasked: sunrise and sunset, maples blazing in autumn, the moon sailing through winter skies, daffodils and bluebells in spring, and late summer evenings, when the world is golden.

The earth belongs to those who have the time to enjoy it.

It’s not necessary to own land to enjoy it; you just need to be out in it, with a quiet heart, not one anxious or distracted.

The earth belongs to those who have time for it: to observe it, admire it, love it, and walk out on it.

The earth belongs to those whose heart is calm and stilled so they are able to slow down and appreciate the beauty of the earth, the ever-changing canvas of the skies, which, day by day, hour by hour, silently proclaims the glory of God.

And, mysteriously, Scripture tells us that the meek will inherit this earth. In a way we do not understand, it will be given to them.

* * *

The meek inherit the earth is one of Jesus’s apparently lunatic propositions like “Give and you shall receive, full measure, pressed down, flowing over.”

What kind of math is this? Addition by subtraction, gaining by losing, cracking yourself open like a grain of wheat to gain a mighty harvest.

It is the mysterious mathematics of the Kingdom of God, in which everything happens because of the X Factor, the secret power of God.

And that is the only way these paradoxes work: that in giving, we receive full measure; and that one might be mild and gentle, and still “inherit the earth.”

Religious people are sometimes accused of checking their brains by the front door. In this case, yes, I guess I am doing it.

I am taking it on faith that the meek inherit the earth because Jesus says they do, and whenever I have experimented with his words I have discovered that he is, indeed, absolutely right.

Read Part III here.

An excerpt from my ebook and paperback The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth available on kindle and paperback on

Amazon UK

Amazon.com

The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth

By Anita Mathias

I looked at the programme for “The Greenbelt Festival: Where Faith, Arts and Justice” collide, and blinked at the title of a talk: “The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth.” The description read: Based on the story of Naboth’s vineyard as a perennial tale of land and dispossession. The presentation takes us into the temple with Isaiah as he reaches the depths of despair, to the outer court of the temple as Jeremiah denounces the king, to the Peruvian rainforest as the army confronts indigenous people and to the Scottish Highlands as the people are cleared from the land to make way for sheep. It ends on the hillsides of Galilee”.

* * *

I was startled: What?

“Does anyone really believe that the meek inherit the earth?” I asked my husband, Roy.

Roy said, “Well, Jesus said they did. If you believe the words of Jesus, you’d believe it.”

Oh! I see.

These paradoxes are, indeed, a golden thread running through the teaching of Jesus: Those who give -time, energy, money- receive far more than they have given. Seed sown yields an exponential harvest. The greatest is she who blesses other people. Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who can take the lower place will be exalted by God.

* * *

But, you see, I once was young and now am middle-aged, and so my initial reaction is, “What? The meek inherit the earth?” Well, if that’s true, then perhaps I didn’t understand “meek,” “inherit” or “the earth!”

And so I settled down with a Bible, a journal, and a thermos of green tea for some deadly serious Jesus-and-me time.

Because what I believe about these questions is crucial: Do the meek inherit the earth, or don’t they? Is what Jesus says true, or isn’t it? My answers will determine the direction of my life and how I live it.

So what is meekness?

Meekness is a quality of soul and character, unrelated to economics, social status or education. The New Testament word “meek,” πραεις, praeis, describes those who have a mild, quiet, gentle spirit, in opposition to the proud and supercilious.

“The meek are those who quietly submit to God; who can bear insult; are silent, or return a soft answer; who, in their patience, keep possession of their own souls, when they can scarcely keep possession of anything else. These meek ones are happy, even in this world,” Matthew Henry’s Commentary.

* * *

Roy is a mathematician, and has a more logical mind than I do (or so he tells me!) He pointed out that I was puzzled by Jesus’ statement that the meek inherit the earth because I was instinctively equating the meek with the poor. But this is a false equation.

Poverty does not necessarily bring out meekness and gentleness. Friends who worked with Heidi Baker’s Iris Ministries in the bush of Mozambique wrote that though they had brought enough food to distribute, the desperately hungry people fought “like wolves” for the food, so they moved on, without distributing what they had.

Jan Sassenberg who works in Sierra Leone, one of the poorest countries in the world, wrote in a guest post on my blog “Dreaming Beneath the Spires” of being “overwhelmed by the vastness of the suffering around us. Children beaten mercilessly and dying needlessly.”

In contrast, we noticed during a recent holiday in Sweden, one of the richest countries in the world, that children were brought up affectionately and with good humour. (Sweden was, incidentally, in 1979, one of the first countries in the world to outlaw the spanking of children.)

The poor are not necessarily the meek. These countries lead the world in homicide rates—Honduras, El Salvador, Venezuela, Guatemala, Belize, Columbia, Trinidad, South Africa, and Brazil. The most dangerous countries for women are Afghanistan, The Democratic Republic of Congo, Pakistan, India and Somalia. And when it comes to physical abuse and economic exploitation of children, the worst countries include India, Nigeria, Zambia, Sri Lanka, Indonesia, Thailand, Cambodia, Myanmar, Vietnam, and Laos. All these countries have a low per capita income.

Poverty can bring stress, anxiety, bitterness, jealousy, and increased temptations to dishonesty. It can also bring empathy, gratitude, an appreciation of simple pleasures, family bonding and closeness.

Some very poor people are meek and gentle, and some are not, just as some rich and successful people are meek and gentle, and some are not. I have met humble, gentle people at High Table in Oxford Colleges and at Oxford’s magical garden parties—as well as, of course, the opposite. And I have met prickly, arrogant poor people—as well as, of course, the opposite.

Why should I be meek?

Because I am a Christian, and Jesus wants to teach us meekness so our souls may find rest. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Matt 11 28-30).

And rest is one of the pearls of great price in life. These include: health, love, friendship, fascinating work, and enough money to live a stimulating culture-filled, low-hassle life. And mental peace, shalom.

Without inner peace and well-being, shalom, one cannot fully enjoy the rest of these.

And Jesus promises–to those who are meek and humble like him–the rest and peace we need to enjoy the earth.

* * *

Meekness, like humility, is an abstract concept, best understood and illuminated by its opposite.

The opposite of humility is pride. Pride steals our rest and peace. It makes entertaining stressful. Wastes time and money in the effort to keep up appearances and impress. Leads to conflict in trivial things. It makes us overwork. It blights creativity with perfectionism instead of making peace with good enough. And adds a special twist of bitterness to failure, making it feel like death.

What’s the opposite of meekness? Being pushy, aggressive, loud and overbearing. Self-centred, manipulative, deceitful and scheming. Would you want to be like that? To achieve your heart’s desires? To gain the whole earth, so to speak.

I would not. I would loathe “unmeekness” as a way of life. The stress would not be worth it.

And people instinctively resist the pushy, aggressive and manipulative. Not only do you not find God on your side—for “God resists the proud,” as the Apostle James writes, you may well find the world of men resisting you.

Besides, it is safe to be meek.

There is really no need to be pushy, scheming, manipulative or aggressive.

Why?

Because we live in a world charged with the power of God, and so don’t need to push and shove, manoeuvre and intrigue our way through life.

Because the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof.

Because the whole earth throbs with his glory.

Because we do not have because we do not ask (James 4:3), and we have but to ask to receive (Matthew 7:7).

Because he can give me what he pleases without my having to scheme how to get or grab it.

Because when I look out for myself, he lets me.

But when I let him look out for me, he lets me, too.

And I know which is better.

* * *

An excerpt from my ebook and paperback The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth available on kindle and paperback on

Amazon UK

Amazon.com

Part II: The Earth Belongs to Those who Take the Time to Enjoy It.

In which Christ Lures us to Secret Prayer, and Promises us a Reward for it.

By Anita Mathias

“Come you apart from them and be secret,” Christ calls out to us. (Matt. 6 1-18)

We live in a world governed by “the rules,” described by Brene Brown in Daring Greatly: For women, “be naturally beautiful, thin, and perfect at everything, especially motherhood. Be sweet, stay quiet; be perfect moms and wives; don’t own your power.”

For men: “stop feeling, start earning, climb the way to the top, or die trying. Winning, emotional control, risk-taking, dominance, self-reliance, primacy of work, pursuit of status.”

And in the microcosm of church, do these rules still apply? Sure. Men who are wealthy, successful, dominant are feted, and elected as elders, never mind when they last opened their Bibles, or settled down for a time of prayer. For women, being fit, pretty, well-presented, and a perfect mom and housekeeper has become a subset of spirituality in a way the medieval mystics would not have recognized.

But we also uneasily respect those rare birds in our churches: the prayer warriors, the Bible mavens, the mission freaks. They may not be entirely accepted by the cool Christians to whom Sunday morning services are a respite from a week of getting and spending and managing, but we respect them in the way fifth century Christians respected St. Simon Stylites who spent 37 years on a pillar to escape worldly distractions.

But Jesus does not permit us to use our devotion to him as yet another means of gaining status and attention. He advises: Don’t publicly donate or serve on every board to gain a reputation for philanthropy. You might get the respect shallow people accord the rich if you do so, but not the unspecified (but undoubtedly marvellous) reward which your Father will give you. Give generously, but so secretly that your left hand does not know what your right hand is doing. Give for your Father’s reward, which will be wonderful, whether it be the success you crave, the wealth you need, the family closeness you want, or health, or, best of all, peace.

* * *

Similarly, with prayer. We might hold sway in prayer meetings, with long prayers whose secret, perhaps unconscious, objective includes impressing people with our soft heart, our passion for Christ, our theological understanding–or even to gossip through the tidbits we drop in, or subtly manipulate people by the things we pray for them. And people may be impressed by our long prayers. And that is all the reward we get. Pretty paltry, huh?

But what if we waste time with God, and–instead of earning, organizing, working, networking, promoting ourselves–spend time in prayer so secretly that no one knows, and no one will guess?

We get God’s reward.

Again, unspecified, but I think it will be really, really cool. It will be the right reward for us, and for our lives. He might crown our efforts with success. Grant us health like Caleb, who claimed he was as strong and vigorous at 85 as at 40 (Joshua 14:11).

He might bless our family with love. Deliver us from evil. Make our plans succeed. Guide us.

* * *

When Roy and I were newly-wed and newly committed to Christ, we joined a Christian “young marrieds” group.

Some of those people have soared the heights—were named by Christianity Today as young pastors to watch, became passionate career missionaries. Others just chugged along, same old, same old…

I noticed the same in Christian friends I’ve known for decades. A few have taken enormous spiritual strides, becoming people of wisdom and spiritual wealth with which to bless others; others remained apparently stagnant.

What makes the difference between a passionate Christian and an average one? I used to think it was whether one actually obeyed the “rhema” word of God–when God highlights certain passages of scripture to your spirit, or clearly speaks to you. And that’s part of it.

But the other thing which makes Christians sweet, rather than sour, and a pleasure to be with, like cool spring water on a hot day, is their hidden life of prayer.

Prayer running through the day like a quiet, underground river, guarding your heart, keeping you calm, giving you guidance.

Walking with Christ, an invisible friend, a secret sharer, who will at crucial times whisper, “This is the way; walk in it.”

And this guidance and direction makes all the difference between one life and another, between a blessed life and another.

* * *

The rewards of prayer include a quieter spirit, a more loving spirit, being saved from sin, God’s blessing, God’s guidance. These we can guess at.

But perhaps, once it’s all over, and the last curtain falls, we will see all the difference our secret life of prayer made to our actual life amid the hurly-burly. We will see all the blessings that came as a result of our secret life of prayer which we were unaware of; all the things we were saved from; all the times life-changing guidance welled up within our spirits–and how grateful we will be that we cultivated the habit of prayer that grew to be so sweet and necessary that we would have done it for its own sake.

But, in fact, God, who is infinitely generous, had rewarded us for our secret times with him in myriad ways we never guessed at on earth, but now see clearly.

“Do not Resist Evil;” One Way to Heal after Experiencing Evil

By Anita Mathias

Image Credit

You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. (Matthew 5 38-41).

Oh Jesus, how costly your words are.

Recently, when I’ve suffered actual or perceived injustice or annoyance, and have taken up the matter with Jesus, I’ve heard him say, “Let him.” “Let her.”

“Just don’t get entangled with evil, with resistance, with revenge. Let them do what they want to do. I am the ultimate score-keeer, the umpire, who will provide you another coat, and strength to walk the third mile on your own business after you’ve marched two miles carrying the Roman soldier’s gear.”

* * *

If we do not “let them,” if we plot revenge, if we put our emotional hooks in our enemy’s flesh, mentally dragging them behind us everywhere, we get embroiled in an endless tit-for-tat world of malice.

The principle of an eye for an eye, applied in the Code of Hammurabi, Judaism and Islam was neat, merciless, and there an end. But in our more sophisticated societies, what constitutes an eye for an eye is not so easily calculated. People extract revenge in all sorts of ways: gossip, slander, blocking, passive aggression, malice, and pettiness.

Sad for the victim, and sad too for the perpetrator—whose character becomes smaller and meaner and shrivels, becoming increasingly cut off from the waterfall of the grace and power of God. Once we put those who have wronged us on a mental blacklist, unconsciously ready to get even given a chance, we are no longer quite so open to God’s guidance; the presence of the Holy Spirit no longer pulses in our souls.

But what are we to do when we suffer injustice? Because we well might. The enemy of our souls stalks this world, twisting, corrupting, darkening. However, he plays against the Grandmaster who will, of course, ultimately win.

* * *

Let tell you a story of my initial failure and ultimate success in one of my encounters with evil. And about one way I have stumbled on to heal after experiencing evil.

Several years ago, I was wronged, unfairly treated, and humiliated. Because this happened at an extremely vulnerable point in my life, it precipitated an episode of “great sadness.”

A couple of years after that incident, through an unexpected turn of events, I got to “whistle-blow,”—I publicly pointed out a severe dereliction of duty on the part of the person who had unfairly treated me. They resigned from their relatively well-paid sinecurish job.

Quits, huh? This person furiously said to me, “Well, you’ve got your pound of flesh now, haven’t you?” And I childishly replied, “No, what you did to me was far worse.”

But yes, I had got my pound of flesh, plus. However, each time I remembered how I had been treated, my heart burned with indignation at the injustice and shaming. I wanted to do something about it, all over again. Though, I had already done something. As they said, I had had my pound of flesh. (And eating anger probably did add some pounds of flesh to my frame.)

We will never feel quits, never, because the memory of past wrongs feels fresh again. And at the “re-injury,” we again want to get even, though heck, we’ve already done so in so many petty soul-corrupting ways, damaging our souls, damaging our communion with Jesus, and with his sweet spirit.

* * *

And so for our protection, Jesus tells us not to even try to get even. But we are not to sit all tensed up saying, “I will not take revenge. I will not think of a pink elephant.”

There are other ways for the soul to heal. One is do good to those who have injured you. And what when our soul cannot yet stretch to that sublimity? When we cannot bring ourselves to do our enemies a good turn?

I am reading Brene Brown’s Daring Greatly. She quotes psychologist James Pennebaker who says that the act of not discussing a traumatic event or confiding it to another person could be more damaging than the actual event. Conversely, when people shared their stories and experiences, their physical health improved.

In his book Writing to Heal, Pennebaker says, “The act of writing about traumatic experience for as little as 15 or 20 minutes a day for three or four days can produce measurable changes in physical and mental health. Emotional writing can also affect people’s sleep habits, work efficiency, and how they connect with others.”

So then, I write my three morning pages about this particular episode which still made me feel outraged when I thought about it.

* * *

And as I write, I see it wholly, not just all the infuriating bits, but the whole chain of events, including my culpability.

In scripture, a turning point is often marked by the phrase, “But God.” And unexpectedly, God steps in. As I was able to see those disturbing events more clearly, I was also able to see the good God brought out of them.

He showed me that his loving kindness had been extended to me, though other people may have behaved out of insecurity, competitiveness, jealousy, malice or in a good old-fashioned power struggle. Augustine writes in his Confessions that his teachers acted towards him in malice or indifference, but God was working too, turning it to good.

I then had been leading and spear-heading something I shouldn’t have been because I was overwhelmed and beside myself in my personal life. I need to get my house in order, literally. I needed to get my business profitable. I need to stabilize my emotions. I needed more sleep, more rest. I needed to write, which I wasn’t doing at all. I needed the desert, which I so chafed against. I needed an Elijah experience of sleeping, eating and resting. I needed to see God in the wilderness like Hagar did. And I needed to emerge from it, strong, leaning on my beloved.

And through my enforced sojourn in the desert, forced on me by these people, I developed my latent entrepreneurial gifts. I established our family business, freeing me to focus on writing. I had time to establish my blog, slowly writing my way to a blogging style which speaks to people. I learnt soaking prayer. I became convinced of the deep love of God for me. My soul healed. And I cut all ties with those toxic people!

God was in the situation, the Grandmaster, putting me in a corner, to rest, to heal, to gather strength for the destiny he had in mind for me. The people who put me in the corner were also pawns in the grandmaster’s hand. Nothing happened to me but what He permitted; nothing, but what He turned to goodness and blessing for me.

Nothing, nothing, happens to you but what God has permitted. Nothing, nothing happens to you that God is unable to turn to good.

Do not resist an evil person. Do not get emotionally entangled with them. If they force you to march a mile, march it. If they take your cloak, shrug it off; let him have it. And then march free, your eyes on your Father, who can give you the cloak you need, the strength you need, whose eyes are on you, who can do anything, for whom nothing is too wonderful.

And Jesus, please give me the grace, if and when necessary, to live my own words—and Yours.

Over to you:

Have you experienced evil? How have you healed after that experience?

A City Set on a Hill cannot be Hidden: Focus on Working, not Networking

By Anita Mathias

So you are going to build a city.

Dig its foundations deep. Pour the concrete. Design your buildings. It’s your city: Put in whatever you like—the Alhambra, the Hagia Sophia, the Sagrada Familia, the Parthenon. Throw in Notre Dame and Westminster Abbey.

Decorate your buildings as you wish—with the mosaics from Ravenna, or from the Topkapi Palacein Istanbul.

It’s your city. Put in the Pre-Raphaelites, the Impressionists, Botticelli and Raphael. Have your floors inlaid marble from Florence. Have indoor fountains and reflecting pools where goldfish glide.

Throw in chandeliers and floor to ceiling windows. Let your city be full of light.

You are building your city on a hill. It cannot be hidden.

* * *

You will, in moments of lesser faith, read blogs on how to hustle, how to promote your city, how to network, make connections, build a platform.

Oh builder of cities, beware. All these things steal time and focus away from learning the art and craft of city building.

Instead, seek God for the perfect blueprint for your city. Seek his inspiration for each tower and spire, each inlaid marble floor, each wall hung with Persian carpets, and each Tiffany lamp through which light glows.

Unless love runs through your city, and the desire to meet people’s needs for beauty, joy, peace, wisdom or rest, all the promotion and hustling you do will be futile. Nobody will long linger there, buy property there, and stroll through the boulevards under shady lime trees, hand in hand with their lovers.

* * *

There is a kind of networking which is sheer joy—if you connect with people whose work you love, if you praise them honestly, interact with their work whole-heartedly, then you make friends, and this whole city-building business become more joyful.

However, flattering people for their attention; making connections for the good things these connections might bring you; befriending people to use them to promote your work—how can one ask God to bless such endeavours? Oh woman of God, flee these things.

There is a sort of hustling and self-promotion that is practical atheism. We act as if there is no God who can help people notice our city on a hill. We act as if God does not delight in good work and want people to enjoy it. We act as if God cannot even now give us twelve legions of those who will enjoy our work if we ask him. We forget the power of prayer.

And the worst thing about excessive self-promotion and connection-making? It devours the time and energy that should go into making your rare and beautiful city, set on a hill. So beautiful that at night, when the lights are switched on, and coloured fountains play, people cannot but look up and marvel; their feet itch, they yearn to walk up and explore.

And in spring, they will delight in walking through its gardens of cherry blossoms, and will sit under their shade, and look at the fields of daffodils, stretching as far as the eye can see.

* * *

Besides, the connections which matter will arise organically. Other builders of cities on hills will notice yours, and ask you managed that 150 metre spire without visible support, and you will talk about flying buttresses. And you will ask them what pigments they used for those impossibly large stained glass windows which flood their cathedrals with rainbowed light, and they will tell you.

* * *

God delights in your creativity. Build your city under his eye, as your worship to him, seeking his wisdom, in alignment with his stream of thoughts which outnumber the grains of sand on the seashore.

Let him smile, and say it is very good.

And as for the audience you’d love to have?

Remember, a city on a hill cannot be hidden. It glimmers during the day, and its light shines through the land at night.

When People Mess up the Story of your Life, but God Edits it Beautifully

By Anita Mathias

The Flight into Egypt and the Triumph of the Innocents (William Holman Hunt)

I read Matthew 2 as I blog through the Bible, and realize how much sheer misery and hassle and stress Joseph and Mary and Jesus had to endure for no sin or mistake of their own—but purely because of their destiny, purely because of other people’s jealousy. [Read more…]

God Comes to Those Who Dare to be Different: Do Not Be Afraid

By Anita Mathias

And when God chose to become flesh and dwell among us, the angel wisely prefaces his glorious announcement, “You have found favour with God,” with “Do not be afraid.”

You, a “virgin,” will bear a child. Do not be afraid.

Oh, the looming scandal, what would people say? How many would have rejected this “blessing,” but Mary did not balk. She accepted the potential disgrace, the disapproval, the whispers. “I am the doulos, the servant of the Lord. Be it done to me, according to your word.” I will not be afraid. [Read more…]