Recently I've been reading The Whole Language: The Power of Extravagant Tenderness by Gregory Doyle. Father Doyle works with those whose lives have been marked by abuse, neglect, abandonment, prison, gang warfare, murder, drugs, etc. -- basically, the rejects of society. He usually interviews those who are referred to him or who ask for admittance to Homeboys, Inc. after their release from prison, then takes them in as his own sons and apprentices, allows them an 18-month formation and job training, and then like Jesus, sends them out after a fashion to tell their story and to recruit through love and tenderness others like themselves who are lost to society. He does this by creating a "sangha," a Buddhist term for a community of inclusion and acceptance.
The beauty of this story is that his "homies" fall in love with themselves for the first time in their lives and can't stop smiling at what they discover in themselves -- basic goodness/ tenderness, which neither they nor anyone else has ever seen in them.
As I was re-reading Matthew's Gospel this morning, I stopped at the Beatitudes, kind of amazed at what I was seeing in them in light of Gregory Doyle's book. For the first time, I was seeing the Beatitudes not as a list of isolated blessings, but rather as a pattern of progression in the spiritual life. I was seeing the pattern in Father Doyle's homeboys, who come to him as the most miserable of men and women and who in 18 months blossom into loving, laughing, compassionate, and giving members of a community. These "homies" represent in the most graphic way what it means to be "born again" and to develop a spiritual life:
Blessed are the poor in spirit -- those who have experienced the kind of grief and sadness that comes from being rejected, unloved, unacceptable and unaccepted by society, especially by their families. Those who cannot see themselves as "good" in any sense.
Blessed are those who mourn --- Once these rejects begin to experience acceptance and even love within the community of men and women like themselves, they begin to grieve/ mourn the ways they have hurt other people. Their angry, tough, personas begin to break down and they become vulnerable.
Blessed are the meek --- For the first time in their lives, they do not have to defend themselves, prove themselves, maintain a tough exterior to hide fear inside, and they become gentle -- even emotional and loving. They become submissive to the Holy Spirit instead of to the anger that previously ruled their lives.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. As the homies begin to experience tenderness toward themselves from others, they discover for the first time their own power to extend that same tenderness toward others. They become "filled" to overflowing; they desire the goodness that has been lacking their whole lives. They open themselves to the Spirit of God within them.
Blessed are the merciful ---- now they can turn to other people in mercy and forgiveness instead of in anger and hostility. They become like God, extending to others the same mercy they have experienced.
Blessed are the pure in heart ---- They are now able to see God at work in their lives; they see goodness in other people and are able to respond to the love offered them from others.
Blessed are the peacemakers -- They gradually turn from gangbangers to peacemakers, resisting the temptation to get even, to come out on top, to strike out at others. They want others to experience the same kind of tenderness that has transformed their lives, and as a result:
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness -- they are no longer accepted by their peers, those who have not yet experienced the kind of transformation they themselves have undergone. They are misunderstood by those outside the community as weak and defenseless.
We don't have to be gangbangers, rapists, druggies, or murderers to experience the kind of progressive transformation evident in Father Doyle's "homies." But I imagine all of us at some time must realize our own kind of poverty in order to embark on the kind of journey described in the Beatitudes. Even Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection wrote in his book (Practice of the Presence of God), "I can do fewer good things than anyone!" And St. Peter, upon realizing the holiness of Jesus, said, "Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man." Once we finally realize our inner poverty and lack of spiritual resources, we are on our way!
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