Remembering the Beatitudes on Yom Kippur

Last night I awoke from a dream in which I was being attacked by a drone. Thunder rumbled nearby, but to my relief it was not a threat. I was safe in my bed.

I thought of the many people who awaken to actual drone attacks and bombs falling on their cities, and I mourned for them, especially those with vulnerable young children, the elderly who suffer alone, and abandoned pets trembling in fear under the rubble. That led me to pray for all meek beings struggling to survive in a dangerous, changing world. Then I remembered a promise that those who mourn will be comforted and that the meek shall inherit the earth, a promise that comforted me enough to sleep. We meek will survive.

Now is a time of great turmoil. Our climate is changing rapidly and alarmingly, and most of us are unprepared. A madman rules our country and is abetted by elites who are stealing our shared resources out of bottomless greed. New technologies and artificial intelligence are rapidly threatening our understanding of the world, reality itself, and even our very existence. The more I learn about these threats, the more I feel a deep longing for equity, fairness, and restoration of the public good in our world. Again, I recall being promised in the Sermon on the Mount that those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be satisfied. I count on that. I have seen it throughout my lifetime, though in recent years I have experienced the sickening dominance of evil. But I trust that I will experience the promised satisfaction again, and soon.

I don't know what it really means to be poor in spirit, and perhaps a Biblical scholar could tell me. I've always taken it to mean that it is holy to feel spiritually connected with people the world calls poor. People who don't have enough to eat, who lack adequate housing, who can't buy new shoes or get medical care. These people are beloved by every God and require our attention. Can I identify with the young man on the median in the hot sun, begging passersby, or the woman living in a car parked on the road, prey to prying eyes? Can I affirm with my actions that we are equal citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven?

When I weep for the many who are persecuted because of righteousness, I remember that they, too, are fellow citizens of this Kingdom of Heaven. Whatever their faith, in their prisons, detention centers, and gulags, they are promised solace, and when they are released, alive or dead, they will find peace and rest. But it is up to us to deliver on that promise by caring for them while they are among us.

We who are blessed to see reality must find ways to become peacemakers. We must turn away from hatred and division and fulfill our destiny as children of God. We who require mercy, and that is all of us, must show mercy to our enemies and plead for mercy for others, innocent or guilty of crimes, especially those caught up in sadistic institutions. If we show mercy, then we ourselves may receive mercy when we need it.

I struggle every day with a sense of dread about what may be coming. Every day I force myself to let go of anger, ignorance, and despair. My efforts to feel gratitude, to enjoy, to be brave, to express kindness, and to do the next right thing, lead me to moments of peace and a willingness to keep trying, even on "bad days." I strive to be pure in spirit so that I might see God, as promised. Longing to see God drives me deeper, makes me softer and humbler. I can tell I am growing when I see radiance and possibility in a future that may have seemed dark and lonely just moments before.

 Now is a time of great potential for awakening. In the midst of turmoil and anxiety, we must remain focused on what gives our lives meaning. For me, it is the gift of love and clarity in the present moment. It isn't just the love I feel for myself, my husband, a friend, my cat, or the face of an unknown child in a photograph, though those are real. I might be called upon to love much more, risk more, grow more, even to sacrifice more. When I recognize and accept this gift in an awakened moment, a door unlocks inside of me, and I experience God's presence.