The meek shall inherit the Earth.
I have been listening to the Rise and Fall of Mars Hill podcast, mostly because I saw some comments on it by some people and priests I really respect and what they said piqued interest. I had never listened to anything from or knew anything about Mars Hill church in Portland, or its famous pastor Mark Driscoll, but as soon as I started listening, a whole bunch of familiar tropes and memories of similar situations came rushing in.
Long story short, for those who are unfamiliar, the church grew extremely large, with several different campuses and thousands of people over a few dozen years, but fell apart and almost completely disappeared over a few dozen days. Central to its rise and fall was Mark Driscoll, a pastor who had tremendous speaking skill, a heart to transform boys into men, and was increasingly prone to anger, narcissism, and pride.
The thing that strikes me so hard is how quickly and completely this church ceased to exist. If it weren’t for this podcast, I would doubt anyone would remember it after a generation, and even with it I doubt it. Similarly to the church where most of my Christian formation happened before Orthodoxy, everyone thought it was the “one thing needful” and evidence of God’s Providence, but simply doesn’t exist anymore. I don’t quite know how true this is of Mars Hill, but most of the people my age who went to my church now actively reject its approach to Christianity and in fact, Christianity altogether. We all know it’s not a numbers game, but if the numbers were to be crunched, I don’t think the balance would be tipped more to the Kingdom than the other way.
An important distinction between Mars Hill and my experience was that I wasn’t pastored by a hot-headed, controversial-on-purpose, stand-up comedian like at Mars Hill, though we definitely had people in the church that were similar and were in “leadership” roles or prominent within our circles. We had a sort-of “Quaker-lite” part of the service where anyone could stand up and give extemporaneous speeches on whatever was on his mind – called exhortations – and there were definitely those who liked to make the most of that time.
The special distinction of my church was that it taught homeschooling, courtship, and marriage complementarianism where Mars Hill’s seemed to be centered around whatever mattered most to Mark Driscoll – men need to act like responsible fathers, talk about sexual relations quite openly, and we have to get as many people saved as possible. Not any of these things do I really disagree with (except for explicit sexual talks from the pulpit), but even as a young teen I remember once having a discussion with my pastor that it seemed all we ever talked about was marriage and child-raising. (In all honesty, it wasn’t, but I do believe it was extremely over-emphasized such that it warped the collective mind of that church).
Seemingly, this was all exactly the path that God wanted for His people. At Mars Hill, they kept expanding and baptizing more and more people every year, at our church, families had more and more kids and won more and more high school debate contests. And then it all came crashing down. My church started its civil war over the discovery by a fiancé that his intended had once kissed a boy a decade ago, and Mars Hill when the abuse, financial manipulation, and narcissism became too big to keep quiet anymore.
So what do we have to show for all of it? Broken families, hurt children, negative association with anything Christian, destroyed lives, and anger. I don’t think that’s the path God wants for His people.
One of the ideas that keeps popping into my head as I listen to this podcast is a word that I honestly don’t think I ever understood, nor am even sure I fully do yet. That word is meekness. I remember reading Matthew when I was a young teenager and coming across that word and literally having no hook to hang it on in my brain. Meek? is that the same as weak? does it mean sad? has it something to do with giving up? passivity? This quality that will supposedly lead to inheriting the whole Earth qualified nothing to me.
I want to propose two aspects of meekness that I think point to its meaning – strength and kindness. Or being strong in being kind. Committing to love and committing to it no matter what.
The part of meekness that seems like weakness was particularly offensive to me. This was primarily a personal problem, as my personality is naturally passive, inward, and accepting of abuse, but I wanted to be not anything like that. This is partly why I so love reading about battles, and courage, and bands of brothers – Norse sagas and epic fantasy and Viking metal. The quality I crave – strength – is so glaringly obvious in these that it feeds a part of me I’ve starved.
But of course, brutalism is not strength. We know this instinctively when we see a movie villain who is all rage and muscle and contrast him with the cold, calculating, crafty one – the latter is a million times more terrifying because he has control of himself and can affect so much more thereby. And it’s actually not very difficult at all to be angry, to try and throw one’s weight around, to lose control. This kind of “strength” shows one not be a master at all, but to be a master of none.
But to be strong in kindness is probably one of the most difficult qualities one can cultivate. One who has cultivated it has accomplished something that most haven’t, and would truly have “bragging rights” if that were the point at all.
Thus we see the greatest king in Israel’s history is King David, who several times had the opportunity to kill Saul, but choose not to, even at the repeated insistence of his men. Saul sank deeper and deeper into his brutishness and this led him to even take his own life. King David refused to persecute the family of Saul and was given an eternal kingdom (in Christ). It was not the strength of Saul’s arm that conquered the giants, but the meekness of trusting in God’s Providence that won victories.
We see this kind strength in the Three Holy Youths and their friend Daniel. Even as they were threatened with fire or the lion’s den, they never ceased from wishing the foolish Persian king to “live forever” and wishing the prophecies of his downfall would be rather for his enemies. They didn’t rally a rebellion, shout curses, or seek to destroy him. They simply _ would _ not _ compromise.
This meekness made them some of the most famous people in history. Paradoxically, by not seeking out their own glory, they have been made more glorious than the angels in heaven. They are remembered every year, there are paintings of them, countless versions of their story has been told, and unlike any of the effects of Nebuchadnezzar that may still exist in the world, theirs will last into eternity while his will crumble into dust in the brightness of the glory of the Lord.
It always strikes me as we move towards Christmas how absolutely amazingly famous St Nicholas is, while we don’t have written down a single word of his. There are of course, many Saints who have written copiously and are well-known thereby, but there are few Saints as well-know, beloved, and remembered by as many people and as many cultures as St Nicholas of Myra (one may ask “where even is that?). He simply did what God told him to do – gave away his gold, protected the innocent, and prayed for God to act – and miracles were magnified, lives were changed, demonic temples were demolished, and whole peoples adopted him as their especially beloved protector.
And of course the paragon of meekness is our Savior Jesus Christ. God Himself who lowered Himself down to our level and took on the form of a slave for our sake, who would not defend Himself with clever words when His time had come, who forgave all even as they mocked, spat, and stabbed. He has conquered the strongest, most powerful, most destructive forces to ever be -- sin, death, and the demons.
The path to greatness isn’t in large numbers of fans, isn’t in increased reach throughout the world, isn’t even in RESULTS themselves. It is in meekness practiced in faithfulness. It doesn’t feel like it now, but the little momma who continues to serve her children even when they are ungrateful, is adorned more beautifully than the richest queen. The father who quietly works to provide for his family until his body can’t go anymore will be presented with a feast more sumptuous than any banquet. That candle that is burning at both ends, done in kindness, will be a source of light and warmth into eternity.
The meek shall inherit the Earth.