Meekness = Weakness?

Charles Bukowski and Empathy for the Oppressed

The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth by Charles Bukowski

if I suffer at this
typewriter
think how I’d feel
among the lettuce-
pickers of Salinas?
I think of the men
I’ve known in
factories
with no way to
get out-
choking while living
choking while laughing
at Bob Hope or Lucille
Ball while
2 or 3 children beat
tennis balls against
the wall.
some suicides are never
recorded.

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Just today I attended a capstone symposium for Duke’s Theology and the Arts, and an argument was made for the placement of poetry to open a conversation, and so that’s what I will do from now on. The poem’s author will vary, depending on whether or not I have a personal poem to talk about the subject at hand.

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Recently the word “meek” has been seeping back into my daily context. It’s interesting how often meekness is considered weakness. (Was this a 90s church quip? “Meekness isn’t weakness” feels familiar in a way that unlocks all sorts of weird nostalgic but slightly nauseating feelings in me.) When discussing and teaching the Beatitudes with my students, I’m not sure I processed what the word means. Most of the kiddos assumed it meant quiet or shy or something like that.

Meekness is defined as a controlled strength without complaint, especially in the face of oppression or personal injury. Oof. This isn’t something that most of us want to be. We live in a world of extreme offense. (As an enneagram 4, I’ve had to train this out of myself, and it still rears its ugly head in the oddest of places.) Personality classifications aside (because no matter how we choose to define or classify ourselves—and classifications can be wildly beneficial—we are accountable for all of our actions), the meek endure. Meekness implies a HOPE of future justice. Matthew 5:5 says, “blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” Those who endure oppression or personal injury have a lot of good coming for them.

Jesus’ audience for these Beatitudes—a oh so small portion of his larger Sermon on the Mount from Matthew 5-7—was used to oppression. The Roman Empire, despite its recent pop culture interest, was not known for its kindness. Or levelheadedness. Or care for its constituency. Rome liked to come in and just take what it wanted…as is generally the case with empirical regimes.

Jesus was telling his audience—who was actively under the thumb of the Roman Empire—to keep it up. To stick it out. I wonder if I have ever really HAD to experience true meekness…my circumstances have been relatively unproblematic throughout my lifetime. I’m a middle aged white lady from the south. There’s very little in my world where I have not come out on top. (Stay with me here.) That’s not to say life hasn’t been hard in a variety of ways. I have had to scrape my way through a lot of situations. Most people have. But I’d be hard-pressed to consider myself oppressed. Though personal injury does happen from time to time.

What is my reaction? How often do I find myself taking offense? Are my beliefs and convictions so important to the whole world that I need to broadcast them? (Thanks for subscribing to my email! Please feel free to use the Buy Me a Coffee button if you’d like to see more work like this one.) Do my grievances need to be aired, like so many Festivus celebrations? Or am I good to just let things be? To allow wrongs done against me fall to the wayside without conflict or complaint? It’s quite convicting.

Bukowski paints an interesting picture here, too. My experience is so limited. CB lived a much different life than mine, but his reflection is the same: how can we expect those who have experienced deep, deep hardship to be meek when they should be allowed to stand up and demand justice?

I think the difference here is lament.

Jesus is recognizing the lament of the marginalized and oppressed. The ones who have been repeatedly beaten down. There is relief to be found in their burdened cries for justice. Bukowski makes the case that actual meekness is a slow, self inflicted death. I can see why he reaches that conclusion. These beatitudes were controversial for a reason. (We’ve been talking about them as resistance literature in my lit classes.) How can Jesus ask someone who has been wronged so intensely NOT to be angry about that injustice?

I don’t have an answer. I’m not even looking to provide one. But goodness, do I think it’s important that we wrestle over these words that we like to vomit in accusation without understanding. This is bigger than me taking offense because someone calls me loud or short (of which I am both). It is washing the feet of your soon-to-be betrayer. Choosing to remain in (boundaries) relationship with someone who has wronged you. Asking an institution to do better and allowing the space for them to do so all while cherishing their growth.

Meekness is a pretty kick-ass attribute. One that holds to the 1 Corinthians 13 love definitions pretty well. Is it easy? Nope. Nothing that deep can be come by simply.

Blessings, friends.

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