Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

I spent the past week with a living example of this verse, which was funny because I’ve been reading about the beatitudes for the past few weeks and the significance of the Kingdom of Heaven. The book, The Divine Conspiracy, makes the argument that the promises are not just promises for our future but promises for our present. We who live in Christ also live in the Kingdom of Heaven, here today, but all too often interpret these promises as something for our far off future, not something we can receive now.

I had the privilege of escorting our special guest around the UK last week as she spoke at churches and shared her story, exhorting everyone she met to never doubt God’s faithfulness and challenging them to pray for and write to our brothers and sisters in the Persecuted Church, sharing what an encouragement that kind of support had been her for and her family over the past two years. Everywhere she went, people were deeply touched. She left every single man in a Welsh Baptist congregation last Sunday weeping. A member of parliament who we had never met before spent an unprecedented two hours with us, inviting us to worship at mass with him (in a private chapel in the parliament!), giving us a lengthy tour of both houses of parliament and treating us to a drink on the terrace of the Stranger’s Bar in the parliament. A senior officer at the Foreign Office, clearly deeply moved, swore up and down he would do all in his power to raise her case and the cases of others like her – and his colleague then proceeded to give us yet another unprecedented tour around the “important bits” of the FCO. A church of 200 women laughed, cried and applauded as she shared her story. Everywhere we went, people would come up afterwards and ask if they could simply hug her.

My friend’s husband, a pastor, disappeared two years ago. Disappearance is one of the cruelest acts committed by man – families go on for years, sometimes a lifetime, in the emotional torture of not knowing. Hope itself, one of the “three things that remain”, is twisted and used to cause an unrelenting pain. I have met women who have not seen their husband or children for twenty or thirty years and exist in a kind of excruciating limbo – torn between hope that they still live, that they will be reunited and the fear that they have been truly gone all this time and are never coming back.

My friend believes her husband is alive. She holds onto that hope – but she rests in something greater. Her pain is evident. As she spoke, the tears were always at the surface; but she is also without a doubt the most joyful person I have ever met. I laughed more last week than I have laughed in a long time because her joy was infectious. She is indeed poor in spirit, the pain and uncertainty she lives on a daily basis is something few of us will ever comprehend. The paradox of this beatitude, however, is made manifest in her – hers is the kingdom of Heaven and she knows it and has claimed it – living in hope and firm in the faith that our God is a faithful God. Lest I leave the impression that her faith and hope are focused on the return of her own husband, I’ll conclude this post with her own words. “I hope that my husband is alive. I believe that he is alive and will be returned to me. But whatever happens, whatever the answer, I will go on loving my Lord, because He is Faithful. Amen!

Advertisements