The paradoxes that Jesus presents in the Beat.i.tudes express the believer's true situation in the world in similar terms to those repeatedly used by Paul to describe his experience of living and suffering as an Apostle: "We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything" (2 Cor 6:810). "We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed" (2 Cor 4:89). What the Beat.i.tudes in Luke's Gospel present as a consolation and a promise, Paul presents as the lived experience of the apostle. He considers that he has been made "last of all," a man under a death sentence, a spectacle to the world, homeless, calumniated, despised (cf. 1 Cor 4:913). And yet he experiences a boundless joy. As the one who has been handed over, who has given himself away in order to bring Christ to men, he experiences the interconnectedness of Cross and Resurrection: We are handed over to death "so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh" (2 Cor 4:11). In his messengers Christ himself still suffers, still hangs on the Cross. And yet he is risen, irrevocably risen. Although Jesus' messenger in this world is still living the story of Jesus' suffering, the splendor of the Resurrection shines through, and it brings a joy, a "blessedness," greater than the happiness he could formerly have experienced on worldly paths. It is only now that he realizes what real "happiness," what true "blessedness" is, and, in so doing, notices the paltriness of what by conventional standards must be considered satisfaction and happiness.

The paradoxes that Saint Paul experienced in his life, which correspond to the paradoxes of the Beat.i.tudes, thus display the same thing that John expresses in yet another way when he calls the Lord's Cross an "exaltation," an elevation to G.o.d's throne on high. John brings Cross and Resurrection, Cross and exaltation together in a single word, because for him the one is in fact inseparable from the other. The Cross is the act of the "exodus," the act of love that is accomplished to the uttermost and reaches "to the end" (Jn 13:1). And so it is the place of glory-the place of true contact and union with G.o.d, who is love (cf. 1 Jn 4:7, 16). This Johannine vision, then, is the ne plus ultra ne plus ultra in concentrating the paradoxes of the Beat.i.tudes and bringing them within reach of our understanding. in concentrating the paradoxes of the Beat.i.tudes and bringing them within reach of our understanding.

This reflection upon Paul and John has shown us two things. First, the Beat.i.tudes express the meaning of discipleship. They become more concrete and real the more completely the disciple dedicates himself to service in the way that is ill.u.s.trated for us in the life of Saint Paul. What the Beat.i.tudes mean cannot be expressed in purely theoretical terms; it is proclaimed in the life and suffering, and in the mysterious joy, of the disciple who gives himself over completely to following the Lord. This leads to the second point: the Christological character of the Beat.i.tudes. The disciple is bound to the mystery of Christ. His life is immersed in communion with Christ: "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me" (Gal 2:20). The Beat.i.tudes are the transposition of Cross and Resurrection into discipleship. But they apply to the disciple because they were first paradigmatically lived by Christ himself.

This becomes even more evident if we turn now to consider Matthew's version of the Beat.i.tudes (cf. Mt 5:312). Anyone who reads Matthew's text attentively will realize that the Beat.i.tudes present a sort of veiled interior biography of Jesus, a kind of portrait of his figure. He who has no place to lay his head (cf. Mt 8:20) is truly poor; he who can say, "Come to me...for I am meek and lowly in heart" (cf. Mt 11:2829) is truly meek; he is the one who is pure of heart and so unceasingly beholds G.o.d. He is the peacemaker, he is the one who suffers for G.o.d's sake. The Beat.i.tudes display the mystery of Christ himself, and they call us into communion with him. But precisely because of their hidden Christological character, the Beat.i.tudes are also a road map for the Church, which recognizes in them the model of what she herself should be. They are directions for discipleship, directions that concern every individual, even though-according to the variety of callings-they do so differently for each person.

Let us now take a somewhat closer look at each individual link in the chain of the Beat.i.tudes. First of all, we have the much debated saying about the "poor in spirit." This term figures in the Qumran scrolls as the self-designation of the pious. They also call themselves "the poor of grace," "the poor of thy redemption," or simply "the poor" (Gnilka, Matthausevangelium, Matthausevangelium, I, p. 121). By referring to themselves in this way, they express their awareness of being the true Israel, thereby invoking traditions that are deeply rooted in Israel's faith. At the time of the Babylonian conquest of Judea, 90 percent of Judeans would have been counted among the poor; Persian tax policy resulted in another situation of dramatic poverty after the Exile. It was no longer possible to maintain the older vision according to which the righteous prosper and poverty is a consequence of a bad life (the so-called I, p. 121). By referring to themselves in this way, they express their awareness of being the true Israel, thereby invoking traditions that are deeply rooted in Israel's faith. At the time of the Babylonian conquest of Judea, 90 percent of Judeans would have been counted among the poor; Persian tax policy resulted in another situation of dramatic poverty after the Exile. It was no longer possible to maintain the older vision according to which the righteous prosper and poverty is a consequence of a bad life (the so-called Tun-Ergehens-Zusammenhang, Tun-Ergehens-Zusammenhang, or conduct-life correspondence). Now Israel recognizes that its poverty is exactly what brings it close to G.o.d; it recognizes that the poor, in their humility, are the ones closest to G.o.d's heart, whereas the opposite is true of the arrogant pride of the rich, who rely only on themselves. or conduct-life correspondence). Now Israel recognizes that its poverty is exactly what brings it close to G.o.d; it recognizes that the poor, in their humility, are the ones closest to G.o.d's heart, whereas the opposite is true of the arrogant pride of the rich, who rely only on themselves.

The piety of the poor that grew out of this realization finds expression in many of the Psalms; the poor recognize themselves as the true Israel. In the piety of these Psalms, in their expression of deep devotion to G.o.d's goodness, in the human goodness and humility that grew from it as men waited vigilantly for G.o.d's saving love-here developed that generosity of heart that was to open the door for Christ. Mary and Joseph, Simeon and Anna, Zachariah and Elizabeth, the shepherds of Bethlehem, and the Twelve whom the Lord called to intimate discipleship are all part of this current, which contrasts with the Pharisees and the Sadducees, but also, despite a great deal of spiritual affinity, with Qumran as well. They are the ones in whom the New Testament begins, in full awareness of its perfect unity with the faith of Israel that has been maturing to ever greater purity.

Silently evolving here was the att.i.tude before G.o.d that Paul explored in his theology of justification: These are people who do not flaunt their achievements before G.o.d. They do not stride into G.o.d's presence as if they were partners able to engage with him on an equal footing; they do not lay claim to a reward for what they have done. These are people who know that their poverty also has an interior dimension; they are lovers who simply want to let G.o.d bestow his gifts upon them and thereby to live in inner harmony with G.o.d's nature and word. The saying of Saint Therese of Lisieux about one day standing before G.o.d with empty hands, and holding them open to him, describes the spirit of these poor ones of G.o.d: They come with empty hands; not with hands that grasp and clutch, but with hands that open and give and thus are ready to receive from G.o.d's bountiful goodness.

Because this is the case, there is no opposition between Matthew, who speaks of the poor in spirit, and Luke, in whose Gospel the Lord addresses the "poor" without further qualification. Some have claimed that Matthew took the concept of poverty that Luke originally understood in a totally material and real way, spiritualized it, and so robbed it of its radicalism. Yet anyone who reads the Gospel of Luke knows perfectly well that it is he who introduces us to the "poor in spirit"-the sociological group, one might say, among whom Jesus' earthly journey, and that of his message, could begin. Conversely, it is clear that Matthew remains completely in the tradition of piety reflected in the Psalms and so in the vision of the true Israel expressed in them.

The poverty of which this tradition speaks is never a purely material phenomenon. Purely material poverty does not bring salvation, though of course those who are disadvantaged in this world may count on G.o.d's goodness in a particular way. But the heart of those who have nothing can be hardened, poisoned, evil-interiorly full of greed for material things, forgetful of G.o.d, covetous of external possessions.

On the other hand, the poverty spoken of here is not a purely spiritual att.i.tude, either. Admittedly, not everyone is called to the radicalism with which so many true Christians-from Anthony, father of monasticism, to Francis of a.s.sisi, down to the exemplary poor of our era-have lived and continue to live their poverty as a model for us. But, in order to be the community of Jesus' poor, the Church has constant need of the great ascetics. She needs the communities that follow them, living out poverty and simplicity so as to display to us the truth of the Beat.i.tudes. She needs them to wake everyone up to the fact that possession is all about service, to contrast the culture of affluence with the culture of inner freedom, and thereby to create the conditions for social justice as well.

The Sermon on the Mount is not a social program per se, to be sure. But it is only when the great inspiration it gives us vitally influences our thought and our action, only when faith generates the strength of renunciation and responsibility for our neighbor and for the whole of society-only then can social justice grow, too. And the Church as a whole must never forget that she has to remain recognizably the community of G.o.d's poor. Just as the Old Testament opened itself through G.o.d's poor to renewal in the New Covenant, so too any renewal of the Church can be set in motion only through those who keep alive in themselves the same resolute humility, the same goodness that is always ready to serve.

Thus far, we have considered only the first half of the first Beat.i.tude, "Blessed are the poor in spirit." In both Matthew and Luke the promise a.s.signed to them is as follows: "Theirs [yours] is the Kingdom of G.o.d [the Kingdom of heaven]" (Mt 5:3; Lk 6:20). "Kingdom of G.o.d" is the basic category of Jesus' message; here it becomes part of the Beat.i.tudes. This context is important for a correct understanding of this much disputed term. We have already seen this in our examination of the meaning of the expression "Kingdom of G.o.d," and we will need to recall it frequently in the course of our further reflections.

But it may be a good idea-before we continue our meditation on the text-to turn for a moment to the figure whom the history of faith offers us as the most intensely lived ill.u.s.tration of this Beat.i.tude: Francis of a.s.sisi. The saints are the true interpreters of Holy Scripture. The meaning of a given pa.s.sage of the Bible becomes most intelligible in those human beings who have been totally transfixed by it and have lived it out. Interpretation of Scripture can never be a purely academic affair, and it cannot be relegated to the purely historical. Scripture is full of potential for the future, a potential that can only be opened up when someone "lives through" and "suffers through" the sacred text. Francis of a.s.sisi was gripped in an utterly radical way by the promise of the first Beat.i.tude, to the point that he even gave away his garments and let himself be clothed anew by the bishop, the representative of G.o.d's fatherly goodness, through which the lilies of the field were clad in robes finer than Solomon's (cf. Mt 6:2829). For Francis, this extreme humility was above all freedom for service, freedom for mission, ultimate trust in G.o.d, who cares not only for the flowers of the field but specifically for his human children. It was a corrective to the Church of his day, which, through the feudal system, had lost the freedom and dynamism of missionary outreach. It was the deepest possible openness to Christ, to whom Francis was perfectly configured by the wounds of the stigmata, so perfectly that from then on he truly no longer lived as himself, but as one reborn, totally from and in Christ. For he did not want to found a religious order: He simply wanted to gather the People of G.o.d to listen anew to the word-without evading the seriousness of G.o.d's call by means of learned commentaries.

By creating the Third Order, though, Francis did accept the distinction between radical commitment and the necessity of living in the world. The point of the Third Order is to accept with humility the task of one's secular profession and its requirements, wherever one happens to be, while directing one's whole life to that deep interior communion with Christ that Francis showed us. "To own goods as if you owned nothing" (cf. 1 Cor 7:29ff.)-to master this inner tension, which is perhaps the more difficult challenge, and, sustained by those pledged to follow Christ radically, truly to live it out ever anew-that is what the third orders are for. And they open up for us what this Beat.i.tude can mean for all all. It is above all by looking at Francis of a.s.sisi that we see clearly what the words "Kingdom of G.o.d" mean. Francis stood totally within the Church, and at the same time it is in figures such as he that the Church grows toward the goal that lies in the future, and yet is already present: The Kingdom of G.o.d is drawing near....

Let us pa.s.s over for the time being the second Beat.i.tude listed in Matthew's Gospel and go directly to the third, which is closely connected with the first: "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth" (Mt 5:5). Some translations render the Greek word praus praus as "nonviolent" rather than "meek." This is a narrowing of the Greek term, which carries a great wealth of tradition. The third Beat.i.tude is practically a Psalm citation: "The meek shall possess the land" (Ps 37:11). The word as "nonviolent" rather than "meek." This is a narrowing of the Greek term, which carries a great wealth of tradition. The third Beat.i.tude is practically a Psalm citation: "The meek shall possess the land" (Ps 37:11). The word praus praus in the Greek Bible translates the Hebrew in the Greek Bible translates the Hebrew anawim, anawim, which was used to designate G.o.d's poor, of whom we spoke in connection with the first Beat.i.tude. The first and third Beat.i.tudes thus overlap to a large extent; the third Beat.i.tude further ill.u.s.trates an essential aspect of what is meant by poverty lived from and for G.o.d. which was used to designate G.o.d's poor, of whom we spoke in connection with the first Beat.i.tude. The first and third Beat.i.tudes thus overlap to a large extent; the third Beat.i.tude further ill.u.s.trates an essential aspect of what is meant by poverty lived from and for G.o.d.

The focus is enlarged, though, when we take account of a few other texts in which the same word occurs. In Numbers 12:3 we read: "Now the man Moses was very meek, more than all men that were on the face of the earth." One cannot help thinking of Jesus' saying, "Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am meek and lowly in heart" (Mt 11:29). Christ is the new, the true Moses (this idea runs through the whole Sermon on the Mount). In him there appears the pure goodness that above all befits the great man, the ruler.

We are led even deeper when we consider another set of interconnections between the Old and New Testaments based around the word praus, praus, "meek." In Zech 9:910, we read: "Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble [meek] and riding on an a.s.s, on a colt the foal of an a.s.s. He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim...the battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall command peace to the nations; his dominion shall be from sea to sea, and from the River to the ends of the earth." This pa.s.sage announces a poor king-a king whose rule does not depend on political and military might. His inmost being is humility and meekness before G.o.d and men. In this he is the exact opposite of the great kings of the world. And a vivid ill.u.s.tration is the fact that he rides on an a.s.s-the mount of the poor, the counterimage of the chariot that he rejects. He is the king of peace-and by G.o.d's power, not his own. "meek." In Zech 9:910, we read: "Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble [meek] and riding on an a.s.s, on a colt the foal of an a.s.s. He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim...the battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall command peace to the nations; his dominion shall be from sea to sea, and from the River to the ends of the earth." This pa.s.sage announces a poor king-a king whose rule does not depend on political and military might. His inmost being is humility and meekness before G.o.d and men. In this he is the exact opposite of the great kings of the world. And a vivid ill.u.s.tration is the fact that he rides on an a.s.s-the mount of the poor, the counterimage of the chariot that he rejects. He is the king of peace-and by G.o.d's power, not his own.

There is a further element: His kingdom is universal, it embraces the whole earth. "From sea to sea"-behind this expression is the image of a flat earth surrounded on all sides by the waters, and it thus gives us an inkling of the world-spanning extent of his dominion. Karl Elliger is therefore correct when he says that "through all the fog" we do "glimpse with surprising distinctness the figure of the one who has now really brought the whole world the peace that pa.s.ses all understanding. He has done so in filial obedience: by renouncing violence and accepting suffering until he was released from it by the Father. And so from now on he builds up his kingdom simply by the word of peace" (Das Alte Testament Deutsch, 24/25, p. 151). Only against this backdrop do we grasp the full scope of the account of Palm Sunday, only now do we understand what it means when Luke (and, in a similar vein, John) tells us that Jesus ordered his disciples to procure him a she-a.s.s and her foal: "This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying, 'Tell the daughter of Zion, "Behold, your king is coming to you, [meek] and mounted on an a.s.s, and on a colt, the foal of an a.s.s" '"(Mt 21:45; cf. Jn 12:15). 24/25, p. 151). Only against this backdrop do we grasp the full scope of the account of Palm Sunday, only now do we understand what it means when Luke (and, in a similar vein, John) tells us that Jesus ordered his disciples to procure him a she-a.s.s and her foal: "This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying, 'Tell the daughter of Zion, "Behold, your king is coming to you, [meek] and mounted on an a.s.s, and on a colt, the foal of an a.s.s" '"(Mt 21:45; cf. Jn 12:15).

Unfortunately some translations obscure these interconnections by using different words to translate praus praus. Within the wide arc of these texts-from Numbers 12 through Zechariah 9 to the Beat.i.tudes and the account of Palm Sunday-we can discern the vision of Jesus, the king of peace, who throws open the frontiers separating the peoples and creates a domain of peace "from sea to sea." Through his obedience he calls us into this peace and plants it in us. The word meek meek belongs, on one hand, to the vocabulary of the People of G.o.d, to the Israel that in Christ has come to span the whole world. At the same time, it is a word related to kingship, which unlocks for us the essence of Christ's new kingship. In this sense, we could say that it is both a Christological word and an ecclesiological one. In any case, it is a word that calls us to follow the one whose entry into Jerusalem mounted on an a.s.s reveals the whole essence of his kingship. belongs, on one hand, to the vocabulary of the People of G.o.d, to the Israel that in Christ has come to span the whole world. At the same time, it is a word related to kingship, which unlocks for us the essence of Christ's new kingship. In this sense, we could say that it is both a Christological word and an ecclesiological one. In any case, it is a word that calls us to follow the one whose entry into Jerusalem mounted on an a.s.s reveals the whole essence of his kingship.

In the text of Matthew's Gospel, this third Beat.i.tude is a.s.sociated with the promise of the land: "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the land." What does this statement mean? Hope for the land is part of the original content of the promise to Abraham. During Israel's years of wandering in the desert, the promised land is always envisaged as the goal of the journey. In exile Israel waits for the return to the land. We must not overlook, however, that the promise of the land is clearly about something far greater than the mere idea of possessing a piece of ground or a national territory in the sense that every people is ent.i.tled to do.

The main issue in the foreground of the struggle for liberation prior to Israel's exodus from Egypt is the right to freedom of worship, the people's right to their own liturgy. As time went by, it became increasingly clear that the promise of the land meant this: The land was given as a s.p.a.ce for obedience, a realm of openness to G.o.d, that was to be freed from the abominations of idolatry. The concept of obedience to G.o.d, and so of the right ordering of the earth, is an essential component of the concept of freedom and the concept of the land. From this perspective, the exile, the withdrawal of the land, could also be understood: The land had itself become a zone of idolatry and disobedience, and the possession of the land had therefore become a contradiction.

A new and positive understanding of the diaspora could also arise from this way of thinking: Israel was scattered across the world so that it might everywhere create s.p.a.ce for G.o.d and thus fulfill the purpose of creation suggested by the first creation account (cf. Gen 1:12, 4): The Sabbath is the goal of creation, and it shows what creation is for. The world exists, in other words, because G.o.d wanted to create a zone of response to his love, a zone of obedience and freedom. Step by step, as Israel accepted and suffered all the vicissitudes of its history as G.o.d's people, the idea of the land grew in depth and breadth, shifting its focus increasingly away from national possession and increasingly toward the universality of G.o.d's claim to the earth.

Of course, there is a sense in which the interplay between "meekness" and the promise of the land can also be seen as a perfectly ordinary piece of historical wisdom: Conquerors come and go, but the ones who remain are the simple, the humble, who cultivate the land and continue sowing and harvesting in the midst of sorrows and joys. The humble, the simple, outlast the violent, even from a purely historical point of view. But there is more. The gradual universalization of the concept of the land on the basis of a theology of hope also reflects the universal horizon that we found in the promise of Zechariah: The land of the king of peace is not a nation-state-it stretches from "sea to sea" (Zech 9:10). Peace aims at the overcoming of boundaries and at the renewal of the earth through the peace that comes from G.o.d. The earth ultimately belongs to the meek, to the peaceful, the Lord tells us. It is meant to become the "land of the king of peace." The third Beat.i.tude invites us to orient our lives toward this goal.

Every eucharistic a.s.sembly is for us Christians a place where the king of peace reigns in this sense. The universal communion of Christ's Church is thus a preliminary sketch of the world of tomorrow, which is destined to become a land of Jesus Christ's peace. In this respect, too, the third Beat.i.tude harmonizes closely with the first: It goes some way toward explaining what "Kingdom of G.o.d" means, even though the claim behind this term extends beyond the promise of the land.

With the foregoing remarks, we have already antic.i.p.ated the seventh Beat.i.tude: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of G.o.d" (Mt 5:9). A few observations on the main points of this fundamentally important saying of Jesus may therefore suffice. First of all, we glimpse the events of secular history in the background. In his infancy narrative, Luke had already suggested the contrast between this child and the all-powerful Emperor Augustus, who was renowned as the "savior of the universal human race" and as the great peacemaker. Caesar had already claimed the t.i.tle "bringer of world peace." The faithful in Israel would be reminded of Solomon, whose Hebrew name is rooted in the word for "peace" (shalom). The Lord had promised David: "I will give peace and quiet to Israel in his days.... He shall be my son, and I will be his father" (1 Chron 22:9f.). This brings to the fore a connection between divine Sonship and the kingship of peace: Jesus is the Son, and he is truly Son. He is therefore the true "Solomon"-the bringer of peace. Establishing peace is part of the very essence of Sonship. The seventh Beat.i.tude thus invites us to be and do what the Son does, so that we ourselves may become "sons of G.o.d."

This applies first of all in the context of each person's life. It begins with the fundamental decision that Paul pa.s.sionately begs us to make in the name of G.o.d: "We beseech you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to G.o.d" (2 Cor 5:20). Enmity with G.o.d is the source of all that poisons man; overcoming this enmity is the basic condition for peace in the world. Only the man who is reconciled with G.o.d can also be reconciled and in harmony with himself, and only the man who is reconciled with G.o.d and with himself can establish peace around him and throughout the world. But the political context that emerges from Luke's infancy narrative as well as here in Matthew's Beat.i.tudes indicates the full scope of these words. That there be peace on earth (cf. Lk 2:14) is the will of G.o.d and, for that reason, it is a task given to man as well. The Christian knows that lasting peace is connected with men abiding in G.o.d's eudokia, eudokia, his "good pleasure." The struggle to abide in peace with G.o.d is an indispensable part of the struggle for "peace on earth"; the former is the source of the criteria and the energy for the latter. When men lose sight of G.o.d, peace disintegrates and violence proliferates to a formerly unimaginable degree of cruelty. This we see only too clearly today. his "good pleasure." The struggle to abide in peace with G.o.d is an indispensable part of the struggle for "peace on earth"; the former is the source of the criteria and the energy for the latter. When men lose sight of G.o.d, peace disintegrates and violence proliferates to a formerly unimaginable degree of cruelty. This we see only too clearly today.

Let us go back to the second Beat.i.tude: "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted" (Mt 5:4). Is it good to mourn and to declare mourning blessed? There are two kinds of mourning. The first is the kind that has lost hope, that has become mistrustful of love and of truth, and that therefore eats away and destroys man from within. But there is also the mourning occasioned by the shattering encounter with truth, which leads man to undergo conversion and to resist evil. This mourning heals, because it teaches man to hope and to love again. Judas is an example of the first kind of mourning: Struck with horror at his own fall, he no longer dares to hope and hangs himself in despair. Peter is an example of the second kind: Struck by the Lord's gaze, he bursts into healing tears that plow up the soil of his soul. He begins anew and is himself renewed.

Ezekiel 9:4 offers us a striking testimony to how this positive kind of mourning can counteract the dominion of evil. Six men are charged with executing divine punishment on Jerusalem-on the land that is filled with bloodshed, on the city that is full of wickedness (cf. Ezek 9:9). Before they do, however, a man clothed in linen must trace the Hebrew letter tau tau (like the sign of the Cross) on the foreheads of all those "who sigh and groan over all the abominations that are committed in the city" (Ezek 9:4). Those who bear this mark are exempted from the punishment. They are people who do not run with the pack, who refuse to collude with the injustice that has become endemic, but who suffer under it instead. Even though it is not in their power to change the overall situation, they still counter the dominion of evil through the pa.s.sive resistance of their suffering-through the mourning that sets bounds to the power of evil. (like the sign of the Cross) on the foreheads of all those "who sigh and groan over all the abominations that are committed in the city" (Ezek 9:4). Those who bear this mark are exempted from the punishment. They are people who do not run with the pack, who refuse to collude with the injustice that has become endemic, but who suffer under it instead. Even though it is not in their power to change the overall situation, they still counter the dominion of evil through the pa.s.sive resistance of their suffering-through the mourning that sets bounds to the power of evil.

Tradition has yielded another image of mourning that brings salvation: Mary standing under the Cross with her sister, the wife of Clopas, with Mary Magdalene, and with John (Jn 19:25ff.). Once again, as in the vision of Ezekiel, we encounter here the small band of people who remain true in a world full of cruelty and cynicism or else with fearful conformity. They cannot avert the disaster, but by "suffering with" the one condemned (by their com-pa.s.sion in the etymological sense) they place themselves on his side, and by their "loving with" they are on the side of G.o.d, who is love. This "com-pa.s.sion" reminds us of the magnificent saying in Saint Bernard of Clairvaux's commentary on the Song of Songs (sermon 26, no. 5): "Impa.s.sibilis est Deus, sed non incompa.s.sibilis"-G.o.d cannot suffer, but he can "suffer with with." At the foot of Jesus' Cross we understand better than anywhere else what it means to say "blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." Those who do not harden their hearts to the pain and need of others, who do not give evil entry to their souls, but suffer under its power and so acknowledge the truth of G.o.d-they are the ones who open the windows of the world to let the light in. It is to those who mourn in this sense that great consolation is promised. The second Beat.i.tude is thus intimately connected with the eighth: "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 5:10).

The mourning of which the Lord speaks is nonconformity with evil; it is a way of resisting models of behavior that the individual is pressured to accept because "everyone does it." The world cannot tolerate this kind of resistance; it demands conformity. It considers this mourning to be an accusation directed against the numbing of consciences. And so it is. That is why those who mourn suffer persecution for the sake of righteousness. Those who mourn are promised comfort; those who are persecuted are promised the Kingdom of G.o.d-the same promise that is made to the poor in spirit. The two promises are closely related. The Kingdom of G.o.d-standing under the protection of G.o.d's power, secure in his love-that is true comfort.

The converse is also true. The sufferer is not truly comforted, his tears are not completely wiped away, until he and the powerless of this world are no longer threatened by murderous violence; comfort is not brought to completion until even past sufferings never previously understood are lifted up into the light of G.o.d and given the meaning of reconciliation by his goodness; true comfort only appears when the "last enemy," death (cf. 1 Cor 15:26), and all its accomplices have been stripped of their power. Christ's words about comforting thus help us to understand what he means by "Kingdom of G.o.d" (of the heavens), while "Kingdom of G.o.d" gives us in turn an idea of what consolation the Lord holds in store for all those who mourn and suffer in this world.

There is one further observation that we have to add here. Jesus' words concerning those persecuted for righteousness' sake had a prophetic significance for Matthew and his audience. For them this was the Lord foretelling the situation of the Church which they were living through. The Church had become a persecuted Church, persecuted "for righteousness' sake." Righteousness Righteousness in the language of the Old Covenant is the term for fidelity to the Torah, to the word of G.o.d, as the Prophets were constantly reminding their hearers. It is the observance of the right path shown by G.o.d, with the Ten Commandments at its center. The term that in the New Testament corresponds to the Old Testament concept of righteousness is in the language of the Old Covenant is the term for fidelity to the Torah, to the word of G.o.d, as the Prophets were constantly reminding their hearers. It is the observance of the right path shown by G.o.d, with the Ten Commandments at its center. The term that in the New Testament corresponds to the Old Testament concept of righteousness is faith faith: The man of faith is the "righteous man" who walks in G.o.d's ways (cf. Ps 1; Jer 17:58). For faith is walking with Christ, in whom the whole Law is fulfilled; it unites us with the righteousness of Christ himself.

The people who are persecuted for righteousness' sake are those who live by G.o.d's righteousness-by faith. Because man constantly strives for emanc.i.p.ation from G.o.d's will in order to follow himself alone, faith will always appear as a contradiction to the "world"-to the ruling powers at any given time. For this reason, there will be persecution for the sake of righteousness in every period of history. This word of comfort is addressed to the persecuted Church of all times. In her powerlessness and in her sufferings, she knows that she stands in the place where G.o.d's Kingdom is coming.

If, then, we may once again identify an ecclesiological dimension, an interpretation of the nature of the Church, in the promise attached to this Beat.i.tude, as we did in the case of earlier ones, so too we can identify a Christological basis to these words: The crucified Christ is the persecuted just man portrayed in the words of Old Covenant prophecy-particularly the Suffering Servant Songs-but also prefigured in Plato's writings (The Republic, II 361e362a). And in this guise he himself is the advent of G.o.d's Kingdom. This Beat.i.tude is an invitation to follow the crucified Christ-an invitation to the individual as well as to the Church as a whole.

The Beat.i.tude concerning the persecuted contains, in the words that conclude the whole pa.s.sage, a variant indicating something new. Jesus promises joy, exultation, and a great reward to those who for his sake are reviled, and persecuted, and have all manner of evil uttered falsely against them (cf. Mt 5:11). The "I" of Jesus himself, fidelity to his person, becomes the criterion of righteousness and salvation. In the other Beat.i.tudes, Christology is present, so to speak, in veiled form; here, however, the message that he himself is the center of history emerges openly. Jesus ascribes to his "I" a normative status that no teacher of Israel-indeed, no teacher of the Church-has a right to claim for himself. Someone who speaks like this is no longer a prophet in the traditional sense, an amba.s.sador and trustee of another; he himself is the reference point of the righteous life, its goal and center.

Later in the course of our meditations, we will come to see that this direct Christology is const.i.tutive of the Sermon on the Mount as a whole. What is here only touched upon will be developed further as we proceed.

Let us turn now to one of the two Beat.i.tudes still to be discussed: "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied" (Mt 5:6). This saying is intrinsically related to Jesus' words concerning those who mourn and who will find comfort. In the earlier Beat.i.tude, the ones who receive the promise are those who do not bow to the diktat of the prevailing opinions and customs, but resist it by suffering. Similarly, this Beat.i.tude is concerned with those who are on the lookout, who are in search of something great, of true justice, of the true good. One of the textual strands of the Book of Daniel contains a statement that tradition has come to regard as a synthesis of the att.i.tude that is under consideration here. Daniel is described there as a vir desideriorum vir desideriorum, as a man of longings (Dan 9:23 in the Latin Vulgate). The people this Beat.i.tude describes are those who are not content with things as they are and refuse to stifle the restlessness of heart that points man toward something greater and so sets him on the inward journey to reach it-rather like the wise men from the East seeking Jesus, the star that shows the way to truth, to love, to G.o.d. The people meant here are those whose interior sensitivity enables them to see and hear the subtle signs that G.o.d sends into the world to break the dictatorship of convention.

At this point, who can fail to be reminded of the humble saints in whom the Old Covenant opens itself to the New, and is transformed into it? Of Zachariah and Elizabeth, of Mary and Joseph, of Simeon and Anna, all of whom, in their different ways, await the salvation of Israel with inner watchfulness and who by their humble piety, their patient waiting and longing, "prepare the way" of the Lord? But do we also think of the twelve Apostles-of these men who, though coming (as we will see) from totally different intellectual and social backgrounds, had kept their hearts open amid their work and their everyday lives, ready to respond to the call of something greater? Or of the pa.s.sion for righteousness of a man such as Paul, a misguided pa.s.sion that nonetheless prepared him to be cast down by G.o.d, and so brought to a new clarity of vision? We could continue in this vein throughout the whole of history. Edith Stein once said that anyone who honestly and pa.s.sionately searches for truth is on the way to Christ. It is of such people that the Beat.i.tude speaks-of this thirst and hunger that is blessed because it leads men to G.o.d, to Christ, and therefore opens the world to the Kingdom of G.o.d.

It seems to me that this is the place to say something, based upon the New Testament, about the salvation of those who do not know Christ. The prevailing view today is that everyone should live by the religion-or perhaps by the atheism-in which he happens to find himself already. This, it is said, is the path of salvation for him. Such a view presupposes a strange picture of G.o.d and a strange idea of man and of the right way for man to live. Let us try to clarify this by asking a few practical questions. Does someone achieve blessedness and justification in G.o.d's eyes because he has conscientiously fulfilled the duties of blood vengeance? Because he has vigorously fought for and in "holy war"? Or because he has performed certain animal sacrifices? Or because he has practiced ritual ablutions and other observances? Because he has declared his opinions and wishes to be norms of conscience and so made himself the criterion? No, G.o.d demands the opposite: that we become inwardly attentive to his quiet exhortation, which is present in us and which tears us away from what is merely habitual and puts us on the road to truth. To "hunger and thirst for righteousness"-that is the path that lies open to everyone; that is the way that finds its destination in Jesus Christ.

There is one more Beat.i.tude: "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see G.o.d" (Mt 5:8). The organ for seeing G.o.d is the heart. The intellect alone is not enough. In order for man to become capable of perceiving G.o.d, the energies of his existence have to work in harmony. His will must be pure and so too must the underlying affective dimension of his soul, which gives intelligence and will their direction. Speaking of the heart heart in this way means precisely that man's perceptive powers play in concert, which also requires the proper interplay of body and soul, since this is essential for the totality of the creature we call "man." Man's fundamental affective disposition actually depends on just this unity of body and soul and on man's acceptance of being both body and spirit. This means he places his body under the discipline of the spirit, yet does not isolate intellect or will. Rather, he accepts himself as coming from G.o.d, and thereby also acknowledges and lives out the bodiliness of his existence as an enrichment for the spirit. The heart-the wholeness of man-must be pure, interiorly open and free, in order for man to be able to see G.o.d. Theophilus of Antioch (d. ca. 180) once put it like this in a debate with some disputants: "If you say, 'show me your G.o.d,' I should like to answer you, 'show me the man who is in you.'...For G.o.d is perceived by men who are capable of seeing him, who have the eyes of their spirit open.... Man's soul must be as pure as a shining mirror" ( in this way means precisely that man's perceptive powers play in concert, which also requires the proper interplay of body and soul, since this is essential for the totality of the creature we call "man." Man's fundamental affective disposition actually depends on just this unity of body and soul and on man's acceptance of being both body and spirit. This means he places his body under the discipline of the spirit, yet does not isolate intellect or will. Rather, he accepts himself as coming from G.o.d, and thereby also acknowledges and lives out the bodiliness of his existence as an enrichment for the spirit. The heart-the wholeness of man-must be pure, interiorly open and free, in order for man to be able to see G.o.d. Theophilus of Antioch (d. ca. 180) once put it like this in a debate with some disputants: "If you say, 'show me your G.o.d,' I should like to answer you, 'show me the man who is in you.'...For G.o.d is perceived by men who are capable of seeing him, who have the eyes of their spirit open.... Man's soul must be as pure as a shining mirror" (Ad Autolyc.u.m, I, 2, 7ff.). I, 2, 7ff.).

This prompts the question: How is man's inner eye purified? How to remove the cataract that blurs his vision or even blinds it altogether? The mystical tradition that speaks of a "way of purification" ascending to final "union" was an attempt to answer this question. The Beat.i.tudes have to be read first and foremost in the context of the Bible. There, we meet the motif of purity of heart above all in Psalm 24, which reflects an ancient gate liturgy: "Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD? And who shall stand in his holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is false, and does not swear deceitfully" (Ps 24:34). Before the gate of the Temple, the question arises as to who may enter and stand in proximity to the living G.o.d. Clean hands and a pure heart are the condition.

The Psalm explains in many different ways the content of this condition for admission to G.o.d's dwelling place. One fundamental condition is that those who would enter into G.o.d's presence must inquire after him, must seek his face (Ps 24:6). The fundamental condition thus proves to be the same att.i.tude that we saw earlier, described by the phrase "hunger and thirst for righteousness." Inquiring after G.o.d, seeking his face-that is the first and fundamental condition for the ascent that leads to the encounter with G.o.d. Even before that, however, the Psalm specifies that clean hands and a pure heart entail man's refusal to deceive or commit perjury; this requires honesty, truthfulness, and justice toward one's fellow men and toward the community-what we might call social ethics, although it actually reaches right down into the depths of the heart.

Psalm 15 elaborates further on this, and hence we can say that the condition for admission to G.o.d's presence is simply the content of the Decalogue-with an emphasis on the inward search for G.o.d, on journeying toward him (first tablet) and on love of neighbor, on justice toward the individual and the community (second tablet). No conditions specifically involving knowledge of Revelation are enumerated, only "inquiring after G.o.d" and the basic tenets of justice that a vigilant conscience-stirred into activity by the search for G.o.d-conveys to everyone. Our earlier reflection on the question of salvation finds further confirmation here.

On Jesus' lips, though, these words acquire new depth. For it belongs to his nature that he sees G.o.d, that he stands face-to-face with him, in permanent interior discourse-in a relation of Sonship. In other words, this Beat.i.tude is profoundly Christological. We will see G.o.d when we enter into the "mind of Christ" (Phil 2:5). Purification of heart occurs as a consequence of following Christ, of becoming one with him. "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me" (Gal 2:20). And at this point something new comes to light: The ascent to G.o.d occurs precisely in the descent of humble service, in the descent of love, for love is G.o.d's essence, and is thus the power that truly purifies man and enables him to perceive G.o.d and to see him. In Jesus Christ, G.o.d has revealed himself in his descending: "Though he was in the form of G.o.d," he "did not count equality with G.o.d a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.... He humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore G.o.d has highly exalted him" (Phil 2:69).

These words mark a decisive turning point in the history of mysticism. They indicate what is new in Christian mysticism, which comes from what is new in the Revelation of Jesus Christ. G.o.d descends, to the point of death on the Cross. And precisely by doing so, he reveals himself in his true divinity. We ascend to G.o.d by accompanying him on this descending path. In this context, the "gate liturgy" in Psalm 24 receives a new significance: The pure heart is the loving heart that enters into communion of service and obedience with Jesus Christ. Love is the fire that purifies and unifies intellect, will, and emotion, thereby making man one with himself, inasmuch as it makes him one in G.o.d's eyes. Thus, man is able to serve the uniting of those who are divided. This is how man enters G.o.d's dwelling place and becomes able to see him. And that is just what it means for him to be "blessed."

After this attempt to penetrate somewhat more deeply into the interior vision of the Beat.i.tudes (the theme of the "merciful" is addressed not in this chapter, but in connection with the parable of the Good Samaritan), we must still briefly ask ourselves two questions that pertain to the understanding of the whole. In Luke's Gospel, the four Beat.i.tudes that he presents are followed by four proclamations of woe: "Woe to you who are rich.... Woe to you who are full now.... Woe to you who laugh now.... Woe to you when all men praise you" (Lk 6:2426). These words terrify us. What are we to think of them?

Now, the first thing to say is that Jesus is here following the pattern that is also found in Jeremiah 17 and Psalm 1: After an account of the right path that leads man to salvation, there follows a warning sign to caution against the opposite path. This warning sign unmasks false promises and false offers; it is meant to save man from following a path that can only lead him fatally over the precipice. We will find the same thing again in the parable of the rich man and Lazarus.

If we have correctly understood the signposts of hope that we found in the Beat.i.tudes, we recognize that here we are dealing simply with the opposite att.i.tudes, which lock man into mere outward appearance, into provisionality, into the loss of his highest and deepest qualities and hence into the loss of G.o.d and neighbor-the path to ruin. Now we come to understand the real intention of this warning sign: The proclamations of woe are not condemnations; they are not an expression of hatred, or of envy, or of hostility. The point is not condemnation, but a warning that is intended to save.

But now the fundamental question arises: Is the direction the Lord shows us in the Beat.i.tudes and in the corresponding warnings actually the right one? Is it really such a bad thing to be rich, to eat one's fill, to laugh, to be praised? Friedrich Nietzsche trained his angry critique precisely on this aspect of Christianity. It is not Christian doctrine that needs to be critiqued, he says, it is Christian morality that needs to be exposed as a "capital crime against life." And by "Christian morality," Nietzsche means precisely the direction indicated by the Sermon on the Mount.

"What has been the greatest sin on earth so far? Surely the words of the man who said 'Woe to those who laugh now'?" And, against Christ's promises, he says that we don't want the Kingdom of heaven. "We've become grown men, and so we want the kingdom of earth."

Nietzsche sees the vision of the Sermon on the Mount as a religion of resentment, as the envy of the cowardly and incompetent, who are unequal to life's demands and try to avenge themselves by blessing their failure and cursing the strong, the successful, and the happy. Jesus' wide perspective is countered with a narrow this-worldliness-with the will to get the most out of the world and what life has to offer now, to seek heaven here, and to be uninhibited by any scruples while doing so.

Much of this has found its way into the modern mind-set and to a large extent shapes how our contemporaries feel about life. Thus, the Sermon on the Mount poses the question of the fundamental Christian option, and, as children of our time, we feel an inner resistance to it-even though we are still touched by Jesus' praise of the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers, the pure. Knowing now from experience how brutally totalitarian regimes have trampled upon human beings and despised, enslaved, and struck down the weak, we have also gained a new appreciation of those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; we have rediscovered the soul of those who mourn and their right to be comforted. As we witness the abuse of economic power, as we witness the cruelties of a capitalism that degrades man to the level of merchandise, we have also realized the perils of wealth, and we have gained a new appreciation of what Jesus meant when he warned of riches, of the man-destroying divinity Mammon, which grips large parts of the world in a cruel stranglehold. Yes indeed, the Beat.i.tudes stand opposed to our spontaneous sense of existence, our hunger and thirst for life. They demand "conversion"-that we inwardly turn around to go in the opposite direction from the one we would spontaneously like to go in. But this U-turn brings what is pure and n.o.ble to the fore and gives a proper ordering to our lives.

The Greek world, whose zest for life is wonderfully portrayed in the Homeric epics, was nonetheless deeply aware that man's real sin, his deepest temptation, is hubris-the arrogant presumption of autonomy that leads man to put on the airs of divinity, to claim to be his own G.o.d, in order to possess life totally and to draw from it every last drop of what it has to offer. This awareness that man's true peril consists in the temptation to ostentatious self-sufficiency, which at first seems so plausible, is brought to its full depth in the Sermon on the Mount in light of the figure of Christ.

We have seen that the Sermon on the Mount is a hidden Christology. Behind the Sermon on the Mount stands the figure of Christ, the man who is G.o.d, but who, precisely because he is G.o.d, descends, empties himself, all the way to death on the Cross. The saints, from Paul through Francis of a.s.sisi down to Mother Teresa, have lived out this option and have thereby shown us the correct image of man and his happiness. In a word, the true morality of Christianity is love. And love does admittedly run counter to self-seeking-it is an exodus out of oneself, and yet this is precisely the way in which man comes to himself. Compared with the tempting l.u.s.ter of Nietzsche's image of man, this way seems at first wretched, and thoroughly unreasonable. But it is the real high road of life; it is only on the way of love, whose paths are described in the Sermon on the Mount, that the richness of life and the greatness of man's calling are opened up.

THE T TORAH OF THE M MESSIAH"You Have Heard That It Was Said...

But I Say to You..."

The Messiah was expected to bring a renewed Torah-his Torah. Paul may be alluding to this in the Letter to the Galatians when he speaks of the "law of Christ" (Gal 6:2). His great, pa.s.sionate defense of freedom from the Law culminates in the following statement in chapter 5: "For freedom Christ has set us free; stand fast therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery" (Gal 5:1). But when he goes on to repeat at 5:13 the claim that "you were called to freedom," he adds, "Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love be servants of one another" (Gal 5:13). And now he explains what freedom is-namely, freedom in the service of good, freedom that allows itself to be led by the Spirit of G.o.d. It is precisely by letting oneself be led by G.o.d's Spirit, moreover, that one becomes free from the Law. Immediately after this Paul details what the freedom of the Spirit actually consists in and what is incompatible with it. Torah. Paul may be alluding to this in the Letter to the Galatians when he speaks of the "law of Christ" (Gal 6:2). His great, pa.s.sionate defense of freedom from the Law culminates in the following statement in chapter 5: "For freedom Christ has set us free; stand fast therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery" (Gal 5:1). But when he goes on to repeat at 5:13 the claim that "you were called to freedom," he adds, "Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love be servants of one another" (Gal 5:13). And now he explains what freedom is-namely, freedom in the service of good, freedom that allows itself to be led by the Spirit of G.o.d. It is precisely by letting oneself be led by G.o.d's Spirit, moreover, that one becomes free from the Law. Immediately after this Paul details what the freedom of the Spirit actually consists in and what is incompatible with it.

The "law of Christ" is freedom-that is the paradox of Paul's message in the Letter to the Galatians. This freedom has content, then, it has direction, and it therefore contradicts what only apparently liberates man, but in truth makes him a slave. The "Torah of the Messiah" is totally new and different-but it is precisely by being such that it fulfills the Torah of Moses.

The greater part of the Sermon on the Mount (cf. Mt 5:177:27) is devoted to the same topic: After a programmatic introduction in the form of the Beat.i.tudes, it goes on to present, so to speak, the Torah of the Messiah. Even in terms of the addressees and the actual intentions of the text, there is an a.n.a.logy with the Letter to the Galatians: Paul writes there to Jewish Christians who have begun to wonder whether continued observance of the whole Torah as. .h.i.therto understood may in fact be necessary after all.

This uncertainty affected above all circ.u.mcision, the commandments concerning food, the whole area of prescriptions relating to purity, and how to keep the Sabbath. Paul sees these ideas as a return to the status quo before the messianic revolution, a relapse in which the essential content of this revolution is lost-namely, the universalization of the People of G.o.d, as a result of which Israel can now embrace all the peoples of the world; the G.o.d of Israel has truly been brought to the nations, in accordance with the promises, and has now shown that he is the G.o.d of them all, the one G.o.d.

The flesh-physical descent from Abraham-is no longer what matters; rather, it is the spirit: belonging to the heritage of Israel's faith and life through communion with Jesus Christ, who "spiritualizes" the Law and in so doing makes it the path to life for all. In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus speaks to his people, to Israel, as to the first bearer of the promise. But in giving them the new Torah, he opens them up, in order to bring to birth a great new family of G.o.d drawn from Israel and the Gentiles.

Matthew wrote his Gospel for Jewish Christians and, more widely, for the Jewish world, in order to renew this great impulse that Jesus had initiated. Through his Gospel, Jesus speaks to Israel in a new and ongoing manner. In the historical setting in which Matthew writes, he speaks in a very particular way to Jewish Christians, who thereby recognize both the novelty and the continuity of the history of G.o.d's dealings with mankind, beginning with Abraham and undergoing a revolution with Jesus. In this way they are to find the path of life.

But what does this Torah of the Messiah actually look like? At the very beginning there stands, as a sort of epigraph and interpretive key, a statement that never ceases to surprise us. It makes G.o.d's fidelity to himself and Jesus' fidelity to the faith of Israel unmistakably clear: "Think not that I have come to abolish the Law and the Prophets; I have come not to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly, I say to you, till heaven and earth pa.s.s away, not an iota, not a dot, will pa.s.s from the Law until all is accomplished. Whoever then relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but he who does them and teaches them shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 5:1719).

The intention is not to abolish, but to fulfill, and this fulfillment demands a surplus, not a deficit, of righteousness, as Jesus immediately goes on to say: "Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 5:20). Is the point, then, merely increased rigor in obeying the Law? What else is this greater righteousness if not that?

True, at the beginning of this "relecture"-this new reading of essential portions of the Torah-there is an emphasis on extreme fidelity and unbroken continuity. Yet as we listen further, we are struck by Jesus' presentation of the relationship of Moses' Torah to the Torah of the Messiah in a series of ant.i.theses: "It was said to them of old...but I say to you..." Jesus' "I" is accorded a status that no teacher of the Law can legitimately allow himself. The crowd feels this-Matthew tells us explicitly that the people "were alarmed" at his way of teaching. He teaches not as the rabbis do, but as one who has "authority" (Mt 7:28; cf. Mk 1:22; Lk 4:32). Obviously this does not refer to the rhetorical quality of Jesus' discourses, but rather to the open claim that he himself is on the same exalted level as the Lawgiver-as G.o.d. The people's "alarm" (the RSV translation unfortunately tones this down to "astonishment") is precisely over the fact that a human being dares to speak with the authority of G.o.d. Either he is misappropriating G.o.d's majesty-which would be terrible-or else, and this seems almost inconceivable, he really does stand on the same exalted level as G.o.d.

How, then, are we to understand this Torah of the Messiah? Which path does it point toward? What does it tell us about Jesus, about Israel, about the Church? What does it say about us, and to us? In my search for answers, I have been greatly helped by the book I mentioned earlier by the Jewish scholar Jacob Neusner: A Rabbi Talks with Jesus A Rabbi Talks with Jesus.

Neusner, a believing Jew and rabbi, grew up with Catholic and Protestant friends, teaches with Christian theologians at the university, and is deeply respectful of the faith of his Christian colleagues. He remains, however, profoundly convinced of the validity of the Jewish interpretation of Holy Scripture. His reverence for the Christian faith and his fidelity to Judaism prompted him to seek a dialogue with Jesus.

In this book, he takes his place among the crowds of Jesus' disciples on the "mount" in Galilee. He listens to Jesus and compares his words with those of the Old Testament and with the rabbinic traditions as set down in the Mishnah and Talmud. He sees in these works an oral tradition going back to the beginnings, which gives him the key to interpreting the Torah. He listens, he compares, and he speaks with Jesus himself. He is touched by the greatness and the purity of what is said, and yet at the same time he is troubled by the ultimate incompatibility that he finds at the heart of the Sermon on the Mount. He then accompanies Jesus on his journey to Jerusalem and listens as Jesus' words return to the same ideas and develop them further. He constantly tries to understand; he is constantly moved by the greatness of Jesus; again and again he talks with him. But in the end he decides not to follow Jesus. He remains-as he himself puts it-with the "eternal Israel."

The rabbi's dialogue with Jesus shows that faith in the word of G.o.d in the Holy Scriptures creates a contemporaneous bond across the ages: Setting out from Scripture, the rabbi can enter into the "today" of Jesus, just as Jesus, setting out from Scripture, can enter into our "today." This dialogue is conducted with great honesty. It highlights the differences in all their sharpness, but it also takes place in great love. The rabbi accepts the otherness of Jesus' message, and takes his leave free of any rancor; this parting, accomplished in the rigor of truth, is ever mindful of the reconciling power of love.

Let us try to draw out the essential points of this conversation in order to know Jesus and to understand our Jewish brothers better. The central point, it seems to me, is wonderfully revealed in one of the most moving scenes that Neusner presents in his book. In his interior dialogue Neusner has just spent the whole day following Jesus, and now he retires for prayer and Torah study with the Jews of a certain town, in order to discuss with the rabbi of that place-once again he is thinking in terms of contemporaneity across the millennia-all that he has heard. The rabbi cites from the Babylonian Talmud: "Rabbi Simelai expounded: 'Six hundred and thirteen commandments were given to Moses, three hundred and sixty-five negative ones, corresponding to the number of the days of the solar year, and two hundred forty-eight positive commandments, corresponding to the parts of man's body.

"'David came and reduced them to eleven....

"'Isaiah came and reduced them to six....

"'Isaiah again came and reduced them to two....

"'Habakkuk further came and based them on one, as it is said: "But the righteous shall live by his faith"' (Hab 2:4)."

Neusner then continues his book with the following dialogue: "'So,' the master says, 'is this what the sage, Jesus, had to say?'

"I: 'Not exactly, but close.'

"He: 'What did he leave out?'

"I: 'Nothing.'

"He: 'Then what did he add?'

"I: 'Himself'" (pp. 1078). This is the central point where the believing Jew Neusner experiences alarm at Jesus' message, and this is the central reason why he does n