M E R I D I A N     M A G A Z I N E

The Beatitudes: Poem of Hope and Irony
(Part 2 – Substance)
By Doug Talley

Read Part One

Of the more ironic mistranslations of the English Bible is Paul’s famous statement – in times past proverbial and now perhaps a little hackneyed – we see through a glass darkly. Some of the mistranslation has occurred simply through corruption of time. A “glass” in Elizabethan England was another word for “mirror”, which is the meaning of the original Greek word esoptron (esoptron), and so the scholars commissioned by King James certainly did not err in using the word “glass” for “mirror” when they originally translated the passage, although the usage now is antiquated and likely confusing to many. Additionally, in a wonderfully strange and compelling translation, the word rendered as “darkly” is the Greek noun ainigma (ainigma), from which we derive the English word “enigma”. The Greek means “a dark saying” or “a riddle.”  The original passage in 1 Corinthians 13:12 reads:

Other possible translations might be:

For we see now through a mirror in a riddle, or
For now we see through a mirror enigmatically

A Mirror in the Beatitudes

The Beatitudes of Jesus, as found in Matthew 5, Luke 6 and 3 Nephi 12, no less than any of his other sayings, present just such a riddle in a mirror. Separately and collectively, they stand as a wonderful poem, an absolute classic of literature, and perhaps the greatest statement of hope ever offered to humanity. And yet, paradoxically, they are rich with a kind of Christ-like irony as well. Every person will entertain a different judgment, because, like a mirror to the individual soul, what a reader takes from the Beatitudes will in no small measure reflect his or her own spiritual maturity.

And examination of the riddle might begin with the first key words in Luke’s Greek version: Blessed are the poor.  The Greek of this passage in Luke 6:20 reads simply:

Blessed (are) the poor

Rich with shades of meaning, the word translated as “blessed” is makarioi (makarioi) and also means “happy” or “fortunate”. Similarly rich with suggestion, the word translated as “poor” is ptokoi (ptwcoi), meaning “beggarly” or “poor” as an adjective, and as a noun, “one who crouches or cringes”, one who is a “beggar.” As Luke presents the words of Christ here, no paradox was ever more concise, if not more poignant: Fortunate the poor, or Fortunate the beggars, or essentially, Fortunate are the misfortunate.  The Greek nuance is particularly pathetic, “blessed are those who cringe and scrape like a beggar.”

The version in Matthew clarifies this particular saying by indicating that Christ is referring to our spiritual condition, not our temporal condition: Blessed are the poor in spirit. (Matthew 5:3). And the Nephite version adds greater clarity still, Blessed are the poor in spirit who come unto me (Christ). (3 Nephi 12:3). This last text explains the paradox and gives a context for dealing with it, but does not eliminate it. Certainly, it is our good fortune, and a state of blessedness, to come to Christ at all. In the Gospels this is the necessary precondition for transforming the misfortune of spiritual poverty into blessedness. But the Greek still suggests that the spiritual attitude and posture by which we approach Christ are those of an abject beggar, that is, “with a broken heart and a contrite spirit.” The irony of blessedness in poverty remains; intimacy with Christ simply reconciles the irony.

Blessedness or happiness, Christ tells us, results from a variety of human situations, some of which are so rich with irony as to be almost painful. The irony is evident in English, but after years of familiarity, that irony may now seem commonplace. Referring to variations of the original Greek helps to burnish that irony anew. We examine what might be lost in translation: 

Blessed (are) those who mourn or weep, or essentially,
Happy (are) the sad

Fortunate (are) the hunted, or
Happy are you when hated

The Argentinean writer, Jorge Luis Borges, correctly assessed the irony here, when he wrote: In the Gospels, salvation is an ethical process. Righteousness is fundamental; humility, misery, and misfortune are also praised (Borges, Selected Non-Ficitions, “Emanuel Swedenborg, Mystical Works,” Penguin Books, p. 455). In the Beatitudes, not only are “misery and misfortune … praised,” but also to be desired, and Christ himself tells us to rejoice and leap for joy when reviled.

The Process of Salvation

The ethical process of salvation that Borges cites in the four Gospels is succinctly, if subtly, stated in the Beatitudes alone.  A reader need not look much beyond the eight couplets of the Matthew or Nephite version of the Beatitudes to absorb the entire, sweeping doctrine of salvation in one, brief poem. Consider the version in 3 Nephi 12:3-10:

Yea, blessed are the poor in spirit who come unto me,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

And again, blessed are all they that mourn,
for they shall be comforted.

And blessed are the meek,
for they shall inherit the earth.

And blessed are all they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness,
for they shall be filled with the Holy Ghost.

And blessed are the merciful,
for they shall obtain mercy.

And blessed are all the pure in heart,
for they shall see God.

And blessed are the peacemakers,
for they shall be called the children of God.

And blessed are all they who are persecuted for my name’s sake,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

While each of these couplets may stand alone as a spiritual principle, each subsequent couplet builds from the previous to articulate, line upon line and precept upon precept, both the daily and life-long process of spiritual enlightenment. As stated in the Bible Dictionary of the Latter-day Saint Standard Works, the Beatitudes “describe certain elements that go to form the refined and spiritual character, and all of which will be present whenever that character exists in its perfection. Rather than being isolated statements, the Beatitudes are interrelated and progressive in their arrangement.” (p. 620). 

The first couplet answers the dilemma of spiritual poverty by proposing faith in Christ. As a natural progression, the next two couplets suggest that the exercise of faith in Christ leads to humility and repentance − a mourning for past transgressions and a desire for meekness.  From this effort at repentance follows a desire for righteousness, and if acted upon, a reception of that Spirit which is holy. Reception of the Holy Ghost leads to feelings, thoughts, and acts of mercy and compassion, until this sanctification process evolves into such purity of heart that the disciple comes to see God. What remains after this ultimate epiphany is perseverance − the strength and stamina to make peace out of conflict, and finally to endure to the end, even if efforts toward peace are answered with persecution. The Beatitudes describe the process of faith, humility, repentance, sanctification and endurance, essentially, the process of salvation, step by step. 

Another Look in the Mirror

This process of spiritual refinement, and the self-awareness of that process, is magnificently described by Dante in the Paradiso, Canto XVIII, ll. 52-60. As he was moving in paradise from the fifth sphere, the heaven of Mars, to the sixth sphere, the heaven of Jupiter, he stated:

Io mi rivolsi dal mio destro lato
Per vedere in Beatrice il mio dovere
O per parlare o per atto segnato;

E vidi le sue luci tanto mere,
Tanto gioconde, che la sua sembianza
Vinceva li altri e l’ultimo solere.

E come, per sentire più dilettanza
Bene operando, l’uom di giorno in giorno
s’accorge che la sua virtute avanza

sì m’accors’ io che ‘l mio girar dintorno
col cielo insieme avea cresciuto l’arco,
veggendo quell miracol più adorno.

Or, as translated by John Ciardi:

I turned to my right to learn from Beatrice,
whether by word or sign, what I should do,
and I beheld her eyes shine with such bliss,

with such serenity, that she surpassed
the vision of every other accustomed beauty
in which she had shone, including even the last.

And as a man, perceiving day by day
an increase of delight in doing good,
begins to sense his soul is gaining way –

so, seeing that Miracle surpass the mark
of former beauty, I sensed that I was turning,
together with Heaven, through a greater arc. 

(John Ciardi, The Paradiso, The New American Library, 1970, pp. 206-207)

A more literal, though admittedly less lyrical, translation of the passage of interest might be: 

And as, from feeling more delight
In well-doing, a man day by day
Grows aware his virtue increases,

So I was aware that my circle
With heaven increased its arc ....

The process described here, the process of increasing spiritual development, is cyclical in nature. By looking to Beatrice as his guide, Dante was swept to ever-widening arcs of heaven, just as a man is elevated by a growing awareness of his own increasing virtue. In our own lower world, we circle through opposite ends of a spectrum regularly, the sweet and bitter, the happy and the sad, the hopeful and the ironic. As virtue deepens, so does irony, because the differences between sweet and bitter become more poignant.  Nevertheless, it is also true that as virtue deepens, so does hope. The struggle for sanctification entitles one to sense a growth in righteousness, measured by the feeling of how much delight is taken in doing good. 

The experiences of this life that grant wisdom are a mixture of bitter and sweet. The Beatitudes of Jesus assume this dichotomy implicitly and teach how the bitter is balanced with the sweet and ultimately overcome – “temprando col dolce l’acerbo” in the words of Dante, “tempering with the sweet, the acerbic.”  (Il Paradiso, Canto XVIII, l. 3). If the Beatitudes describe elements of the refined, spiritual character, which are present when such character exists in perfection, then the question may be asked, are they a defining statement of the personality of Jesus as well? Let every soul answer privately and alone. In the mirror of the Beatitudes stands the figure of Christ, and we may well ask, when we look into that “glass darkly” – that wonderful, enigmatic mirror – do we see him and our reflection in him, or rather some other image.