Pentecost 16
30 August 2026
Vineville Baptist Church
Macon, Georgia
W. Gregory Pope
HORSES, HOBBITS, AND GAMBLERS
Matthew 5.5. Psalm 37. Matthew 27.11-14
When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he sat down, his disciples came to him, and he began to speak and taught them, saying: “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”
It has to be the most unpopular beatitude. The problem is our misunderstanding of the word “meek”. “Meek” makes us think of cowardly people, afraid of their own shadows, the doormat everybody wipes their feet on. But the meek are not those who cave in to every whim of society, who let themselves be trampled by the boss, who endure cruel abuse at the hands of a dominating spouse. They do not allow themselves to be dragged along by the tides of political power or to be led by the smell of money. Meekness in the Bible did not mean weakness.
Scripture describes only two people as meek. One is Moses, who the Bible describes as “very meek, more than all people who were on the face of the earth.” Moses was meek when he stood up to the Egyptian Pharaoh in confrontation after confrontation. The second is Jesus who was meek when he withstood the temptations in the wilderness, set his face to go to Jerusalem to die, and cleared the temple. And at the end, in the garden, he prays, “Abba, please take this cup from me if it is your will. But not my will, Lord, Let your will be done.” And then hours later as Jesus stood before Pilate, his body had been abused, his face was bleeding, but he stood there as if he were the one in control. One thing for sure: he was always, always in control of himself. The familiar phrase “Gentle Jesus meek and mild” shows a lack of understanding of both Jesus and meekness. Moses and Jesus – neither one was a doormat or push-over. Both stood up in strength against the powerful and gave themselves completely to God.
This is not a popular beatitude because it is the opposite of the way we often think. The opposite of “Blessed are the meek” is “Blessed are the arrogant, aggressive, manipulative, those who demand position and control.” And there is control in this beatitude, but it’s not having control of events or others; it’s having control of one’s self.
The Greek word praus translated “meek” was used to describe a wild stallion that has learned to be ridden. A horse jockey once said: “The secret to riding a horse and winning a race is in controlling all of his power. If you’re not careful,” he said, “the horse will try to control. You have to control the horse. You have to guide the horse. You have to slow the horse down.”
God has empowered us. God has given us power to make decisions. God has chosen not to control us. And we live a blessed life when we allow God to harness the strength and strong emotions of our lives and to use it for our benefit and for God’s benefit and for others.
We need our strength and emotions under control in order to make wise choices.
An old Kenny Rogers song expressed the meaning and wisdom of this Beatitude at a poker table no less as he sang: “You gotta know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when
to walk away, know when to run.” Sometimes life’s decisions get really hard and complex. Only those with their power and emotions under control, disciplined by the Spirit of Christ can make the wisest decisions.
In this beatitude I prefer the word “gentle” instead of “meek”: “Blessed are the gentle.” Power under control.
As a white American I cannot begin imagine the longsuffering patience of African Americans. The tenacity and strength of our black sisters and brothers is a marvel and a miracle.
As a baseball fan when I think of gentleness of think of Jackie Robinson. In 1947, Dodgers owner Branch Rickey was looking to cross the color barrier in baseball and he needed an athlete strong enough to overcome insults and hardships. Jackie Robinson was that guy, withstanding racist taunts from opponents and the crowds with amazing gentleness, self-control, and passionate determination.
Gentleness is the strength of those who can handle offense without lashing out in retaliation, those strong enough to resist nonviolently. Gentleness is being strong enough to allow God’s mercy to shape our response to others, strong enough not to want what we are told to want.
The gentleness of Jesus was strong to defend the weak and most vulnerable in his midst. And he calls out to us: Take my yoke upon you and learn of me for I am gentle (same word as the beatitude) and lowly in heart and you will find rest for your souls.
What is this yoke of gentleness? Gentleness is its own kind of strength. It is the strength of self-restraint. It is the restraint of own’s power, so that it does not hurt or damage others. And we need the strength of Jesus to help us with this kind of restraint.
Blessed are the gentle, for they shall inherit the earth. What does it mean to inherit the earth, this kingdom with no geographical boundaries?
When Jesus was offering this beatitude, he clearly had Psalm 37 in mind. Could you overhear today’s beatitude in the psalm I read earlier? It describes the meekness of a gentle soul: Trust in the Lord, and do good, so you will dwell in the land and enjoy security . . . Commit your way to the Lord and God will act . . . Refrain from anger and forsake wrath. Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil . . . But the meek will inherit the earth and delight themselves in abundant prosperity. The meek of this psalm are viewed as those who trust in the Lord, commit their way to the Lord, wait for the Lord and keep God’s ways.
But to think that the meek and gentle will inherit the earth – isn’t that just wishful thinking? We all know that it is the wealthy tyrants, the plunderers of the earth, and the invaders of lands that seem to have the upper hand most times.
However, Jesus dares to say that the earth does not belong to the self-centered who try to possess it, but to those who are willing to let go of possessiveness. The reason the gentle will inherit the earth is that they would never think of taking it for themselves. Ultimately, the earth belongs to God. And if we belong to God, if we are indeed heirs of God, then what is God’s is ours. Eugene Peterson paraphrases this beatitude, “You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are – no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.”
How do the gentle inherit the land? To inherit the land does not mean to own it. It means to enjoy it, love it and care for it, and to live gently upon it. To look and see the land everyday as a gift from God and not a possession. Jesus is getting at something essential here: all ownership is temporal. We are all of us only stewards. The land remains long after we’ve become the dust we came from. Our possession is an illusion. Only God possesses anything. Any power we’re born into or gain throughout our lives is a mirage.
Tolkien’s hobbits know this. His famous books and films: The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy narrate the exploits of hobbits – small characters who have no epic ambitions at all. They are childlike in stature, content to stick to the Shire. They feel no urges to own much or travel anywhere.
So why do we adore and cheer for these hobbits? And why is their unlikely triumph over evil so exciting? Is it more than merely pulling for the underdog? Perhaps Tolkien makes them small creatures in order to challenge our obsession with largeness. For the hobbits, bigger does not mean better, and small can indeed be beautiful. The hobbits live not in a towering fortress, but in small earthen huts. Hobbits are shy of the Big People. They are not consumers. They give presents to others on their own birthdays. Lacking in lust for power, they are the ideal ones to destroy the ring of power. For they alone don’t want power, which corrupts those who pant for it in their desire to be even bigger. They do not advance their own private agendas, they are not competitive, they’re not trying to get ahead of others.
Hobbits would not make good Americans. The world competes and compares, beats and gets beaten, grabs and measures. But the gentle are near enough to Jesus to choose a better way. Together they are all of them a new family of kindness and sharing.
One thing that is often missed in this beatitude is that the Greek word for “gentle” is not singular. Jesus is not talking about an individual solitary, isolated, marginalized. Jesus uses the plural, suggesting a community, some sense of belonging among the gentle. When Jesus pledges the earth itself to the gentle, he has no plans to divvy it up so each individual gentle person can have a little slice of the pie. A new family is being birthed and the gentle ones inherit the earth together.
In the 1970s a Baptist church plant started in an office building on the Upper West Side of New York City. Their small community met weekly for worship and shared a simple meal together. When they had finished they took leftovers to the hungry at the park across the street. Then they started preparing the meal specifically for their hungry neighbors instead. Quickly, they became a church who serves, and together they took turns staying overnight at the Covenant House shelter in Hell’s Kitchen, a place I actually spent a day and a night on a mission trip in college.
One morning, heading to the train after their shelter stay, they passed by an old Catholic church building for sale. They stood there looking at the building and the neighborhood and they commented to each other: “Homeless people down the block. Prostitutes on the corner. Crack dealers across the street. What a great place for a church!” So Metro Baptist Church moved to W 40th St. They gathered to receive the keys to their new home and to pray. The pastor stood across the street, in full view of the building and prayed, “Lord, don’t give us this building if we can’t put it to your use 24/7.” And from Metro’s beginning, they have sought to give everything they have for God’s kingdom. They started a food pantry and clothes closet. When they added their after school program to the slate of community services, they incorporated a nonprofit called Rauschenbusch Metro Ministries.
For decades, their building has been used to feed, clothe, teach, house, empower, grow, inspire, imagine. It has been a safe, protective space for those escaping domestic violence. When they repeat the words each week, “Thy Kingdom come . . . on earth as it is in heaven,” Metro Baptist Church hears its calling. They commit all they are and everything they have to being part of ushering in God’s kingdom, and they don’t hold back.
I’ve sometimes wondered: What if the Beatitudes were the by-laws of a church? What could be possible if we fully gave ourselves over to God? We’d be the kind of church Jesus wants.
To be meek and gentle is to trust what we cannot see. And the more we do it, the more we wake up to what’s possible when we trust. After all, if we know God is love, then do we risk losing anything in handing our life, our church over to God?
To be gentle means knowing that none of what we enjoy belongs to us and living gratefully in God’s generosity. It means trusting God so much that in everything we do, in how we order our days, in what we teach our children, in the work we choose, we give ourselves over to God. Surrendering ourselves to God, becoming gentle, opens the way for love to break in. And oh, how our world needs love to break in.
Blessed are the gentle, for they shall inherit the earth.