Relying on God to defend against injustice

In the 1989 movie "Road House" is an otherwise forgettable scene in which the main character, Dalton, played by the late Patrick Swayze, arrives to manage a rowdy bar in an unnamed Missouri town. Dalton, who has bought a junker car in anticipation of future vandalism in the parking lot, encounters a swaggering bouncer who tells him, "You don't look like much to me." With no trace of anger or irritation, Dalton simply replies, "Opinions vary."

In this season of Lent, a church-created, 40-day period of self-examination leading to Good Friday and Easter, my mind goes to the fictional character of Dalton, who exemplifies one of the traits I've long desired to master. Mastery of it, unfortunately, continues to elude me. Dalton, you see, refuses to be provoked into saying or doing something contrary to his own self-image. He declines to rise to the bait of insult. The very definition of fit masculinity, Dalton chooses to be meek.

Meek is perhaps one of the most misunderstood words found in the Bible. In the Beatitudes, Jesus is heard to say, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth" (Matthew 5:5). On the face of it, this proposition doesn't seem to make sense -- if "meek" is defined the way most people commonly understand the word. But the Lord didn't mean his use of "meek" to mean timid, yielding and tame. In His use of the word, we find a gentle defiance. Jesus is suggesting that those who refuse to be provoked, the meek, inherit the earth.

"Strong's Concordance" gives a helpful understanding of what Jesus really means by meek. To be meek is to rely on God rather than on one's own strength to defend against injustice. The meek trust God's goodness and control over every situation. Dalton further cements his commitment to meekness when he tells the bar's bouncers to "be nice," instruction the recipients of the message clearly find to be nonsense.

My mother-in-law, who died in 2011, was the very definition of meek. She never rose to the bait and could not be provoked. Mother seemed to exist on such a plane that insult, which the rest of us seemed to hear clearly, never seemed to reach her. She simply rose above the need or desire to defend herself or give in to the self-assertion and defensiveness that bubble up like bile in our throats.

She never knew how much I admired her for this trait. I'm not on her plane of being absolutely comfortable in one's own skin and perhaps never will be -- but I'd sure like to get there.

Jesus got there. In his appearance before King Herod, during the last full day of his earthly life, Jesus wore meekness like a protective cloak. Poked and prodded by Herod, he said nothing to the puppet monarch. Pontius Pilate, the Roman procurator of Judea, later became frustrated with Jesus' refusal to rise to his own defense. "Don't you know I have the power to release you or to execute you?" The Master broke his silence long enough to respond: "You have no power over me unless it had been given you from above" (John 19:9-11a/NRSV).

Perhaps that's the secret, friends. Being meek, like Jesus, like my late mother-in-law, Lois Gittings Ford, has everything to do with refusing to give other people power over your emotions and your behavior. They got to that plane. I'd sure like to follow. May Lent be a learning experience for each of you this year, too.

Dr. Jeff Long is executive director of the Chateau Girardeau Foundation, teaches Old Testament at SEMO, and pastors two United Methodist churches in Puxico, Missouri.