"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God."
You will remember that we are approaching this study of the beatitudes as Jesus' teachings about happiness. Happiness, from this perspective, requires purity of heart
But we don't really know what that means, do we? It sounds quaint - some sort of Victorian virtue, perhaps, that has no longer requires our attention. The reason it is so quaint, or meaningless, for us, I would suggest, is that we live in a culture that makes purity of heart exceptionally difficult because it encourages, prizes, and rewards its opposite.
Let me explain. By purity of heart, I understand Jesus to mean the quality of clarity in our desires, the absence of duplicity, and the transparency of motives. A person who is pure in heart is someone whose motives are clear, whose purpose and desires are honest and simple, and who demonstrates a consistency between appearance and reality. With a person who is pure in heart, what you see is what you get. There is no deception, no ambivalence, no duplicity, no distortion, no ulterior motives. Pretty rare, isn't it?
I was talking recently with a student whose face was extremely expressive. It was like a constantly changing neon billboard, clearly portraying the emotions behind the language. I remarked on this fact. The student conceded, "I am a really bad poker player."
There are two notable things about this encounter: first, how much I enjoyed talking to this student - how refreshing I found it. And second, how the notion of a poker face - a face that hides one's feelings, one's true intentions, one's strategies - is valued in our society.
When I say our society, I have in mind our collegiate society, of which Dartmouth is a prime example; and also our larger society, as manifested in the institutions that shape and express our culture.
First, our collegiate society. Purity of heart is, as I said, rare because we are taught to value its opposite. Instead of wanting one thing and being transparent about our motives, we are taught to want everything, to keep our options open, and to hide our motives. It happens before you get to Dartmouth. Indeed, students get to Dartmouth often because they have been successful in living a multi-tasked, resume-building, carefully calculated life. I do not mean to condemn any person who recognizes himself or herself in such a description. I mean rather to make clear how common this recipe for success has become. And so, for example, we are people who do not know what we want to do, because we have been taught that we should want to do everything, or at least keep our options open that if something better should appear we will be prepared to grab it as it passes by. Along the way, one must cultivate both the appearance of virtue - engaging in community activities that seem to demonstrate concern for the casualties of our society - while at the same time also cultivating an attitude of sophistication that views every commitment with irony. This is the way we have been taught to act, isn't it? We have been told that it is the path to success, and so far, our advisors have been right. But sooner or later - often in college, we realize that this path leads to a dead-end, because we have become incapable of knowing what we really want, of being honest about our vulnerability or making a commitment that is not ironic. Look around. You will see what I mean.
But our highly competitive, highly achieving collegiate society is only part of a larger society, where purity of heart is hardly known. Our larger society, by which I mean not only the United States, but the affluent nations of the globalized world - perhaps the G12 nations as a short hand - are accurately characterized as manifesting a culture of advertising. Perhaps this is not equally true of every nation in the G12, but certainly it is true of our own. By a culture of advertising, I mean that most of the values and cultural prompts and expectations of our society are both reflected in and promoted by advertising. Let's face it: most people in our society have no philosophy of life except that derived from advertising. And advertising is the opposite of purity of heart. Advertising always has ulterior motives. By carefully constructed deception, advertisers almost always portray a product in terms that are not only flattering, but unrealistic. In short, the culture of advertising is a culture of lies. Our only protection from such a culture is the development of a sense of cynicism which knows that they are all lies. Kids learn it early: the toys they see on TV don't really look like that or work like that or make kids that happy. Adults are slower learners; they often think the cars and vacations and jewelry really do make them more appealing better people. But advertising extends not just to products, but to people. Our political leaders are sold to us on the basis of advertising images. Everything is a photo op; everything is about image; everything is about spin. And even on public TV, the news hour, which I regularly watch, is sponsored by advertisers like oil companies who present a message about how concerned they are about non-fossil fuels, or commodities traders who say how their sole purpose is to make people happy as they drive a convertible along the coast of California, or non-union foreign auto manufacturers who say how their automobile plants are contributing to the health and welfare of the American people. Is it any wonder that we can not distinguish between fact and fiction, news and advertising, truth and lies? We live in a culture where purity of heart, and almost all the other qualities mentioned in Jesus' beatitudes, are systematically, overwhelmingly discouraged. So, when we encounter such qualities, we are at first suspicious, then puzzled, and only finally, perhaps, accepting that they are real.
Back to poker. There's nothing wrong with it, we're told - except that it is sometimes addictive. But usually, it is an innocent past-time. Maybe. I think it is good training in how to live a calculated life. I treasure my conversations with the student who confessed to being a bad poker player, whose face showed me everything, and whose words were honest and pure. As it happens, this student claims not to believe in God. I think s/he doesn't believe in the God who is advertised. Neither do I. But I have faith in the promise that the pure in heart will see the God who really is., because, you see, to want to see what is really true, what is really real, what is beyond deception, is to want to see God. This is what God means. And only people who want to see such things would recognize God anyway. Amen.
copyright ©2007
Richard R. Crocker
