‘Pure in heart,’ a standard for our times, a challenge for our lives

By Mark A. Taylor

Three months ago I took my car to the garage for an oil change and the prescribed tire rotation. When the technician called me to the desk to pay after the work was finished, he told me the wear on the tires didn’t warrant rotating them. And although the car’s manual said it was also time to change the air filter, mine wasn’t dirty enough to replace. So he wasn’t recommending that, either.

Maybe the guy didn’t know I’m ignorant about cars. I was ready to pay for whatever work he said I needed. He sent me home with money in my pocket that could have been his.

Does this shop subscribe to a higher code of ethics than many outfits we know about? Or was this just good business? I don’t know, but I thought about the garage manager’s honesty when I came to this week’s Beatitude: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” “Pure in heart.” It’s a standard of integrity that surprises us when we see it.

When we think of purity . . .

But business dealings may not be our first thought when we hear Jesus speak of purity. Our minds may first go to the issue of sexual purity. If so, we can quickly acknowledge the truth in what Jesus promised. Seeing God? Not in the sniggering innuendo of late-night TV. Not in the raunchy plots and dialogue in the latest buddy movie. Not in the flood of pornography blinding users to the God-given ecstasy of sex between two who are completely committed to each other.

When our eyes are on another simply for the purpose of pleasing ourselves, we’re not seeing God.

And that’s a truth that extends far beyond any discussion of sex.

. . . we discover a challenging benchmark

William Barclay says the Greek for our English pure means “unmixed, unadulterated, unalloyed.” John Stott expands our understanding with his description of those with pure hearts: “Their whole life, public and private, is transparent before God and men,” he wrote. “Their very heart—including their thoughts and motives—is pure, unmixed with anything devious, ulterior or base. Hypocrisy and deceit are abhorrent to them; they are without guile.”

But mixed motives, half-truths, and self-protection seem to be the stock-in-trade for most in the public eye today. From a few Olympic athletes and New York politicians to philandering superstars or bad-behaving British royalty, untarnished transparency seems in short supply. The thought that those around us will always behave with total integrity seems quaint and unattainable.

When we look at ourselves . . .

Perhaps we can understand this when we think honestly about ourselves. We, too, are a mixed bag, walking with self-interest that underlies so many of our decisions. This may seem natural, because our instinct for self-preservation is inborn. It shows its value when it keeps us from unnecessary risk, tells us to apply the brakes at a busy intersection, or reminds us to save for retirement.

But when we lie to hide our transgression, when we cheat to pad our pocketbooks, when we present the world with a picture of ourselves fashioned primarily to advance ourselves, we demonstrate hearts that are far from pure. We may quickly excuse this because our mixed motives have become so familiar to us we assume everyone has them.

And maybe we’re right. “To examine one’s own motives is a daunting and shaming thing,” Barclay concluded, “for there are few things in this world that even the best of us do with completely unmixed motives.”

. . . we yearn to see Someone better

But we keep working at this because of the payoff. If we selflessly serve our families or the poor or the shunned, eventually we will see God’s face in theirs. If we give to the church and to Christian enterprises, we will discover God using our gifts to extend his will. If we read the Bible and sing and pray for the pure joy of drawing closer to God, we will, in fact, see him.

This is not a once-and-done proposition. But each time we act with God’s will and others’ needs in mind, the next choice is easier. Any purification process takes time. Refining metal, ridding a house of vermin, eliminating weaknesses in a team or army—none of this happens quickly. And neither does the purification of our hearts.

The sixth Beatitude gives us the impetus to keep going, though, because it promises us the greatest blessing of all:  to see God himself—not only in the world to come, but in the beauty and redemption he creates by working through us now, day by day by day.

This post originally appeared February 19, 2022.

Photos by Charles Deluvio and by chester wade on Unsplash and by Hernan Pauccara from Pexels.

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