The Blessed Life: A New Look at Purity
DATE: October 5, 2008
SCRIPTURE: Matthew 5:1‐12
Across the nation and around the world, all sorts of folks have been eulogizing Paul Newman this week. They've spoken of his work as an actor, his love of auto racing, his attentiveness to his family and his incredible generosity. Last night they even dimmed the lights on Broadway in his memory. But here in Westport, it's been a bit more personal, for we've lost a good neighbor. Yes, he valued his privacy—when we first moved to Westport we were told if we ever saw him to simply say, "Hello, Mr. Newman," and to then go about our business— yet he was never aloof. He enjoyed Joe Mioli's pizza, filled his prescriptions at the local drugstore, and occasionally showed up at Shaw's. He always greeted the guy who handed out towels at the Y, treated his plumber with kindness and respect, played in the snow with his grandkids, and supported his wife's efforts at the Playhouse.
Newman had a great sense of humor, and wasn't above a little self‐deprecation. He once commented that the epitaph on his grave would read: "Here lies Paul Newman, who died a failure because his eyes turned brown."
Back in 1995, on his 70th birthday, he and his wife Joanne Woodward made a decision not to accept any more honors or awards. When they were offered the Faces of Achievement Award here in Westport back in 2000, they wrote a letter explaining their decision. "[It was] not [made] you understand, out of arrogance, just a mellow belief that we had been honored in gracious sufficiency and that more would constitute excess." (Westport News, 10‐1‐08, 3)
Newman, by all accounts, was the real deal: humble, generous, truly dedicated. As fellow actor Elizabeth Taylor said: "He was goodness and kindness and pure integrity…" (Ibid)
I saw Paul Newman on stage at the Playhouse in Our Town, and spotted him once going into the Newman's Own offices just across the street. But I didn't know him personally, and I know almost nothing about his spirituality or religious beliefs. But if the way he carried himself through life, especially in the later years, is any indication, then he just might be the sort of person Jesus was speaking of in this sixth beatitude: "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." (Matthew 5:8)
When we are talking about purity, we usually think of in terms of cleanliness. Ivory Soap comes to mind! But here it is all about that which is unalloyed, unmixed. In fact, more than one scholar suggests that the phrase "pure in heart" means "single minded devotion". (Douglas Hare, Interpretation: Matthew, 41) Devotion to God. Devotion to the well‐being of others. Devotion to doing the right thing.
Over the years the Newman's Own has given away over $250 million in profits from the sales of their various products like salad dressing and popcorn. Robert Forrester, the vice‐chairman of the Foundation notes: "[Newman's] heart and soul were dedicated to helping make the world a better place for all." (Westport News, Ibid)That's single minded devotion. That's being pure in heart.
I suppose you might be thinking, "Well, yeah, easy enough for him. He had those beautiful blue eyes, and real talent, and a whole lot of money. He could afford to be pure in heart!" But the truth is anyone can be pure in heart. Anyone can be single minded in their devotion. It may not happen every minute, or every hour, or even every day. But being single minded in your devotion, being pure in heart, focusing on God—on doing the right thing—on acting out of love—can happen in any life.
Newman was well‐known for playing guys living outside the law. Butch Cassidy and the con man Henry Gondorff in The Sting come to mind. They were men who would hardly be called pure of heart! But in real life, even convicted criminals can come to a place of such devotion. In his work with literacy education, Tom Harken discovered one such fellow.
Harken didn't learn to read himself until he was an adult. When he finally did, it changed his life. Changed it so much that he decided to spend his retirement years encouraging others to read and write.
Frequently Harken gives speeches promoting literacy to those in prison. One estimate indicates that 80% of all prisoners in this country are functionally illiterate.
One such talk was given to a group of lifers—men who spend their whole lives behind bars. The occasion was a GED graduation ceremony. The prisoners in question had learned to read and write, and then had earned high school equivalency diplomas. Many of them were convicted murderers, rapists and the like.
Before they entered the room where the ceremony was to take place, the warden told Harken that he was not to give the microphone to anyone—and not to get near to any of the prisoners.
Seated in the audience were family members of some of the inmates. When the prisoners were brought in, they were all in shackles. Heavily armed guards were posted all around.
After Harken's speech there was a question and answer period. A very rough‐looking man raided his hand and asked if he could come to the microphone. Harken looked at the warden who shook his head—no way. The prisoner had tears in his eyes. "But Mr. Harken," he said, "I want to say something to my grandfather."
Again the warden shook his head no.
But Harken decided to take a risk. "C'mon up," he told the prisoner.
Everyone held their breath. But soon it became clear that he meant no harm. In fact, he was shaking from nervousness. When he reached the microphone he spoke: "I want all of you to know that my grandfather is the gentleman over their in the faded overalls. I'm sure he remembers when I made fun of him and his clothes… Grandpa, I will never get out of here because I didn't do the things you [told me to]… But I got this GED diploma because I wanted to show you I could do something right for a change. I love you, Grandpa. I'm sorry." (Source: Chicken Soup for the Golden Soul)
And then he dissolved into tears. His grandfather came forward, and hugged him for dear life. And even the warden misted up.
Does a convicted‐felon have a clean record? A pure life? Of course not—not 99.9%, not even close! Yet for one such as this, purity of heart remains a viable option.
And if it's an option for a lifer, there's hope for you and me as well.
According to his obituary, Mr. Newman was able to spend some time outside in the arbor of his garden just a week before he died. There, the obituary says, he "breathed in all the late summer beauty, and said very quietly, 'It's been privilege to be here.'" (Westport News, 101‐08, 9) And so it is for each of us. It is a privilege to live on this earth, to have the opportunity to serve one another, to love one another, to be pure in heart.
It may not happen all the time or every day. But when it does, when you are single minded in your devotion, when you are truly focused on doing the right thing, you will see God. You will indeed.
Amen
John H. Danner