Blessed Are Those Who Mourn

You can start at the beginning of this series here.

 It's been awhile since I last wrote.  I've been busy.  This blog took a little more leg work than average.


I conducted interviews with several people - Christian and non-Christian - about this verse: Matthew 5:4:

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted."

It's one I struggle with more than others.

Not because I don't think it's great.  I think it is.  If you're mourning, you're going to be comforted.  Comfort is wonderful.  We love comfort.  We love snuggling in blankets with hot drinks and cuddling with people we love and eating mac and cheese and mashed potatoes with heaps of gravy: comfort.

The reason I struggle is twofold:

1.  I hate that we have to mourn in order to receive this blessing.

2.  I have seen people in mourning who fall into total darkness, and I don't know how I can call that blessed.

I haven't personally seen what I would consider great loss.  All of my grandparents are dead.  Popaw passed away last year.  I wasn't able to go to the funeral.

He was in his eighties and was the last one left of my grandparents.

It wasn't great loss.  He was older.  And I believe in my heart that he was ready.

I cried mostly because I couldn't be there to support my mom.  It didn't feel right.  I felt like it was part of my duty as a daughter to go there.  To be with her.  To be in mourning too.  To... comfort?

But that's not what I'm talking about yet.

I have not suffered the loss of a child.  I have not suffered the loss of a spouse or parent or sibling.

I dread the day any one of those things might happen.

Some of them feel inevitable: one of these things will likely happen before I'm dead.

At least one.

And the death of friends: people who I've been close to most of my life.

That shouldn't happen, but it does, and the older you get the more often it's bound to occur.

When I was teaching a student was killed in a car crash.  He was one of my theatre kids.  It was crushing to the department.  There was a long time of mourning.

And somehow... there was also comfort.

Is that the blessing?

The comfort that comes from others?

What about his parents?  How exponentially more they must have suffered than I, his teacher.  What about great loss?

That's why I conducted the interviews.

Photo Credit:  Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

 
These are my friends, Donna and Darrell with their brand new baby boy, Aidan.

While pregnant, they found out that Aidan had a rare disorder that meant he would only be with them a few hours after birth.  Maybe less.  Maybe a little bit more.

They chose to be faithful.  To stick with their baby.  To lean on Jesus.

And Aidan was born.  He lived only a few hours.

It was...  beyond comprehension.

To suffer loss so immediately.  Such great loss.

Both Donna and Darrell responded to me request for stories about mourning.  I didn't want to solicit them from anyone - mourning is personal, and it's not okay to pry, to want, to try and get something for yourself from someone who is in the middle of such a difficult process.  I only wanted to obtain stories from people who were ready to talk about it.

Donna expressed what I have so much trouble understanding about this verse, and sometimes, about the world.  She said,

I have always struggled with this. Wouldn’t it be just as “blessed” not to mourn and not need comfort?

Yes!  So much yes!  Why should we have to feel these horrible feelings.  The feeling of everything draining from your body and into your stomach and out again.  The feeling of darkness and clouds and looming pain - the sort that washes over and over you again and again and years later still has the power to bring you sobbing to your knees with shouts of WHY?!

But then she followed up with this:


In our grief, people have come out of the woodwork to offer us comfort in the form of sympathy cards, food, hugs, flowers, plants, a tree (yep, Aidan has his own baby Magnolia tree that we are actively trying not to kill!), blankets, a memory box for “souvenirs” from his birth, a free photographer to take pictures after he was born, and MANY other things. We still grieve. But we also feel the almost-overwhelming LOVE from the hands and feet of Christ. If we lived a life with no mourning, we might be comfortable, but we might not have the opportunity to experience the overwhelming love of Christ in the form of the actions of his people. 

 "If we lived a life with no mourning, we might be comfortable, but we might not have the opportunity to experience the overwhelming love of Christ in the form of the actions of his people. "

Is that it?


Is that the beautiful lesson here?

I wanted to know more, and craved interviews with more people - I didn't have to wait long - they came pouring in.

Next I heard from Darrell:

As I think about the statement "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted," I also wonder if there is a kind of sideways imperative there. By that, I mean, is there a bit of a reminder that we all find ourselves in those times of mourning and need others to be comforting for us, so when we come alongside others in situations of mourning, we should be a comfort for them? Perhaps this is true on some levels for each of the Beatitudes. Maybe we won't have the opportunity to be in each of these situations, or to meet people in each of these situations, but we can be a part of the blessing when God leads us to these places.

A "sideways imperative"?  

Webster defines "imperative" in this context as:  "giving authoritative command; peremptory"

And "peremptory"?:   "insisting on immediate attention or obedience, esp. in a brusquely imperious way."

Wait... the Beatitudes could be... commands?

Could it be that those Beatitudes we have the opportunity to understand through the provision of the blessing... we must understand in that way?

The People of God are responsible for some of these blessings?

We are the Hands and Feet of Jesus, yes?

Astounding.

I had to chew on that for days before I felt comfortable or confident writing it - but it makes so much sense.

Throughout the Bible God commands us to "mourn with those who mourn" (Romans 12:15) and we see examples of great loss and mourning throughout the Scriptures.  

Perhaps mourning... and coming alongside those who do it... perhaps it is necessary in our cultivation as people.  Is there anyone who has suffered no loss?  Just wait a few years.  It will happen and does happen to everyone.  It is a vital part of the human condition.

Jesus suffers great loss twice that we know about for sure: John the Baptist is beheaded; Lazarus dies.  Jesus is so disturbed by this that he brings Lazarus back again.  If only we could do the same.  But would we have the wisdom of Christ to know when it was appropriate and when it was not?  He loved John, but John remained in the grave.  The difference?  Perhaps only God can tell.

I also interviewed folks who lost their parents.

My friend, Sheila, wrote:

In years gone by, when my mom spoke about her various serious illnesses, she would always say that she pictured herself as a small child climbing into the big lap of God as he enveloped her in his loving arms. During her final months of life, I could picture her picturing that scene again. Having a parent die is the normal cycle of life. You expect to lose your parents, and yet, one is never ready. I still have days where I am overwhelmed with missing her. She truly was my best friend throughout life. I could tell her anything. I think mourning is eased by knowing that suffering has ended. I have also come to believe that God allows suffering to give loved ones time to prepare for death. My dad was a basket case. They had been married 51 years. I also think that mourning helps us to empathize with the mourning of others. I think the blessing is for the present life as well as after life. Mourning also brings us into a very close relationship with God. We might be angry with him, pleading with him, grateful to him, but in all cases, we are communicating with him and relating. 

Mourning is one of those things that sends us running back to the arms of God.  Even those of us who haven't talked to him in quite some time.  Maybe we're railing on Him.  Maybe we're telling him we hate His guts.  But we are talking to Him, and He is near.


I always thought that maybe this verse meant we would be comforted because we saw that person in heaven and so we have Hope, so we don't have to be as sad.

But when I hear stories of great loss, that feels a bit Empty.

As I was working through this, I received a message from my friend Dawn, who is not so religious:


The comfort I've felt through mourning has been through seeing how loved my family was, especially my brother.  He was only 29 and the comfort for me was knowing how many people loved him.

The comfort comes through others.

It brings me back to that "imperative" brought up by Darrell.  Perhaps this Beatitude is not so much to take on an attitude of mourning as a general rule for living, but to be the blessing to those who are mourning.  Don't let anyone fall through the cracks.

There should be no empty funeral parlor, no matter who has passed away.  It is our duty as Christians to come alongside, to comfort, to be Jesus for those who are devastated by grief.  It doesn't matter who they are or who has died.  We need to be there.  We need to weep with them when they weep.  We need to bring over those casserole dinners we're so great at making (perhaps potlucks are really practice for the bigger things - everyone has something they can contribute).  We need to come alongside.  

Come alongside.

Bless those who mourn.

Right here on earth.

This evening.

Today.

Be the blessing. 
 

Blessed are the Pure in Heart

You can start at the beginning of this series here.

You can read about peacemakers here.

 I had a little more trouble choosing today's topic.

Nothing has been rolling around in my head on any "Beatitude" in particular.

The two that stuck out during my prayer time today were this one "Blessed are the pure in heart..." and "Blessed are those who mourn..."

We'll save mourning for tomorrow, unless God has other plans or I don't feel much like writing tomorrow...

Regardless, today we're talking about purity.

Not just any purity, but a specific kind: purity of the heart.

The verse in the NLT reads:

"God blesses those whose hearts are pure, for they will see God."

I commented on an article this morning about sexual purity in particular, and have discussed that topic here before.  Having a pure heart isn't the same as being pure sexually (I'm not even sure sexual purity is a thing we should be talking about in the way we've been talking about it anymore...  read about that here.) pure. 

The scripture referenced in the margin next to Matthew 5:8 (the verse about which we're speaking today) is Psalm 24:3 - 6, a Psalm of David.

Keep in mind, that Jesus's audience during the Sermon on the Mount, where he delivered the Beatitudes is made up of primarily Jewish people.  Everyone in the audience would know their scriptures far better than most of us know ours today.  When he spoke this Beatitude, most of the audience would immediately think of the reference to the Psalm for their definition and understanding of the teaching.

Psalm 24: 3 - 6 says this:

"Who may climb the mountain of the LORD?
Who may stand in his holy place?
Only those whose hands and hearts are pure,
who do not worship idols
and never tell lies.
They will receive the LORD's blessing,
and have a right relationship with God their savior.
Such people may seek you
and worship in your presence, O God of Jacob."

The verses above are followed by words familiar to those of us who attend contemporary worship services on a regular basis:

This Psalm is one of praise and thanksgiving.  David is stoked about God here.  Stoked about His holiness and the standards He holds for his people.

Here's the thing about David.

He wasn't exactly pure.

He did... some bad things.

Like... just for example... he had one of his best soldiers killed intentionally on the front lines so that he could get away with sleeping with his wife. 

He also broke God's command about not accumulating large amounts of wealth for himself (Deuteronomy 17:17). 

He made mistakes.  Some bigger than others. 

And yet God calls him a man after his own heart.

And David writes this Psalm about God praising him and talking about just who will get to worship God on his mountain. 

Is David counting himself out?

Note that it says 'whose hands and hearts are pure' - not just hearts, also hands.  David's hands were not pure.  He had killed many in battle - and God told him that's why he couldn't build the Temple.  God wanted his Temple to represent peace rather than war, so David couldn't build it - even though it was the desire of his heart - that duty fell to his son, Solomon.

All this gets me questioning.

Because I know I've told my share of lies in the past.  I've probably put a few things before God as idols.  Does that mean I'll never get to "see God"?  Never get to "worship on his mountain"?

Possibly.

David loved to talk about how awesome God is.  How holy and pure and mighty and amazing.  He loved God whether he was getting to worship on the mountain or not.

But honestly, I can't imagine "the man after God's own heart" not being there at that fabulous party.

In fact, Ezekiel 35:23- 24 the scriptures say that after the Lord's return, David will be set up as a shepherd over the people (as a prince among men) to rule even after his death in God's New Kingdom.  Later, it speaks of "the prince" (David) again (Ezekiel 44:3) as the only one who may sit inside the gateway to "feast in the LORD's presence".

Surely David is seen as one who is "pure in heart".

In spite of his mistakes.

How can this be?

When I think on this, I think back on David's life.  He made mistakes.  He was sorry for them.  He danced before a God he believed was merciful and just and judged a man based on the core of his heart, of his being, of his soul - not just on actions, mistakes, mess ups - but on Who He Is at his depth.  David messed up royally...  but he understood God's mercy, God's wisdom, and God's might better than anyone other human apart from Christ himself.

I figure we can take a lesson from David.

There are some who are naturally pure in heart.  Some who never even think to lie.  Who put God first at all times and never have selfish ambition.

For this we must strive.

When we mess up, as some of us are sure to - we must remember David as our example.  Contrition, understanding of sin and just how far that puts us from the Almighty - but also God's great love and power to bring us back.  To make us pure again.

In Isaiah, the prophet is aware of his own impurity as he stands in the presence of God:

"...I saw the Lord.  He was sitting on a lofty throne, and the train of his robe filled the Temple.  Attending him were mighty seraphim, each having six wings.  With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew.  They were calling out to each other,

     'Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of Heaven's Armies!
     The whole earth is filled with his glory!'

Their voices shook the Temple to its foundations, and the entire building was filled with smoke.  Then I said, 'It's all over!  I am doomed, for I am a sinful man.  I have filthy lips, and I live among a people with filthy lips.  Yet I have seen the King, the Lord of Heaven's Armies.'  Then one of the seraphim flew to me with a burning coal he had taken from the altar with a pair of tongs.  He touched my lips with it and said, 'See, this coal has touched your lips.  Now your guilt is removed, and your sins are forgiven.'" - Ezekiel 6:1 - 7

 God has the power, if we have the desire, the understanding, and the need.  It's about the struggle, the desperation - the longing to be worthy.  None of us are perfect. None of us are truly pure.  Yet if we want it.  If we wish it.  God can make it so.  Ezekiel cried out, understanding that he should be dead because of his impurity before God.  But God sends his angel to bend down and touch his lips so that he could understand that he was good enough.  He was right enough.  He was pure enough.  He was pure.

May the seraphim touch all of our lips.  All of our hearts.  All of our souls.  All of us.

And make us pure.

Blessed Are the Peacemakers

If you missed the beginning of this blog series, go here.

It's Day 2 of the Beatitudes Journey.

Yesterday we talked about meekness, Dorothy Gale, Aslan, and what it means to be "meek, but not tame".

Today I'm going with peacemakers.

I don't have any method to this madness.

I just pray and then read over Matthew 5:3 - 10 again and go with the one that feels right.

Maybe that's divine inspiration.

Maybe it is that I had too much dairy with my pizza last night.

Either way, that's the way it plays out for me.

So, back to the Mount of Beatitudes, just yonder from the Sea of Galilee, where Jesus is talking to a giant crowd of people.  These people weren't there for a sermon.  They were there to get something.  Up to now, his teaching had been in the synagogue, though he had sometimes randomly announced that the Kingdom of heaven is near - the same message John the Baptist spread before him.  His main gig at this time was healing the sick:

"...whatever their sickness or disease, or if they were demon-possessed or epileptic or paralyzed - he healed them all." - Matthew 4:24b (NLT)

By this time he had people from all over the place following him, some to be healed, some just to see what this guy was going to do next.  He was pretty famous in the area.  He had a lot of groupies.  So he does something totally unexpected after he's garnished all this momentum:  "One day as he saw the crowds gathering, Jesus went up on the mountainside and sat down, His disciples gathering around them, and he began to teach them."

He went ahead and presented the days lesson to his disciples in public. And sort of indirectly asked everyone following him to go ahead and cop a squat and listen in.

He's the coolest.  Seriously.

Anyway, the things he says are pretty radical, and one of those radical things is the thing we're talking about today, "God blesses those who work for peace, for they will be called the children of God."

Seems really nice and heartwarming until you put yourselves into the situation of the people who are listening.  The audience is largely Jewish.  They are an occupied nation.

If you've never been to an occupied country, take it from someone who has.  When I went to Northern Ireland (yup, part of the Merry Old United Kingdom) there were soldiers walking the streets.  Posted on street corners.  Eating together in pubs with their machine guns on the table.  Drinking a pint and chatting it up with the clips in.  Pretty much doing whatever it was they wanted to do.  And in the places where trouble was most likely to happen - like say, around a person who was getting a little bit of a following - they were sort of violent.  Sort of aggressive.  Sort of in your face.  They went through your bags.  Checked your car.  That sort of thing.  And the people weren't exactly into it.

There were the Protestants (we in the U.S. will better understand the term "loyalists") who were usually left alone.  They had the better schools, the nicer neighborhoods, the higher paying jobs.  There wasn't much for them to complain about, really.  And there were the Catholics (read "patriots") who were volatile indeed.  And getting searched daily after work.  Pursued into pubs.  Neighborhoods of Catholics were often outfitted with cameras, high powered listening devices, and loudspeakers, so that soldiers could talk to them from wherever they pleased.  Sometimes, things got a little violent.

And so it was with occupied Israel.  Sometimes things got a little violent.

More often than things getting violent, violent things were planned behind the scenes.

These were God's people, and they felt they were occupied wrongly.  They were persecuted pretty much daily by the Roman government.  And though their own leaders encouraged compliance, they were looking for a new leader.  Someone who would not be compliant.  Someone a little wilder.  A little...  less tame.

Jesus was pretty wild.

He said crazy things.  He did crazy things.  Plus he was some kind of magical.

So people never expected him to talk about blessings for peacemakers.  It wasn't a message they wanted to hear.  But he was crazy.  He said crazy things - and yeah, this was one of those things.  And if you keep on reading this radical sermon?  There's a whole lot of follow up on the peacemaking thing.  Like Matthew 5:22 and Matthew 5:43 for starters (Jesus is just warming up!)

We don't see it that way (as radical), but let's think about it differently for a minute.

What if someone said that we, as a nation, should be peacemakers.  We should be working for peace.
 What if they said that meant not invading people with whom we disagree.

What if they said that meant not joining the armed forces.

What if they said that meant not sending drones into civilian areas.

What if they said that meant not spraying pepper spray in the faces of protestors.

What if it meant looking more like Ghandi and less like General Patton.

Yeah. I know.  I'm stepping on toes here.

We in this country hold our military up to something of a holy standard.

I say this as a person who loves a lot of soldiers out there and who prays for them daily by name.  For their safety, for their comfort, for their rest and ability to come home and see their loved ones again.

I don't blame the soldiers. I won't stand for protesting a military funeral.  It's repulsive.

But so is death.  And the spilling of blood over natural resources. And the killing of innocents, the invasion of privacy, the bombing of cities and hospitals and elementary schools... and God weeps for yes, even the killing of the enemies soldiers.

Shane Claiborne said, "When Jesus said love your enemies I'm pretty sure he didn't mean go out and kill them."

I know.

I know all the arguments because I've had them and I've been in them.

There's a reason this country despises hippies.

And no, it isn't because they're dirty, or believe in "free love" or smoke weed.

I believe it's because they stood up for something when it was extremely unpopular to stand up for it.

Not everything they did was right.  They had their own moments of violence and their moments of really horrible actions - sometimes members of the movement yelled things at soldiers.  Sometimes they blamed the messenger.  Sometimes they truly were not Godly.

Other times there were beautiful things:

I mention the hippies because, honestly, when I read that verse, that's the image that pops into my mind.  A hippie chick with flowers in her hair throwing up a peace sign and smiling.  And those above come tumbling out next.

I also know that a lot of people hate hippies.  See them as lazy, dirty, good for nothing dreamers.  What if they're blessed.

What if when I was a young person and I felt vehemently right about the wars our country was fighting...  What if when I saw the towers fall during 9-11 and I thought "YES." when Bush said, "When I take action, I'm not going to fire a two million dollar missile at a ten dollar empty tent and hit a camel in the butt.  It's going to be decisive."  I thought, I admit, "Kill them all.  Wipe the earth clean.  Our soldiers must act as agents of justice."

But...

What if...

I was wrong?

What if...

That was the wordly answer and not the Godly one.

What if those hippies in the mud are more pleasing to God than me proudly saluting the American flag, folding it precisely - me singing taps in the evening at Girl Scout camp - me in my early twenties getting out of the car in the middle of thunderstorm with the wind whipping through my hair and the rain pounding in my face to bring down a flag that was tearing in the storm and carefully fix the clips and grommets before raising it again, with dignity.

What if...

"I just want you to know that, when we talk about war, we're really talking about peace." - George W. Bush

What if that's a load of malarchy.  An Orwellian tragedy that sends Jesus to his knees with sorrow.

I don't think that's what Jesus meant when he said people who work for peace will be blessed.

I think it's an illusion, when we say what we're doing dropping bombs and sending out drones and shooting people is working for peace.  You can't make peace without peace.  You need love to make more love.  Hate doesn't drive out hate.  Only love can do that.  Someone famous said that once.

I'm probably going to get a lot of flack about writing this.


It's a pretty unpopular message.


They crucified a guy over it once.

Blessed Are the Meek

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, specifically about Jesus and The Bible.  I've been pondering the problems of translation and the thousands of years that have passed culturally between us and the Words of Christ.  I've also been reading Rob Bell's series on The Bible (you can find it here) and I've decided to invite you to come with me on a bit of a series study focusing on Jesus and the things that he said.

I'm starting with the Beatitudes, which is sort of a cheesy word Christians invented about general introduction to The Sermon on the Mount, a title we also invented about a huge gathering of humans on the side of a hill to hear the greatest teacher of all time speaking without amplification.

Here's the actual setting for the "sermon":

You can see the Sea of Galilee in the distance.  Imagine you're sitting on the hill.

The water and the natural acoustics of the hillside allow for amplification over the crowd.

The New Living Translation says this (Matthew 5: 3 - 10):

"God blesses those who are poor and realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs.

God blesses those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

God blesses those who are humble, for they will inherit the whole earth.

God blesses those who hunger and thirst for justice, for they will be satisfied.

God blesses those who are merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

God blesses those whose hearts are pure, for they will see God.

God blesses those who work for peace, for they will be called Children of God.

God blesses those who are persecuted for doing right, for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs."

I'm not necessarily going to address these in order, because specific things have been laid on my heart.  I'm actually going to start with verse 5:  "God blesses those who are humble, for they will inherit the whole earth."

The verse many of us are more familiar with is the King James version:  "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth."

When I think of meekness I always think of that scene in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy and her friends are meeting the wizard, and she introduces herself as "...Dorothy, the small and meek."  I always wondered why she would introduce herself in that way.  It made me feel a little afraid for her.  I always associated meekness with weakness, cowardice, and bowing down before an enemy instead of standing and fighting or behaving in any noble way whatsoever.

We don't use that word, meek, a whole lot anymore.

When I looked it up with Webster I got this:

quiet, gentle, and easily imposed on; submissive.

"I used to call her Miss Mouse because she was so meek and mild"

synonyms:

submissive, yielding, obedient, compliant, tame, biddable, tractable, acquiescent, humble, deferential, timid, unprotesting, unresisting, like a lamb to the slaughter; quiet, mild, gentle, docile, lamblike, shy, diffident, unassuming, self-effacing

It bothered me because I don't think that's what Jesus meant.

Maybe that's all taken care of with the "humble" replacement in the NLT, but humility is something we don't really get either.  I think we put it right down next to meek when we think it through, especially in the "self effacing" sense of the word.

While Jesus went "like a lamb to the slaughter" when he went to the cross, he was not compliant.  He was not timid.  He was not submissive.  Even like a lamb to the slaughter Jesus exuded power and strength.  He was more like a lion who had bowed his head and said "Go ahead and kill me - but don't forget that at any time I choose, I can wipe you clear off the planet".  He is not shy.  He is absolutely not "tame".

While the dictionary definition includes those things, I find it sad that we have made many of those virtues into Christian ideals.  It leaves us as things to be victimized.  It leaves us as allowing atrocity and watching from the sidelines as we and those around us are bullied.

Jesus said to "turn the other cheek", but that was so that his enemy was forced to look him in the eye.

I think that when Jesus talks about this "meekness" he means meek and knowing.  Meek and wise.  To be humble in knowing that all of your power comes from the King of the Universe - but to stand up tall knowing that the King of the Universe has your back.

We are children of great power and authority.  We are children of might and valor.  Jesus shakes his fist in the face of the entire Roman Empire as he rides into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey.  Humble, but not weak.  Meek, but not tame.

Jesus is truly the Third Way of doing things.

He does not teach compliance.  He stands up for the rights of the poor, needy, sick, hungry, lame, afflicted, and sinful.  He says it to the face of the Pharisees.  He calls them "whitewashed tombs".  He doesn't hide behind his friends or gossip behind their backs.  He confronts them with themselves on a regular basis.  He walks into the Temple during the week of Passover, when it will be most crowded, and he chases out the money changers in front of the all the mightiest Jews in the world.  The fig tree is cursed as a symbol of the false teaching of the "church" of the time - lots of show and display but no fruit.  No actual understanding.

No - Jesus is not timid and biddable.  Jesus is mighty.  Wise as a serpent.  Gentle as a dove.  Unless people are being cheated, robbed, and blinded by those in authority.

Our meekness should not imitate weakness.

We are not put on this earth to be trod upon.

We are to stand up for righteousness.  If we are caught, tortured, and put to death for it, we are to die with dignity and strength.  Not bleating helplessly, but with our heads up as princesses.  Though we bleed, still we minister, even unto death, as Jesus to the thieves on the cross.

Meek.

He allowed them to kill him.

But not tame.

Now that I think about it, maybe I shouldn't have been afraid for Dorothy, after all.  While her friends cowered in the background, she stepped forward and spoke with authority.  She understood the true meaning of the word.  I, as a young girl, did not.