Thursday, February 21, 2019

On Level Ground

Luke 6:17-26
6th Sunday in Ordinary Time

People outside of the Church have a perception of Christianity that we have a lot of rules.  I think we have that perception because, we kind-of do.  We pride ourselves that, since Jesus, we don’t have as many, but that doesn’t always stop us from wanting them.  And we certainly have our favorites: the Ten Commandments a favorite when it comes to rules.  I say that because we tend to try to post those wherever we can get away with it.  But there are others.  We like the Golden Rule: do unto others as you would have them do unto you.  Then there is my personal favorite, where Jesus summed up the Law: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength; and love your neighbor as yourself.  That’s a good one.  

We often look to the Bible to find rules that will help tell us how we are supposed to live.  Some of us, though, do take it a little to far; we scour its pages to find rules we may not have noticed before; we’re good, but maybe we could do it better.  We’re obeying God’s rules, but maybe there are rules we missed.  “Hey, did you see this one about covering your head in church?  Ooh, here’s one about not wearing clothing woven from more than one kind of cloth.”  And maybe there’s something here in our reading today that teaches us something new and special about how Jesus wants us to live.  Maybe this is a list of rules about learning to be poor, hungry, sad, and unpopular.  

I certainly hope not.  And since laying down rules doesn’t otherwise seem to be what Jesus came into this world to do, I doubt it.  In fact, I’m starting to think that listing out rules might not even be what the Bible is for.  Don’t get me wrong, the Bible’s got some great rules in it, but it’s also got something better.  Rather than just telling us what to do, the Bible shows us what God’s up to.  And knowing what God is up to might just require more of us than just following rules.  

You probably already know this, but in the Gospel of Matthew, there is a much-longer “sermon” that sounds very much like what we read today in Luke.  By the way, we’ll be hearing the next part of this sermon next week; and if you find this part hard to take, buckle up—next week is worse.  

But that aside, although there are some similarities between the two gospel accounts, they are decidedly not the same sermons.  First of all, there’s the location: the one in Matthew is described as the “Sermon on the Mount,” but Luke is careful to point out that this sermon happens on a “level place.”  But that’s not nearly the most important difference: the biggest difference is the audience.  

In the verses leading up to today’s reading, Jesus has indeed been on a mountain, but by himself.  Jesus has been up on a mountain praying, and when he comes down, we find out what he’s been praying for: he comes down the mountain and picks the twelve disciples; those who would carry on his ministry.  And in our reading today, Luke is careful to point out that, although there is a multitude gathered—crowds gathered to hear him and be healed by him—but that’s not who Jesus is talking to.  Here Jesus is talking to the twelve—he’s talking to his church.  

That’s an important thing to know: it’s important because he’s not talking to the world at large here. This is no moral code for society; it’s for those who have been called into relationship with Jesus and sent to live in his reality.  In short, just before he says these things, he turns and looks us in the eye.  And looking right at us, he says some very perplexing things, doesn’t he?  
Blessed are you who are poor. 
Blessed are you who are hungry now. 
Blessed are you who weep now.
Blessed are you when people hate you, and exclude you, revile you, and defame.

Do you remember the movie “The Princess Bride”?  If you do, you probably know where I’m going with this, right?  There’s that guy who keeps using the word, “inconceivable!” over and over.  And finally Indigo Montoya says, “You keep using that word; I do not think it means what you think it means.”  I can just imagine Peter saying something like that: “Hey Jesus, I know I’ve just now been chosen to be an apostle, but you keep using that word ‘blessed.’  But the way you’re using it, I don’t think it means what you think it means.”  
It does get worse.  He doesn’t seem to know what the word “woe” means either: 
But woe to you who are rich. 
Woe to you who are full now. 
Woe to you who are laughing now.
Woe to you when all speak well of you.

Let’s face it, we don’t always live out the points of the sermons we hear.  Even me: there are times that I literally don’t practice what I preach.  Some sermons are easier than others.  Last Sunday, for example: it was all about deepening our relationships with God, with each other, and with those around us in the world; and I was doing that all over the place last week.  I even went on a couple of dates with my wife!  Finally, someone preaches a sermon I can follow up with!  

The sermon Jesus preaches to us today seems not so easy.  Some popular preaching—you know, the kind on television—will sometimes make it seem like the life of the faithful Christ-follower is a life of blessings and prosperity; that if we follow God’s rules just right, everything will be fine and dandy.  But that is not the sermon Jesus preaches.  This sermon, preached to his church, is a call to a radically different way; a way of that turns the way of the world upside down.

I mentioned that there is a similar sermon in the Gospel of Matthew, but there is another striking difference between that one and this one: this sermon doesn’t spiritualize anything.  In Matthew, the blessings are sometimes qualified: blessed are the poor, but they are poor in spirit; blessed are those who hunger, but they hunger for righteousness.  There’s a real, physical, sociological dimension to the sermon we hear in Luke; the sermon Jesus preaches to his followers.  In Luke, you can’t mistake who God sides with in this world: the poor, the hungry, the weeping, and the hated.  And in the surrounding multitude, for those who fit these descriptions, this is (no doubt) good news.  If you are poor, if you are hungry, if you are weeping, if you are hated, take heart.  God cares for you; God cares about what you’re going through; this is not the last word.  This is not forever.  You will be rich, you will be filled, you will laugh, you will be welcomed.  

But remember, he’s not preaching to the multitude.  The poor, and the hungry, and the sad, and the lonely already know the reality of their situation.  They will, even without trying, learn God’s new reality.  They will, without any effort, find the mercy and care of God.  Jesus is not preaching to them.  No, this sermon is for the church: for those of us who might be surprised by this reality; for the church when we are rich, well-fed, laughing, and respected.  This sermon is to the church when it forgets that God’s reality is not our reality.  This sermon is a warning to us when we take more comfort in ourselves and what we have than we do in the mercy and grace of God. This sermon is a reminder that the way things are, are not the way things will be; and we are challenged by the truth that we are not always on God’s side of things.  We are challenged to ask: 
Are the beatitudes our attitudes? 
Do we live simply, caring more for people than stuff? 
Do we mourn over the loss of God in our society?  And I don’t mean that in the way that judges and condemns society, but the heartfelt grieving of an empty spot in our culture? 
Are we persecuted for righteousness sake? 
Do our lives and attitudes stand in such contradistinction from society's that we look strange and subversive?
The sermon that Jesus preaches to us today asks us an important question: "If not, why not?"

Let us be challenged by the words of our Savior today; and may our lives conform to the life that he calls us to.

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