Feb. 13, 2022
Jeremiah 17:5-10
Luke 6:17-26
A friend and colleague of mine returned from her Lilly Grant sabbatical a few months ago and just last week we were able to do some catching up. I asked her, “After all the thought and intention that went into the design of your sabbatical, and after being able to actually experience it, what have you come away with? How has it shaped or changed you?” She gave me a two word answer: “Island time.”
She and her family spent a portion of their time living in a national park in Puerto Rico and a portion living in a national park on the island of St. John. And, she explained to me how she just couldn’t re-enter the rat race of Fairfield County the same way. She could no longer rush from one responsibility to the next; she was letting go of the worry and stress of being ever productive; she was willing to let certain balls drops. Island life taught her in a new way that life is a gift, creation is a gift, time is a gift, and we owe it to ourselves and the giver of these gifts to protect them.
But, there was another component of Island time that she shared. She noticed how celebratory the people were – especially in Puerto Rico, – how when they partied they partied hard. And that’s because, as they explained, life there is really difficult; life is a struggle for so many, so when they can celebrate they do it with conviction.
That struck me as a very impressive attitude – one I’ve not always been able to adopt myself. When circumstances get difficult for me they tend to become all-consuming, maybe because extreme difficulty isn’t my norm. But for them that kind of difficulty is almost expected, and joy is something they claim and cling to at every opportunity they have.
The thought left me with both admiration and sadness because the truth is that life is really difficult for the majority of the world – dramatically difficult in ways that I could never see for myself – and how remarkable it is that cultures are able to face this kind of struggle with that “island time” perspective – but also how far more painful and broken perspectives also abound.
We’ve been watching a show at home called, “Trafficked.” It’s a National Geographic documentary series. The first episode we saw was about the scamming industry in Jamaica and the second was on the fentanyl that is produced and smuggled from Mexico. In both episodes you see the many layers of complicity, how so many play their part in these industries that damage and destroy lives. And, you also see the struggle that life is, the lack of opportunity, the utter desperation that drives people to be a part of it.
It’s with these thoughts lingering in my mind that I read our passages for today and found myself a bit stuck. In particular, the first line of Jesus’ sermon on the plain felt especially mystifying. “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” There was a guy in Trafficked from Jamaica who told the reporter that he had tried the God thing, but God seemed willing to allow him to starve. By scamming, on the other hand, he was able to feed his family. So, he was done with God.
“Blessed are the poor,” says Jesus. I wish he had said more about how. How are the poor blessed? A colleague shared with me the story of living amidst the abject poverty of the slums of Thailand. He said how, to his amazement, they were the most joyful people he had ever met. Having nothing else, they were left with plenty of room for God, and to him it showed. He reminded me of a professor of mission who spoke to my former church about Christian worship in some of the poorest parts of Africa (unfortunately, I forget which countries.) She said how incredible it was to see how the offering was the highlight of their services. People came forward to bring their gifts and they danced and sang with joy as they offered to God what little they had.
There’s a kind of richness and abundance illustrated in these stories that may be part of the answer. They may also help us understand the “woe’s” in the second part of Jesus’ sermon. “Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.” “Woe” doesn’t’ mean condemned. It means, “watch out, be careful, put the brakes on.” “Don’t be so rich that you can’t see that there are more important things.” “Don’t aim for money and miss the mission and meaning of your life.” This is a message that these poor communities have to teach us, I think.
That said, I still can’t look upon poverty and say, “Blessed are the poor.” To do so, in a way, feels like a condoning of it. Like, “Don’t worry about your poverty; it’s a blessing for you,” which of course is an attitude that absolves me of any sense that I might be called to invest whole-heartedly in their care, their benefit, their ability to thrive.
So, what do we make of Jesus’ most famous sermon? Well, I do have a couple of thoughts that I would like you to consider.
First, it is important to hear Luke’s words that Jesus “came down” to be “on a “level place” “with” a great crowd of disciples and a great multitude of people, who happened to be Jews and Gentiles, insiders and outsiders. The one thing they all had in common was their need. They were a massive crowd of human hurting all living under the oppression of a world view that says the faithful are blessed and the sinful are cursed. If you are suffering you must have brought it upon yourself. If like Job you’ve lost it all, it is because you earned it in God’s eyes. In this sermon on the plain Jesus enters their space and joins them on level ground. One commentary I read said the word, “with” is the most important word in this passage. Jesus is “with” them, body and heart, and he says, “The truth is that in God’s eyes you are the blessed ones.” Though forsaken, condemned, judged, and looked down upon by the world around you, you are blessed, known, and loved by God.”
This is no easy, “Smile, God loves you” message. This is the brightness of God’s light shining upon you, telling you the truth of who you are and how the Holy One will forever see you.
The other thought I have is this: though everyone can hear what Jesus is saying, Luke tells us that when Jesus began to speak he “looked up at his disciples.” He is talking directly to those who would be in ministry with him. He is talking to those who would follow him to the cross. He’s talking to those who would receive his Spirit. He is talking to the church and therefore talking to you and me. And he’s telling us who and how to see. He’s telling us to watch out lest allegiances to that which is not God leave us lost to the truth of all our lives. He’s telling us that to look out upon a broken and need-filled world as disciples (to look out God’s way) is to look out – always – with love.