Blessings

Blessings and Woes

Luke 6:17-26

He went down with them and stood on a level place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem and the coast of Tyre and Sidon. They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases; and those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured. And all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power went forth from him and healed all of them.

Then he looked up at his disciples and said: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.

“But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.”


This litany of “blessings and woes” reminded me of the conversation I had with the High School youth a couple of weeks ago when we tied ties together as part of our series of Sunday school classes I call, “Stuff I Never Learned in High School.” Other than almost learning how to tie neck-ties (some of us learned it better than others), we also talked about wealth and poverty and income inequality, a bit – all connected to The Rich Man and Lazarus, another story Jesus teaches about later in Luke’s Gospel.

The theme of that story is a common one for Jesus – all of this stuff about wealth, poverty, equity and justice, I mean – whether it comes in the form of the Beatitudes in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, as they’re called in Matthew’s Gospel… these “blessings and woes” from his “Sermon on the Plain,” as it’s called in Luke’s version of the story, or in parables like the Rich Man, dressed in purple and fine linens, and his poor neighbor, Lazarus.

Well, my conversation with the youth was sparked by a tweet I’d seen earlier that week by Nina Strohminger – a professor at the prestigious Wharton School of Business, at the University of Pennsylvania. Her tweet caused quite a stir in certain circles, back in January. This is what Professor Strohminger posted on Twitter:

“I asked Wharton students what they thought the average American worker makes per year and 25% of them thought it was over six figures. One of them thought it was $800k. Really not sure what to make of this.”

(She added that the real figure was something like $45,000/year. Others have disagreed, saying it’s more like $53,000/year.)

Whatever the case, WOW. And WOE – as in “woe to you Wharton School of Business” – as Jesus might have tweeted in reply.

It’s shocking … obscene perhaps … maybe even sinful, by some standards … that so many students at an Ivy League university, studying business, would be so misinformed; so out of touch; so sheltered as to think the average bear in their own country makes anywhere from two to sixteen times more than is actually the case.

(It may be telling that a single year’s undergraduate tuition at Wharton is nearly $55,000 which is about $1,500 more than what the actual average American worker makes in a year, depending upon whose math you believe.)

Again, WOW. And woe, indeed.

And I don’t mean to make more of this than is fair or necessary. These were undergrads, I think … maybe even Freshman … I likely would have answered wrongly in one direction or the other when I was 18, too.

But it’s meaningful and faithful to wonder about this when you also consider that the likes of Warren Buffet, Elon Musk, Donald Trump and two of his kids, along with governors, CEOs and powerful people of all kinds, at the highest levels of society, have connections to places like Wharton and the University of Pennsylvania. These are the kinds of leaders who have and who do and who will influence public policy at every level. These are leaders we should hope and pray have their hearts and minds and life’s work in-tune – not just with the rich and the full and the laughing, as Jesus might put it – but also that they would be in touch with the poor, the hungry, the weeping, and the hurting among us, too.

And so should we, as followers of Jesus.

Which is why all of this makes Jesus, and his sermon full of blessings and woes, speak to us, too, about recognizing our place and privilege in the world; and about how all of this is an invitation to be aware of and compassionate about the social, cultural, political, and economic location of all God’s children in the world around us.

“Blessed are you who are poor … But woe to you who are rich…”

“Blessed are you who are hungry now … Woe to you who are full…”

“Blessed are you who weep now … Woe to you who are laughing…”

“Blessed are you when people hate, exclude, revile, and defame you … “Woe to you when all speak well of you...”

See, I’m under the impression that Jesus promises blessings for those who are poor, or hungry, weeping, and persecuted, because that’s what Jesus and the grace of God do: they offer hope for those who need it most. And because God’s grace promises to redeem the poor, the hungry, the weeping and the persecuted in the end and at all costs.

And I’m under the impression that all of those “woes” are meant to do more than simply shame or scare whoever finds themselves rich or full, smiling or living their best life. I think Jesus wants those people to remember that they have been – or recognize that they could be – on the other side of things at any given moment, “but for the grace of God,” as they say.

And, of course, this is all so relative, right? You and I don’t have to have attended an ivy league school or make six figures in a year – or more – to live in an ivory tower by someone’s estimation. So, Jesus wants all of us to live differently in light of this Truth. And, because he’s Jesus, he shows us how to do that, however subtly, when, as Luke’s gospel tells us ‘he went down with them [that day], and stood on a level place.”

This little bit of stage direction from the writer of Luke’s Gospel may or may not have been intended for much, but when you know the rest of the story it can mean a whole heck of a lot. “He went down with them, and stood on a level place.”

Jesus’ whole life, ministry and existence was about coming down … lowering himself … becoming less than … not out of pity, but with compassion. Not feeling sorry for, but standing in solidarity with. Not because so many are helpless, but because he could be so help-ful. Jesus was never far off and far away, but always drawing near and coming close to see who needed what most, when, and how. And he calls us to do the same.

And I don’t mean to rain on our Super Bowl Sunday parade – I plan to be watching and eating and drinking my way through it all with the rest of you. But I’m not sure there’s a more timely example of our culture’s priorities and excess than everything we’ll be up to collectively this afternoon and evening.

So, let’s notice who’s in the stands in the stadium tonight and wonder about who’s on the sidewalk out front, too.

Let’s acknowledge that those amazing commercials cost an average of $6.5 million per 30 seconds – over $12 million a minute – while politicians and corporate America pretend to feel sorry, scared and helpless about the boogey-man of inflation.

And let’s not forget about the racial drama behind the scenes of it all, either … about who’s on the field, who’s coaching (or not) from the sidelines, and who’s sitting up high in the suite seats, behind the glass.

Blessings and woes… blessings and woes… blessings and woes…

The life of Jesus – and all of his preaching, teaching and healing – are about his stepping into the swirl of blessings and woes that make up this life as we know it. So, let’s be convicted by what he has to say this morning. Let’s wonder about how full we are, ourselves. Let’s be aware, too, of how little others have in this world, about how much more we could share, and about how we would, could, should come down more often to help level the playing field for those who need it.

Because whether we’re in Wharton’s School of Business or in Sunday School at Cross of Grace… whether you’re a millionaire or making minimum wage in middle America… Jesus calls us all to be mindful of the poor, the hungry, the weeping, and those in need, among us. And he invites us to trust God’s promise – and give thanks for the good news – that we will be blessed when all are blessed by the blessings that come – to us and through us – for the sake of the world, when we follow his lead.

Amen

Beatitudes Behind Bars - Matthew 5:1-12

Matthew 5:1-12

When Jesus saw the crowd, he went up the mountain. He sat down an when he saw his disciples, he began to speak and he taught them, saying:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

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

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”


I checked out Twitter this week – once I realized we would be hearing Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount this morning, with all of his promised blessings in mind. Because you’ve all seen someone who’s been “#blessed,” right? Maybe you’ve been “#blessed” yourself at some time, and felt compelled to share it. So, I thought I’d do a little search, and wasn’t surprised by what I found.

Easily, the majority of “#blessed” tweets to be found had something to do with young high school athletes receiving offers to play, and then committing, to a football, basketball, or baseball program at some undergraduate university or another.

Other “#blessed” posts included things you might expect: sold homes, pregnancy announcements, beautiful sunsets, new careers beginning, marriage proposals or weddings in the works, and birthdays, too, of course.

One woman was “#blessed” because her boss offered to buy her Starbucks on the way into work Thursday morning. Another guy was “#blessed” and just happy to be awake and breathing and not in jail, on Wednesday. Lots of fathers were “#blessed” to be “girl dads” in response to the death of Kobe Bryant and his daughter last Sunday.

What I didn’t see was anyone “#blessed” because of anything Jesus is talking about on the mountain-top this morning. Like:

Twitter MOUNT ab.jpg
Twitter MOUNT bb.jpg
Twitter MOUNT cc.jpg
Twitter MOUNT d.jpg
Twitter MOUNT e.jpg

You get the idea. Those aren’t the kinds of things we are inclined to count as blessings. And they certainly aren’t the kinds of things that most of us run to share on social media. Which is why Jesus’ words are a powerful invitation to reconsider what in the world and for whom in the world God’s blessings flow.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not dogging on the college scholarships or the babies on the way. I’m not ripping on the successful real estate ventures or the happy engagements. I think it should feel like a blessing to have your boss buy you Starbucks every once in a while.

But none of that is what Jesus is after, up on the mountain this morning.

Because Jesus is proclaiming God’s grace and blessing in a way that was new and different and unexpectedly better than anything the world had ever known before. He was proclaiming and promising that everything was to be different – that everything is different – in the Kingdom of God.

Now, many of us have heard all of this before – these beatitudes – I mean.

And because we’ve heard them so many times already, it can be easy to take their meaning for granted, or to forget how revolutionary they were – how powerful and revolutionary they are and still can be – for those who hear, and need to hear, the fullness of their Truth.

But, I think the most common misunderstanding about these beatitudes – and a trap I fall into myself sometimes – is to assume Jesus was laying out a list of pre-requisites for those who wanted to receive the blessings of God in their lives, as though God’s blessing is conditional upon however much purity, meekness, and hunger or thirst for righteousness a person could muster; as though Jesus is saying, “If you’re meek, then you’ll inherit the earth.”  Or, “If you’re hungry, then you will be filled.”  Or, “If you mourn, then you will be comforted.” And so on…

But the grace of God isn’t about pre-requisites. The grace of God is about the love and promise that shows up in surprising ways, when we feel anything and everything but “blessed” – when we’re meek and mourning, poor in spirit, pure in heart, persecuted, and so on.

So with this in mind, I saw this come to life at the prison in Pendleton this week, when a handful of us worshiped with the inmates there on Monday night. I saw and shared some surprising blessings in some surprising ways in a surprising part of God’s kingdom, I mean.

For grown men, convicted men, incarcerated men, presumably “hardened” by their life’s experience, many of them are quiet, reluctant, shy, and to themselves in the presence of the worship we share. “Blessed are the meek.”

Of course, there was a sense of some sadness there on Monday night, based on the prayers the guys offered up: they wanted to pray for Kobe Bryant, who’d died the day before, and for their wives and children and families they were missing and who were struggling without them on the outside of those prison walls. “Blessed are those who mourn.”

And there was “Thomas,” too, who was smiling and genuinely grateful to be healing and on the mend after surgery following his recent suicide attempt. (He swallowed an ink pen that did all kinds of damage to his GI tract.) “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”

And it was so great to hand out large chunks of our bread during communion, too. Never mind the theological significance of bread for the sacrament, it was a beautiful thing just to know it was probably the best-tasting and only homemade food those guys had eaten in who-knows-how-long. (It was just as powerful to pass out the leftovers after worship, too.) “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.”

And there was Travis, who looks old enough to be my brother, but kept calling me “Father,” because of my “uniform” – the black shirt with the white collar – I was wearing. I really don’t mind that, but after the third or fourth time we joked about me not being old enough to be his “father,” and that I wasn’t a Catholic priest, he was genuinely embarrassed to have gotten it wrong again. And I was taken aback when he put his hand on my shoulder and his head on my chest in apology for his transgression. “Blessed are the pure in heart.”

See, in this most well-known bit of Jesus’ most well-known sermon, we’re reminded that what it means to be “#blessed” is different from what we expect and different from what the world would celebrate most of the time. Jesus is out to do nothing more and nothing less than offer comfort and good news and hope and peace – against all odds – for those who need it most, which may be you or me this morning; which has been, I imagine, or will be you and me at some point down the line.

Jesus promises God’s blessing not just for the ones who’ve won the scholarship, but for those who haven’t even made the team… not just for the ones who are planning their big day, but for the ones whose relationship is coming undone… not just for those making the big announcement, but for those with no news – or only bad news – to share.

God’s good news is as surprising as it is simple this morning: the abundant blessing of God’s love promises to find the meek, the merciful, and the mourning; the pure, the persecuted, and the poor in spirit – each of us, anyone and everyone – when we least expect it, when we need it most, in spite of ourselves, for the sake of the kingdom, in Jesus’ name, and always by grace alone.

Amen