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

Mark 1:21-28

They went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” But Jesus rebuked him, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him!” And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, “What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.” At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.

A friend of mine from college had an interesting way of filling his free time: he would climb up the exteriors of various buildings on campus. This all happened at Valparaiso University, so one of his climbing adventures took place on this building: the 60’-high Chapel of the Resurrection (see image below).

His attitude towards life was engaging, fresh, and often quite different from mine. I rode a bike, always with a helmet firmly attached; he had a skateboard. I played cards and video games; he came up with crazy pranks to pull off on campus. I was concerned about following the rules; he pushed boundaries. I kept my feet firmly on the ground; he...did not. Well, I kept my feet firmly on the ground until the day I finally went with him to climb a building on campus. I didn’t attempt it until our senior year. In all reality, it was little more than an attempt to impress the girl I had recently started dating. We all made it up to the roof and back down without falling and breaking any bones. And she must have been impressed because we kept dating and eventually married.

I asked my friend if he was ok with me talking about him and his campus climbing adventures for my sermon illustration. He joked that he wasn’t aware of the story of Jesus climbing the temple. However, I reminded him there is a story about Jesus climbing the temple. It’s found in Luke 4:9, which reads: “The devil...placed [Jesus] on the pinnacle of the temple.” It all makes sense now...the devil made him do it!

I’m not advocating for anyone to go scale the facades of buildings. That’s not exactly what inspires me about him. I am inspired by his impulse to push against rules, norms, and expectations in order to serve others. This same friend graduated and went down to Guatemala to work with people who lived in landfills. That takes a serious boundary-pushing impulse.

I hope you are blessed with a friend like this; someone who helps you see new possibilities. A friend like this keeps you on your toes. A friend like this helps you understand that some rules are made to be broken.

In this way, my friend modeled an aspect of Jesus’ life that is often overlooked by Christian churches in the West today: Jesus was ornery. This is evident in the miracles he performed, the wisdom he taught, the friends he made, the freedom with which he lived his life, and the way he understood and related to God. All of it clashed against the customs and rules of his time.

Ornery Jesus reserved his most radical and controversial actions for the Sabbath day–the day no work was to be done. I imagine Jesus was pretty low key throughout the week, but as soon as the sun goes down on a Friday night, Jesus would get a look in his eye that suggested he was ready to break some rules...because some rules are made to be broken.

In the gospel story for today, Jesus is teaching in the synagogue on the Sabbath. He’s not teaching like everyone else teaches...this guy is impressive! He’s engaging, authoritative, and exciting. He’s pushing boundaries. He’s the skateboard-riding, thrill-seeking, excels-at-everything guy captivating a room full of rule-followers wearing safety glasses, pocket protectors, and bike helmets...or whatever the equivalent was 2,000 years ago.

He is addressing an assembly of people whose power is perfectly preserved by the rules they impose and enforce. But here they are, eating up Jesus’ every word. They begin to see that the rules should ensure that all people thrive. Maybe someone other than a priest can forgive someone’s sins in God’s name. Maybe people should be allowed to be healed on a Sabbath day. Maybe sinners, tax collectors, and prostitutes are worthy companions with whom to sit down and break bread.

And then someone in the assembly recognizes what Jesus is doing and calls him out on it. “I know who you are. You will destroy us!” Scripture says this is the voice of an “unclean spirit.”

The unclean spirit has found a compatible host in this religious man preoccupied with his own power. This unclean spirit is threatened by anyone suggesting there is a life to be lived beyond the rules, regulations, and structures that preserve the power and privilege of the elite. The voice insists what matters in life is to follow the rules so that you can keep your cupboards and treasure chests full, even if those same rules mean others are denied their fair share.

Jesus does not sit quietly and listen to the concerns of the unclean spirit. He does not allow the voice of lies, deceit, and unbelief to utter another single word. He has no time to waste rationalizing with such narrow-mindedness. Instead, Jesus commands this unclean spirit to be silenced and remove itself from the man. It does. All are amazed.

I like to think that all those who witnessed this event in the synagogue that Sabbath day left feeling free and emboldened to push the limits of society, ready to treat people with more respect and compassion than they had before. However, there were some whose hearts were hardened against the new gospel they were hearing and witnessing with their own eyes. They saw Jesus as an ornery rule-breaker. And when your identity, value, and salvation is tied up in maintaining the rules even if those rules oppress others, then ornery rule-breakers must be stopped at any cost. These men would conspire with other powerful people to rid themselves of this rebellious Jesus once and for all. They would, of course, fail.

Fortunately for human civilization, history is full of examples of people who have been in touch with the rebellious nature of the universal Christ and have gotten into “good trouble,” as the late Georgia Representative John Lewis liked to refer to it. John Lewis, leading the crowd of black southerners across the Edmund Pettus bridge to register to vote. Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu, raising the world’s awareness of the sin of apartheid in South Africa. Malala Yousafzai, shot in the head for demanding girls be given the right to be educated in Taliban-occupied Pakistan, only to survive and find an even louder voice. These are just a few of the stories most of us know well. But each day there are people who challenge rules and assumptions that only serve to preserve the power of the privileged. They get into good trouble.

God did not send Jesus into the world to sanction our worldly preoccupation with preserving our sense of power and privilege. God sent Jesus into the world to expose the sin of humankind, teach us a more beautiful way for all people, and remind us that we are forgiven even when we fail to follow that more beautiful way. In the coming days and weeks, I encourage you to get to know ornery Jesus. Ornery Jesus calls out injustice. Ornery Jesus calls out the unclean spirits that tell us our salvation lies in our power and privilege. Ornery Jesus looks at an obstacle as intimidating as a 60’ brick wall and says, “We can make it up there.”

Amen.