God of blessing and woe, disturbing the deadly order of the world: give us faith tested in poverty, hunger for what really satisfies, eyes softened by tears and hearts ready to laugh at all that is false and pompous that we might be witnesses to the dignity of life; through Jesus Christ, who turns the world upside down. Amen.
I want to begin today by setting the scene of the Gospel story. Jesus has just been up a mountain, and after praying all night, has chosen the twelve apostles. He then comes down the mountain, to a level place, with the apostles, his other followers, and a great multitude of people who have come from all over. This multitude of people have come from far and wide to hear him, but mostly to be healed. And here is Jesus, not up above them on the mountain, but on the level ground, in the midst of these likely hundreds of people. Jesus is physically very accessible to these crowds. His nearness to the multitudes is important. In scripture, a mountain top experience—here the choosing of the apostles—is often followed directly by the reality of what this mountain top experience calls for—here an immediate response, a sermon for those who have come seeking healing. We hear from him today the first half of the Sermon on the Plain, or Luke’s version of the Beatitudes. There’s an invitation to the listener to consider from what they need liberation, of what do they need healing, from this Jesus who has placed himself in the midst of the people.
Jesus’ words begin with four “Blessed are you’s”—and before we dive into the specific “blesseds” I want to give two small notes about this word blessed.
FIRST—the audience who is hearing Luke’s Gospel would have recognized this phrase or practice of “blessed are you” from earlier in Luke’s story: Elizabeth proclaims it about Mary; Mary hears it from Gabriel it during her annunciation. This is becoming a phrase that points to ones who are participating in the ways that God is working through Jesus in the world.
SECOND—I want to give a kind of contemporary understanding of the word “blessed”—we might consider, because of the churchy overuse of the word blessed, that blessed here means something like happy. It doesn’t really. It’s something more like satisfied or unburdened… Satisfied are you…unburdened are you… So just hold those two things in mind as we continue…
“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.”
Now, for Jesus, this does not mean spiritually poor—this is a direct address to those who are economically poor. And the hunger he speaks of addresses those who are chronically starving. In Matthew’s version of the Beatitudes, the language is beautified a bit, to perhaps expand the way these could be interpreted. But Luke is direct and clear. You who are poor. You who are without food. The kingdom of God is yours. You will receive liberation from your poverty, from your hunger.
For those of us, perhaps most of us, who hear these first two beatitudes and tend to distance ourselves from them—thinking perhaps of an alleviation from poverty or hunger that will come after this life—that understanding is in direct conflict to what Jesus is actually saying here. As one commentary states “There is nothing good or romantic about poverty (and I will add hunger). Good news would be its eradication…” For those whom poverty or hunger is not a real, lived experience, “Divine response takes concrete shape when those who have economic means do everything possible to change the desperate condition of the poor [and the hungry] both through charity and by working for systemic change.”
“Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.”
While we can of course apply this beatitude to those who weep for any kind of grief and suffering—and this one seems to hold more flexibility in our interpretation to do so— it is important to note the way that this beatitude is grouped with the two before. The weeping here likely accompanies the poverty and hunger Jesus has already addressed. Further, the alleviation of this grief, will be celebrated with laughter by those who experienced this misery, but also by those who wept alongside them.
“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."
The final “blessed are” points out particularly responses people may feel when following Jesus. In his teaching here, Jesus is “invoking the compassion and mercy of God[…]He is describing ways of living that conform to God’s commitment to see the poor and unprivileged raised up.” And Jesus acknowledges that this is so backwards, upside down from the ways that we are expected to live in the world, that he names the blessedness of those who would truly live that way: you will be hated, you will be excluded, you will be marginalized. AND, that means you’re doing it so ‘right’ that you should celebrate. Rejoice! As the prayer says, laugh at all that is fraudulent and pompous. Leap for joy in the way that John leapt in Elizabeth’s womb at the presence of Mary and Jesus.
Now to the woes…
“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."
Similarly to the blesseds, I want to point out that the word ‘woe’ here doesn’t actually carry the connotation that we might expect. As scholar Matt Skinner states, the word is something more akin to “Yikes”, “uh-oh” or “Look out”— it is not textually laced with quite as much disappointment or judgement. Rather, it may be something more like a deep sigh, accompanied with Jesus’ sentiment towards the people of “your vision is so small, so limited, if only you knew what you were missing out on…”
We might listen to these words and wonder, I may be comparatively ‘rich’ or ‘full’ or ‘joyful’ or “spoken well of”—but I’m, like, not a bad person…And that’s not quite what Jesus is trying to do for us here…
Jesus is trying to help the multitude, both present to him on the plain then, and trying our best to follow his teachings now; he’s trying to show us something. These woes are a warning, but also a hope for us to be awakened to the idea that we may have been given false promises of what a life is. Our efforts have been put toward things, or advantages, that are likely going to let us down. Jesus is trying to show us that is not a lasting way. As Skinner goes on to share, “It seems […]that Jesus’ woe statements are revealing something—that the things we assume are advantages are actually [illusions]. What if [the excess of] money, food, comfort, self-won security, respectability, and the like are things that kill our souls—not just in some far-off afterlife but right here, right now? What a tragedy to mistake them for benefits given by God, then.”
Through Jesus, God is speaking to the multitudes— past and present— of a future that is better than the status quo. Most of us when we hear this text are not inclined to trust it. Most of us would rather settle for the comfort of the status quo. The woes we hear are meant to prompt a change of heart that leads to life, leads to liberation. If we recall back to just before Christmas, we heard Jesus’ mother, Mary, also proclaim these words—of the hungry being fed, the poor being relieved of their burdens. What Jesus has done in this Sermon on the plain, eternally in the midst of the throng of people seeking his healing, is invite us to view the world in the way Jesus views the world. And the vision we praised in Mary’s words, he is encouraging us to live out in his words.
Yikes, you’ve settled for the status quo when you could have the kingdom.
How might we instead, trust Jesus enough to risk some hunger, risk discomfort, risk heartbreak, risk respectability, in order to seek the kingdom here and now?
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