Luke 6:20-31
November 7, 2004
All Saints C
Luke 6:20-31
November 7, 2004
On this All Saints Sunday, Jesus speaks to us in a sermon that sounds vaguely familiar. We may recall that he said something similar to this before, in a sermon that everyone applauds, but that few apply—the Sermon on the Mount.
In that famous sermon, Jesus said; “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” We remember that, and we like that, because it doesn’t touch our bank account. He continued; “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.” And we like that, because Lord knows the church and the world could use a little righteousness like ours right now. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” We like that, too, because it’s good to know that the dark clouds around us will break to reveal the shining sun. There is a lot to like in the Sermon on the Mount.
The sermon that Jesus delivers today uses some of the same material as the Sermon on the Mount, but it has a very different tone; “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God,” and “Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.” Ouch. “Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled,” and “Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry.” “Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh,” and “Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep.”
The gentler Sermon on the Mount comes to us from Matthew’s gospel, where Jesus takes his disciples up on a mountain, sits them down and preaches to them. As Luke remembers it in the version we hear today, Jesus brought his brand-new disciples down a mountain, sat them down, and preached to them. Luke calls it the Sermon on the Plain, but today, we’re going to call it the Sermon on the Level. Jesus brings his disciples down to a level place, and levels with them about the quality of life in the Kingdom of God. What they hear is a sermon that upsets the status quo, and reverses normal human expectation.
What then, shall we do with this contrary sermon on All Saints Day? All Saints Day is supposed to be a day for visions—the vision of what was, the vision of what might be, and the vision of what shall be. And this last, the vision of what shall be, is the one that hangs us on threads of faith as we grow onward in the Spirit—from what was to what can be—as we await the dawn of glory in all its brightness.
All Saints Day is the vision of the New Jerusalem, “Coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband,” and the voice from the throne, “Behold, the dwelling of God is with people. God shall dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself will be with them.”
All Saints Day is the vision of that yet more glorious day, “when saints triumphant rise is bright array, and when the king of glory passes on his way.”
All Saints Day reviews the fellowship we have been given, “the glorious company of apostles, the white robed army of martyrs,” and all who have fought the good fight in faith to the end—including those whose presence we once cherished and whose memory we now honor—who died in faith to live eternally in Christ.
These are visions of faith, of course, visions totally out of touch with the world as we know it, but visions that transform our ordinary days where things seem impossible into days of great possibility.
But back down here on the level, the evidence suggests that we are far from sainthood. Our lifestyles suggest that we may not want to be in that number when the saints go marching in. There is a great gap between the values and priorities to which we are accustomed and the values and priorities of the saints. And that is why Jesus levels with us.
In the Sermon on the Level, Jesus makes it clear that the values of the Kingdom of God are opposite of every value that human kind has ever held dear. “Blessed are you who are poor.” Ask the poor about that. Does it feel like a blessing when you can’t make the rent? “Blessed are you who are hungry.” Does it feel like a blessing to have to choose between food and medicine? “Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you and revile you.” We’ve all experienced that, but have probably felt cursed, not blessed.
This is tough stuff, as Jesus levels with us in this sermon. It is tough, because it touches us in tender places, places that have always held high rank with us—places of success and security that we have created for ourselves. But on the level, Jesus reminds us that life in the kingdom is not something that we can achieve by clinging to our human successes. It comes to us as a gift when we let go of the old creation, and begin to live in the radical new creation that Jesus offers to us.
The Sermon on the Level, with its blessings and woes, is a roadmap to sainthood in the Kingdom of God. The poor, the hungry, the mourning, the excluded, have already achieved kingdom life for a couple of reasons. First of all, they are blessed in their poverty because they know they cannot rely on themselves. They know that they must rely on God—something that those who are “blessed” with material wealth too often forget. To trust in God is to live in the Kingdom of God. It’s not that hard when you have nothing to lose—but woe to those who cling to their own achievements for security—they have already received their reward.
Secondly, the poor, the hungry, the mourning and the excluded are already blessed because they can be comforted. They are open to even the smallest bit of grace, and are thankful for it. It’s not that hard to be receptive to something when you’ve got nothing—but woe to those who think they already have everything they need.
There is a third and final blessing that comes to us in this sermon, and this blessing is for those of us who find ourselves in the “woe” column—the ones who Jesus describes as rich, full, laughing, and well thought of. The Sermon on the Level, with its blessings and woes, is a roadmap to sainthood in the Kingdom of God for us, too. And it’s not that hard to follow. It just goes against everything we’ve learned to hold dear about success and security in this world.
We can move from the “woe” column to the blessings column simply by pretending that we have nothing—or at least, by believing that what we have means nothing. We can move to the blessings column by believing, like the poor, that the only thing we have to rely on is God. And we can become a blessing by releasing what we have for the good of those who have not. We can make Jesus’ promise of blessing come true for those who are poor, hungry, weeping, or excluded. We can become saints in training. And that’s on the level. AMEN