Wednesday, December 11, 2019

"Blessings and Woes" (Sixth Sunday after Epiphany)


Luke 6:17-26
17 He came 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. 18 They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases; and those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured. 19 And all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed all of them. 20 Then he looked up at his disciples and said: "Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. 21 Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. 22 Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. 23 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. 24 "But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. 25 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. 26 Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets."

              Bill and Jo Patterson were a couple who were members of the church as long as most folks could remember, though it had been several years since Bill had been able to attend services. The entire time I served as their pastor, Bill had been homebound, unable to walk much further than the distance from his hospital bed in the living room to the bathroom down the hall or a chair in the kitchen. “It’s his heart,” Jo would tell me every time I came to visit them in their home in the cul-de-sac. Of course, Jo wasn’t in spectacular health herself; she had smoked a lot in her younger years, and by the time I knew her she was tethered to an oxygen tank or to what seemed like miles of clear tubing that ran all over her house. She was a sweet woman who loved her husband and her family. It didn’t come as a surprise to me when Jo called me one day to tell me Bill had died. Between gasping breaths, she told me about how he had gone the way he would have wanted, at home, with her and their family. She asked if I would do his funeral, and of course I said yes. When the day came, we held the funeral at the funeral home chapel. There was nothing too out of the ordinary; I prayed, read Scripture, put a few words together to say for Bill’s family, all with a few recorded hymns woven in. Afterwards, we processed to the cemetery, and it was there that I made a mistake I felt bad about for weeks afterwards.
              In case you don’t know, I have trouble with names. Seriously, if I ask you your name, it’s not because I don’t know you or like you, it’s because I have a genuinely difficult time remembering names. It seems to be worse whenever I have to remember couples, especially if the two people in that couple have names that are similar or perhaps easily confused—like Bill and Jo. I had trouble with that when I first met Bill and Jo, but I had thought I was over it, but then we came to Bill’s graveside service, where I repeatedly said things like, “Today, we lay Jo’s body in the ground,” or “Jo’s death is only a temporary absence,” each time saying Jo’s name instead of Bill’s. I bet I told myself a thousand times not to switch the two, but I did every time, and I felt awful.
You ever do something like that? Mix your words up and wind up saying the right opposite of what you actually meant to say? I do. I did, and I am beginning to think Jesus did too, or at least folks like Luke did when they were writing all this stuff down, a generation after Jesus said it. I mean, that would make sense to me; after all, it’s hard to get all the facts straight, all the quotes exactly right forty or fifty years later. Think about those stories you hear people in your family tell every year around the Thanksgiving table, those stories that make you want to hold your hand up, clear your throat and say, “Well now, I don’t remember it like that at all!” Yeah, I could understand if Luke got it twisted a bit, but Luke sets out in the opening lines of his gospel to tell us that he’s done his research, spoken with eye witnesses, and was likely palling around with Paul, coming into contact with some of the apostles themselves, so I really doubt Luke got his words mixed up.
So maybe Jesus misspoke, got his words crossed. I can’t blame him if he did. If you read the chapters and verses leading up to our passage this morning, you’ll see a full itinerary for Jesus, with little time to rest and absolutely zero cups of coffee! After his baptism and trials in the desert, Jesus begins a teaching ministry that begins in Galilee in chapter four, returning back to his home in Nazareth (where they almost throw him off a cliff), then back to the synagogues in Judea, followed by the lake-side lecture we heard about last week before the miraculous catch of fish, then Jesus answers questions about fasting and the sabbath…that’s a lot of teaching, a lot of answering questions, a lot of time and energy going towards telling people about the kingdom of God. That alone might be enough to cause someone to have a slip of the tongue, but Jesus is up to more than just teaching.
Jesus is also healing a number people: he cast out an unclean spirit in a man in Capernaum, healed Simon’s mother-in-law from a dangerous fever and while he was there, “all those who had any who were sick with various kinds of diseases brought them to him; and he laid his hands on each of them and cured them”[1] too, along with casting out a few demons before he left! After the miraculous catch of fish, Jesus cleanses a leper, heals a paralytic, a man with a withered hand, and in the first verses of our text “[many] 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 came out from him and healed all of them.”
That too is enough to wear you out, to knock your tongue loose, but Jesus does still even more, because in the midst of this teaching, healing, and exorcising, he calls his disciples. No, I wouldn’t blame Jesus one bit if he got his words crossed up, if he said one thing but meant another. Honestly, I sort of hope that’s what happened. Otherwise, I’ll have to deal with what Luke tells us Jesus says in this passage, and honestly, it just doesn’t make any sense to me. It seems backwards, upside-down, inside-out: “Blessed are you who are poor…blessed are you who are hungry now…Blessed are you who weep now…Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man…woe to you who are rich…Woe to you who are full now…Woe to you who are laughing now…Woe to you when all speak well of you…” See? Sounds backwards right?
Here, see if this doesn’t sound better, more natural: “Woe to you who are poor…who are hungry now…Woe to you who weep now…Woe to you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you…blessed are you who are rich…blessed are you who are full now…blessed are you who are laughing now…blessed are you when all speak well of you…” Better, right? Makes a lot more sense that way doesn’t it? I mean, of course we’d more likely say “Woe” to those who are poor and hungry, because they’ve probably done something to put themselves in that position right? Maybe they’re lazy, maybe they’re not good with their money, or maybe they just make bad decisions all the time and wind up with growling stomachs and empty accounts. “Woe to them,” right?
Of course, we’d say “Woe to those who weep now” too, because you’ve been to those funerals just like I have. You know the ones, where folks are just falling all over each other, crying and carrying on, covering the church parking lot in cigarette buts and snuff spit. The whole thing seems like a big put on, a production, an emotionally overdrawn show! Woe to them, because they don’t know how to act now that momma’s gone, right? Woe to them because they ought not to be crying if they know they’re loved one is dead and gone to heaven, right? Woe to those who weep now, because if they had just stayed out of trouble, paid their bills on time, did what was right from the start, they’d have nothing to weep about, right?
Woe to those who are hated, excluded, reviled, and defamed, because it sure is awful to be them! After all, no one hates another person simply because of some characteristic they have no control over, right? No one hates another person because of something as involuntary as the color of their skin, the place of their birth, the language they speak, or their very biology, right? No one has ever been excluded because of who they are, reviled on account of things beyond their control, defamed or turned away because they were seeking to do something good, something right, something just, something from a place of love, were they?
Were they…? Maybe the revised blessings make a bit more sense. After all, I’ve come to learn that people prefer to be told positive things over negative things anyhow.
“Blessed are the rich;” now that makes sense, right? I mean, you work hard, earn a good living, buy some nice things, save up some money, invest, get rich. Wealth is a blessing, right? It’s not like folks get rich by exploiting those with little to give, right? It’s not like some of the richest people in the world keep all their money while millions of other people starve, right? Even so, those aren’t the rich Jesus would be talking about anyway. Surely he’d have to be talking about those rich folks who do good things, who give some of their money to charity, those rich folks who only own two homes and four cars and only go on three vacations a year and pay their employees just enough to let them work a second job—blessed are the good rich, right?
“Blessed are those who are full now,” well that just makes all kinds of sense doesn’t it? I mean, I like food and I like to be full of food. There are few things in this world quite as nice as a good meal that fills you up just right. I was right in the middle of a good blessing like that a few weeks ago. I was coming back home from Atlanta, from a week-long writing workshop, when I decided to stop at a Chic-Fil-A for lunch. I have to say, if a fast-food place can be blessed, that place sure is: it was after 2:30 their time, and there was still a line of cars wrapped around that building, and inside there were three lines at the counter. I ordered my food, got my drink, and sat down, waiting for my blessing to come to my table. That’s when I saw her—actually, I saw her get out of the car in front of me as I pulled in the parking lot. She was an older woman, dressed in a dark sort of dress, and she sort of wobbled as she walked. I remember seeing a piece of paper in her hand. As I sat at that table waiting for my chicken sandwich, I watched her walk up to folks in line, showing them the piece of paper, each one shook their head, ignored her, or just shrugged their shoulders. I overheard the women behind the counter say something about calling the police, but the woman had slipped out the door and was heading for the Burger King across the street. I heard one man, whom she had approached, say, “I doubt she can even speak English, because she sure couldn’t write it good,” (the irony was lost on him) “she ought to go find a mosque or something if she’s really hungry. Let them give her some food!” I guess she assumed she was Muslim because of her dark dress. Oh well, “blessed are those who are full now”…right?
You know, now that I think about it, maybe Jesus didn’t have a slip of the tongue. Maybe he really did mean it when he said, “Blessed are you who are poor…who are hungry now… you who weep now…Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you,” because those folks have nothing left to hold on to but God, no one left to feed them, to dry their tears, to love them, include them, hold them up, and cherish them but God. Maybe Jesus actually meant it when he said, “woe to you who are rich… who are full now… who are laughing now…Woe to you when all speak well of you…” because far too often those who are rich get that way because they hold too tightly to what they have, while seeking more from those who have less, because far too often those who are full don’t want to know where their food comes from and who might actually be starving for the food they throw away, because far too often those who are laughing don’t get that the joke is on someone else, that their comfort is at the expense of someone else, that when other speak well of you they will just as sure speak ill of you the moment you do or say one thing out of line with their way of thinking. Woe to them, because the only one they have left to feed them, to dry their tears, to love them is themselves.
Maybe Jesus didn’t get his words mixed up. Maybe we got our worlds mixed up. Amen.


[1][1][1] Luke 4:40b

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