Sermon – SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 2025

Sermon – SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 2025

Think of today’s gospel passage as a grand awards ceremony much like the Oscars, Golden Globes, or Academy Awards. It’s an incredible setting. Everyone who’s anyone is there. Did you notice the red carpet and stage backdrop, the ambiance of the setting? How about the introduction that the master of ceremonies, St. Luke, gives Jesus? 

Luke describes Jesus coming down the red carpet with the twelve, taking their place among the audience, a great crowd of disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, the coasts of Tyre and Sidon. From L.A. and New York, San Francisco, and Nashville, everyone has come to hear Jesus and to be healed of their diseases.

Guests anticipated an outstanding performance by the nominee most likely to win: Lead Male with the biggest speaking part, Outstanding Healer of life-threatening diseases, Curer of unclean spirits causing trouble.

Everyone wanted to see Jesus up close, touch him or get his autograph. Those with microphones and cameras yearned with anticipation. If only they had the chance to gain his attention, to pose with him or capture him saying something controversial and quotable. 

None would leave disappointed after making it into the venue until they learn that they’re not among those nominated as blessed. Not only would those folks be considered non-winners, they would be deemed cursed. They would leave with less esteem than when they arrived. Whatever luck, fame or fortune they had at the start of the event when they stepped out of a stretch limo onto the red carpet, would disappear into thin air the longer that Jesus spoke.

Jesus had already healed those who touched him on his way through the hallways leading up to the grand theatre. Power had come out of him long before he arrived at his seat. And when he took the stage, it sank and disappeared to become on the same level as the main floor such that no one was elevated above anyone else who also gathered in that shared space.  

Jesus looked at his disciples (the crew of people who helped make his success possible, those whose abilities weren’t exactly on par with his, but could easily have been nominated in similar categories like caring for the poor, the hungry, those weeping or oppressed.) Jesus began his acceptance speech by saying, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” 

In other words, “This award is really for you. And blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. I could never forget you and promise to satisfy your needs. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Don’t feel bad if no one calls out your name, stops to interview you or take your photo. Soon you’ll find joy and want for nothing.”

“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.”

As if to say, “For those of you who never receive invitations to events like this, who have never worn diamonds or ridden in a limo, for those of you whose name no one knows but those closest to you, for those with no power to wield, no authority to command, I accept this award on your behalf. In fact, every accolade I receive belongs to you even in your current state of rejection, your current experience of going unheard and unnoticed, of living without being regarded as special or important.”

The monitor opposite Jesus reads, “Time’s up. Music begins to play. Someone holds up a cue card written with large letters that says, “Cut.” But Jesus continues. “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.” 

“Wait, what did Jesus say?” You can hear people in the audience starting to fidget in their seats. You see men check to see if their bow tie hangs level. You see women grab at their earrings or fiddle with their necklace. Others spin a ring on their finger, adjust their posture or uncross their legs. Still others who start to feel doomed begin to look for EXIT signs. 

“Can we cut to a commercial now? Someone make him stop. Don’t air this. Edit his speech. Censor him. Scramble the message. Mute the mic. If no one ever hears what Jesus said, it will be as though he never spoke. Our reputations will remain intact. We can leave feeling good, just as full of esteem as when we first arrived.” But no, every word is preserved in scripture.

Jesus delivers a final statement recorded for future generations. “Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.” Woe is right. Woe is me.

During my time in Philadelphia, did I not care about what colleagues and lecturers thought of me?  Didn’t I compare my accomplishments to theirs? Did I not fall into the trap of wanting recognition, of wanting a reward simply for using talents God gave me which allow me to act in the role of my choosing?

In Philadelphia, we heard a new definition of trauma by Canadian physician Gabor Maté. He states, “Trauma is not what happens to you, but what you are left holding in the absence of an empathic witness.” This definition really resonates with Jesus’ sermon as he describes God bearing witness to suffering.

In his sermon Jesus empathizes with the poor, the hungry, oppressed, and abused. He communicates understanding. He shares their emotions and feels what their bodies are going through. He reflects their perspective of not owning property, of feeling empty and doing without, feeling defeated or sad, without hope or joy. 

Jesus alludes to the fact that other people hate and exclude them, revile and defame them on account of him. This same conclusion is found elsewhere in scripture and is mentioned in the books of Matthew, John, Hebrews and 1 Peter. Anger, antagonism, opposition and persecution directed toward Jesus and all that he represents befall those who believe in him. 

The kingdom of heaven is the greatest reward possible. It is the most coveted award given by God to those whom God sees struggling to get by while they pray, watch and wait, trusting God to notice and respond accordingly. There will come a time when it’ll be appropriate for them to rejoice and leap for joy, for they have been treated the same way their ancestors treated the prophets and the same way that Jesus himself was treated. 

In the sermon on the plain, Jesus was not talking to middle class Americans. So most of us won’t identify ourselves as either poor or rich. Does anything Jesus said apply to us? Among the crowd was an assortment of characters: Jesus’ disciples, a multitude from Judea, Jerusalem and the coasts, a bunch of people in need, a mix of ordinary Jews and Gentiles. In other words, no one was excluded when Jesus spoke of the two groups and contrasted them. 

Another way to describe the two groups might be to call them “the haves” and “have nots.” I’d call myself part of “the haves” though I don’t consider myself rich because I have everything I need. Sometimes, I’m a rich person wannabe because I get jealous of people who are able or at least happy to spend money without stressing out about doing it. 

I don’t need more things and have plenty to last a while. Sometimes, I get jealous of the have-nots for receiving charity without working for it. I grumble when I see others enjoying what I wish for myself. Jesus might say that I’m cursed with dissatisfaction no matter what I own. Whatever it is that you or I feel, whether we have what we want or feel as though we don’t, the wise thing to do is name how we feel honestly and allow God to be an empathic witness to our lived experience of truth.

Jesus looked at his disciples and said these things. He actually didn’t preach this sermon to everyone there, just to those choosing to follow him. It’s up to the hearer to put themselves in one category or another after making a personal assessment. Being poor, hungry or sad, is somewhat self-determined and might be a private matter between us and God. For who knows us better than God and can address our needs? 

“But woe to you who are rich,” who have no need for God and are able to fill yourselves, who can afford luxury and entertainment, who buy regard from others. Enjoy what you gain now as you aim to make heaven on earth or live like royalty. 

Verses aimed at the poor have been used to tell them to accept their lot and be satisfied with delayed gratification. Jesus became human to identify with people who are denied privilege. “Where the need is the deepest, the situation most desperate, the pain the sharpest, that’s precisely where Jesus is. …from birth, Jesus in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke identifies with the needs, the suffering, the pain and anxieties of the world.”

Perhaps the definition of a curse amounts to always wanting more or aiming to seize blessings for yourself. Perhaps the remedy is to ask for whatever you need or at least check with Jesus before pursuing anything for gain.  

Let us pray. Lord, help us to honestly assess what we have (or have not) and to find contentment in aligning our needs with whatever you would give. I repeat. Lord, help us find contentment by aligning our needs with whatever you would give. In your holy name we pray, Amen.