Friends, today we have Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain. Mount? That’s Matthew. In Luke, we are told very clearly, very “plainly” that Jesus “came down...and stood on a level place.” Such great vertical imagery in Luke: Jesus comes down and looks up! What’s the symbolism there? Seems to me that the vertical movement [+], the geography matches the content...
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And he’s really talking to his disciples, in the midst of the crowd. That’s interesting too. He’s not trying to preach to everyone in the world here. Everyone in the world is welcome to listen and follow Jesus. But here in Luke, Jesus is addressing his disciples, the text says. That is, this those who follow him. I would say then, Jesus is addressing us, the church, those who don’t just want to adore him or watch him from the sidelines, but rather, us who follow him, who try to do what he does.
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And he’s not condemning the rich people of the world here, in these “woe to you who are rich” — I wonder if that might be hard for us to hear sometimes, as one of the wealthiest countries and even counties in the world. He’s not condemning the world’s rich here. He’s talking to his disciples, I’d say, to the church, the insiders. As theologian and professor Eduard Schweizer points out, it’s still early in his ministry: Jesus is issuing to his disciples “a call to action”.
“Hey, this is what it means to follow me: not that.” Let the “riches thing” go. This is a path of humility and suffering, he preaches to his disciples. It’s a path of less and not more. It’s a path of valleys and plains not mountain peaks. [It’s Charlottesville not Monticello...]
And in this letting go, that Jesus is always calling us into, in this path of less not more, in this journey fraught with suffering, in this way of the cross, there is ultimately joy...even now, Jesus preaches to his people…not just after we die.
Another word for blessed — makarios in the Greek — is simply “happy”. Try reading it that way: Happy are you who are poor, hungry, laughed at… What?!!
When we you let go of our stuff, of our grip, there’s more room for God. There’s joy. Mother Theresa: “God cannot fill what’s already full.” Have you ever given something away or given something up, that you thought would be a real pain to let go of, but you actually felt better when you went through with it? Travel guru Rick Steves says about packing for a trip: “No ever returns from a big trip, and says, ‘Man, that was great, but you know, I wish I had packed more stuff.’” No, going lighter, letting go, giving up, surrendering to God actually yields a surprising joy.
Confirmation kids and picking up trash: “Hey, this is fun!”
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Now, let’s also be aware, there are pitfalls in this text: This is not to say that we don’t have to worry about the poor, because according to Jesus here, they’re all happy and blessed. I hope you know that. And going down that road is a reflection on us more than it is about God. This Plain Sermon isn’t a commentary on poverty and spinning it out in a pious light. There’s nothing romantic, beautiful or happy about poverty and systemic injustice — these are monsters that we Jesus-followers are called to confront, to name and work to alleviate and eradicate . It’s a separate sermon, and a constant theme in Luke to see that Jesus is always against injustice and on the side of people who are poor and on the outside.
But, this Sermon on the Plain is about us, today.
And it’s about God, through Christ, again surprising us with joy. Jesus is inviting us today, yet again, to let go, to give up our ways and follow instead after his way. This is a call to action.
So, how will you do that this week, and into this still new year? How will you do that? :) Not how will you recruit or point your finger at what others should and could do. (Sometimes there’s a tendency, for me anyway, to think quickly who else needs to hear this message… :)
What does the way of humility and mercy look like for you? Lent is coming friends. What do you need to let go of, in order to be in and enjoy this blessed state of poverty, hunger, exclusion and defamation that Christ is describing here? [pause]
Well, think about it like this: What is it that weighs you down? Or what are you protecting or hanging onto the tightest?
Dad has shared with me about his time serving as pastor to a congregation in Norway over 40 years ago...and how different that was from being at the center of the Missouri Synod conflicts back in the 1970’s: See, in St. Louis, there was so much money and so much power tied up there at the center of the conflict. Who was going to get whole buildings, if/when the church broke apart? Where would all the investments go? Who would benefit and who would be made to suffer for their actions? Everyone was clinging on so tightly, you see? Grasping for survival, everyone was staking their territory. Dad talks about roots: Roots can be a beautiful image, but they can also render us un-move-able, stubborn—great, oak stakes in the ground, where joy can start to drain away, because the whole focus becomes about protecting the institution, that great immovable oak. It was a bitter time back then, in the church, and especially, in his experience, in St. Louis.
But in Norway, where I was born, it was a community of ex-patriots, a Americans far from home, just trying to be a faithful community of Christ. Strangers in a strange land: Texans in the Arctic Circle, to be specific. There were no stakes, no roots, no territories to protect. There was no jockeying for power and position. They were a mix of denominations: Presbyterians, Methodists, Lutherans. In a way, they were poor and hungry, laughed at by their friends and family. See? And with that poverty came this freedom. They were free to try different things, to learn from each other’s traditions, from the cultures around them, to let go and to trust, to get back to the basics of the Christian faith. Dad talks about those years fondly, as you can tell…That icy Norwegian air, was fresh air and joyful.
I guess that’s an example of the church (of all things) becoming what we cling too in a desperate way, weighing us down. What would it look like for you to “let go”? As opposed to that posture of gripping in a protective, frightened, even angry way...
That’s the symbol, btw, during Offering when the acolyte lifts up the plate. And puts it on the altar. Here we are God! All of what we have is yours! We give you thanks and praise you! Take us now—in all our brokenness and blessing—and use us...
And God does...and God calls us bless-ed.
Do you hear Christ’s call to action here, friends? Can you sense the graciousness? Not from a lofty place, but actually from a seated position...Jesus looks up at them. On the plain.
Can you sense the joy, the fuller life that is being offered to the insiders, that is his disciples, that his church, that is you and me? This is what it looks like to follow!
And it’s nothing for the fainthearted or the immobile oaks. “Let go, put down your nets, those things you used to hang on to, and join me,” Christ beckons, “down this way of mercy and humility...and in this way you will find joy!”
Friends, this is what it looks like to be planted instead by the water, as the prophet Jeremiah poetically describes. Supple, moving. The church always in procession, not static.
My favorite chapter in Taoist literature:
We are born gentle and weak.
At death we are stiff and unyielding.
Green plants are tender and filled with sap.
At their death they are withered and dry.
Thus whoever is stiff and inflexible is a disciple of death.
Whoever is soft and yielding is a disciple of life.
The stiff and unyielding will snap in the wind.
The soft and weak will bend and prevail. (Chapter 76)
Friends in Christ, God comes down to offer us life.
It’s ours for the receiving, it’s ours to open our hands and en-joy. It’s ours for free...and for freedom, this day and always, into eternity. Thanks be to God. AMEN.
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