Seek first the kindom
Luke 6: 17-26
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
February 13, 2022
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Grayscale photo of a White man with gray hair and beard, wearing a knit hat and a parka, kneeling on a subway platform, holding a sign on a post that reads "Seeking human kindness". |
The funny thing about using one of Jesus’ sermons as a text is that it practically preaches itself. I mean, really, it’s pretty straightforward. Not a lot of mystery here. Unlike the beatitudes in Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount, in Luke’s Sermon on the Plain or level place, Jesus addresses people directly. Instead of addressing a spiritual state of being in the third person, “blessed are the poor in spirit”, Jesus speaks personally to those affected by the hoarding of wealth and says, “blessed are you who are poor”.
Well, straightforward except for that word “blessed”. If any of us have ever been or are poor and hungry, in a state of grief or trauma, or having people hate us, we know it’s hardly an occasion for blessing. It almost sounds like “blessed are you who are in pain or who are suffering”. The Greek word for “blessed” can also mean happy, enviable, fortunate—as if congratulations are in order. There have been and there still exist twisted Christian theologies that teach that God makes us worthy through our suffering, God disciplines us, disciples us through our suffering, God works through our suffering for our eternal good.
THIS IS NOT THAT SERMON.
THAT SERMON IS NOT BIBLICAL.
THAT SERMON IS WRONG.
When Jesus says that those who suffer are blessed, it is because God favors the marginalized. The poor and hungry, the grieving and traumatized, those who are hated are blessed because their fortunes will be reversed. Luke’s gospel condemns wealth more than any other book in the Christian scriptures. It begins with Mary’s Magnificat in which the poor will be filled with good things and the rich sent away empty. It was only a few chapters ago that Luke had Jesus quoting from Isaiah, reversing the fortunes of those in prison, freeing the captives, and proclaiming the year of Jubilee when debts are erased and the enslaved are liberated.
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This is Jesus’ “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable” sermon, but it goes further than that. Not only here but throughout Luke’s gospel, the circumstances, the human condition of the poor and the rich, the hungry and the satisfied, the grieving and the high-spirited, the hated and the admired are not only connected but inseparable. The Twitter account for Middle Collegiate Church in New York City recently tweeted, “The most fundamental lie is that we can thrive while our neighbor suffers.”
Good news for the poor is tough news for those who are not poor; God’s love for the poor means tough love for those who have means. Tough love is traditionally reserved for addicts, criminals, and wayward children, some of the very people for whom God has a soft spot. It also seems to be the way of social assistance programs that often make it difficult to get the help and support needed to survive being poor and hungry, as if being poor is a moral failing. Panhandlers are treated as suspicious while any one of us is free to make our own choices with our money. The poor suffer the unjust consequences of being poor: food deserts, lack of healthcare, unequal education. When do the rich suffer the just consequences of being rich?
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The fate of the poor is intertwined with the fate of the rich. In Luke’s gospel Jesus cannot lift up the poor without also chastising the rich for refusing to give alms which was required. Both the poor and the rich are dependent on the other. When Jesus says, “Woe to you who are rich, satisfied, happy and admired”, what he is saying is, “Woe to you who think that what you do doesn’t matter”. Woe to you who stop at sympathy. Woe to you who disregard the trauma of those who suffer.
In the United States, to be poor means you are more likely to be a woman than a man. More likely to be a child than a senior. More likely to be Native American, Black, or Hispanic than White or Asian. More likely to be transgender or queer than cisgender or heterosexual. All of which means not only suffering but trauma, often generations of it, and likely untreated.
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Photo of a dark stormy sky above a golden/green field and white/wood barn with a quote by Peter Levine: "Trauma is perhaps the most avoided, ignored, belittled, denied, misunderstood, and untreated cause of human suffering." |
No matter what we do as Church and as individuals, the first thing we do is to seek the kindom of God, that realm, that reality in which the fate of those who are abundantly well-fed, rich, laughing, and respected is interconnected with the hungry and mourning, the poor and disregarded. Solidarity is more than a feeling of connection or taking the correct position on an issue. Solidarity is mutual regard amongst kindred, when we respond to the pain, suffering, and injustice of others as members of the same compassionate family. Solidarity means knowing what an oppressive structure looks and feels like from the underside and engaging with it from there. Solidarity means being trauma-informed about who we’re trying to help. If we overlook the trauma that comes with poverty and hunger, with grief and discrimination, we perpetuate the harmful cycle and the gap continues to widen.
But that means being informed about our own trauma. If you think you haven’t suffered trauma, the last two years alone have been traumatic, woeful, calamitous for everyone. This isn’t a sermon about answers but about awareness. Awareness of our own pain and the pain we perpetuate in those who are ‘othered’ in our culture. Awareness of when our hearts are soft and when they are hardened. Awareness of our blessedness and generosity. Awareness of what we have done and not done and the need for repentance and reparation. (You can tell it’s a long Epiphany when Lenten themes enter a few weeks beforehand.) Awareness of how we engage in ministry and that opportunities to be generous and attentive will continue to present themselves. Awareness that as the old hymn goes, “all children of the living God are surely kin to me.”
God’s kindom come. God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven. For thine is the kindom. And ours. Amen.
Benediction – enfleshed.com
Go in the Spirit of our Sibling, Jesus,
who washed the earth off of the feet of those he loved,
who cooked fish with friends on the beach,
who teaches us that in honoring the earthy and the ordinary
that we find ourselves, each other, and the holy.
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