Luke 6:17-26 · Blessings and Woes
Flatliners
Luke 6:17-26
Sermon
by Richard A. Wing
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What would happen if on this Sunday we were to come to Jesus and ask, "Tell us flat-out what you're about?" Jesus might, on this particular day, say, "I have come to give comfort to the uncomfortable and to make uncomfortable those who have comfort." He has a way of flattening things out. Jesus is a flatliner.

What if we were to ask that question of the entire Bible? "Don't give me the six-week course. Just give me a compendium of that battered and complex book. What does it look like?" He would have to say, "God made the world in love, and for some unknown reason, the human family rejects that love and chooses to go in a different direction. God will not reject the world that rejects God. God continues a mysterious and relentless pursuit of us to the end of time." This is the "flat-out" bottom line of the Gospel.

In the Gospel of Luke, it says that Jesus went down to the flats and began to speak to the people. The Gospel of Matthew would find Jesus going to the hill. But on both the mount and the flats the message is the same. He gives us the flatline. He levels with them. He flattens every category of the human family. And if you can't hear that in the text, you can't hear it rightly. Finally, all of us are on a level place; all are on one level with the Gospel. Jesus flattens out all categories. We all receive the same blessings and demands. It's not doled out according to our abilities, our good looks, or our charm. Everything's flattened out by the message that Jesus gives on the plains.

It's a difficult world that we live in right now. It's kind of a confusing world when all of the traditional roles have been flattened out. We don't know which end is up most of the time. What can we say of traditional roles? I was told, "Just be a good boy, go off to college, and you'll have a career that you'll stay with the rest of your life." That turned out not to be the case for most of the persons in my generation. They have had at least three careers. Somebody said, "This generation will have twelve." I felt that we owed it to our children to send them to college, but they don't know exactly what to do with their education. It's a totally different world. The roles make it even more complex. What are the roles of men and women? What's the mix?

I love the story about a boy and a girl who were trying to find a game that they could play together. The boy was picking out games he thought he was good at. He said, "I'd like to play some baseball." She said, "NO, you're a little better and I haven't been on a girls' baseball team. I don't want to do that."

"How about football?"

"No. Way too rough. You guys tackle. I don't want to do that."

"Well, how about soccer?"

"Well, I've played that, but I don't think that's the one."

So, the boy, who's trying to be accommodating and find out what these new roles are, finally turns to her and says, "Why don't we play house?"

She said, "That's great! I'll be the daddy."

In our text, the blessings begin. People are healed of diseases; the troubled are cured; the unclean spirits are cast out. People touched Jesus as He went by. I like the text. It says, "All of them knew that He loved them." Magic! So far, it's good. There are more blessings. The poor will get the kingdom! The hungry are going to be filled. If you weep -- you'll laugh. Those hated and excluded on account of me will have joy and reward in heaven!

Then comes the bad news.

Jesus says, "Woe to you rich." Everyone of us is among the five percent wealthy in the world. So none of us can escape. "Woe to you, Dick, and the rest of you. You've already got all you're going to get." The question is: "Is just getting things all you really want?"

"Woe to you who are full. You're going to be hungry later." The point is: our hunger is only fixed when we have paid attention to the hunger of the spirit and fed that.

"Woe to you who are laughing. You're going to cry." Only those who think of others as much as themselves really know how to laugh. When life is over, God will have the last word. It will all be restored. All of the lame will be restored. All of those things that you have loved and lost will be restored. This is good news. That's why we laugh. But on a daily basis oftentimes we don't have a reason to laugh. When we laugh it is because we know the last word will be restoration.

"Woe to you with a good reputation." Big deal. The false prophets had a good reputation. Is that really what you want? Be very careful, because even after these edicts are given by Jesus, He's still in a flatliner mode. He flattens us all out. He takes us all on the level. He puts every category on an even keel. Please hear this or you will miss the gospel message here. I have known in my life some very wealthy people in whom I have seen the highest spiritual heights and I have also seen those heights in some very poor people. In my life I have found the worst in both rich and poor. We're still flatlining. Being rich and being poor is not the object of the gospel message today, and if you think it is, you'll miss the real message.

Instead, there's something else. What is it? It's the lens. After making us all equal, Jesus wants us to see everything with new and different eyes.

Hasid was called in to his rabbi. He said, "You rang? You want me?"

"Yes, we need to talk."

You see, Hasid was rich and didn't share his wealth, and everybody in the temple knew it. So the rabbi brought him into his home and took him to a window and said, "Tell me what you see."

He said, "I see a piece of glass and through it I can see all of the people walking up and down the road."

"Very good. Now come over here. What do you see here?"

"This is a mirror and in it I can only see myself."

And then the rabbi looked at him and said, "Do you know what the difference is between these two pieces of glass? One of them has been coated with silver."

And it seems that within the human family, once we have coated ourselves with silver, we can only see ourselves. It doesn't have to be. Jesus flattened us out so that all of us are capable of being able to see as He wants us to see, every human being equal in the sight of God. So the rabbi told Hasid to get a new lens.

Through the lens of Jesus, I can hear the voice of Christ speaking to us even in this moment: "If you had only six months to live, what would you do, and if you're not doing it right now, why not?" It's the lesson for all of us. There are people in our midst, even right now, who are teaching us that lesson, if we will receive it; who live daily in the flux and flow, wondering if the next day will come. Listen to them because in them is the voice of the kingdom. If all of us are not living that way, then why not?

So Jesus helps us to see through some things. Jesus helps us to see through our persistent pain, because it is the common uniting factor of all of us.

We're united here. We are united by our pain. Sometime in our lives, all of our losses are going to be exactly the same. Ah, we know that in the back of our minds. We are all one people in our pain. It's the common link.

The church which I served in San Diego was right on the edge of a large gay/lesbian community. Our door was open to them. We never found a lot of persons coming to our church, because there was another church that was largely made up of gay and lesbian persons. As we'd interview them and invite them to church, they'd say, "We're more comfortable elsewhere." I remember a man who had bumped into me on the street and later called me at the church. I didn't remember exactly who he was. "Would you come to my home?" he asked. I said, "Sure." I went there and discovered that he was bedridden. He was not well. Sitting on a chest of drawers was one of those frames that has six holes in it for six different pictures. Five of the holes were empty. I said, "Do you want to tell me about that?" He said, "I have lost five of my friends this year. I can no longer bear to look at their faces in front of me, and I had to take them down, and hold their memories in my life. And now, I, too, am dying." I went back to the church. I assigned a Stephen Minister, who had lost a sister and three other of her closest friends during the last year. They knew that they had a common language in their losses which Jesus has promised He will march us through.

I read recently about a nineteenth century soldier who saw with the lens of Jesus. On a memorial that was dedicated to him at St. Paul's Cathedral in London, it says, "To Charles George Gordon, who always and everywhere gave his strength to the weak, his substance to the poor, his sympathy to the suffering, and his heart to God." What a marvelous tribute! What a marvelous description of the lens through which we are invited to see the world. Jesus' pain in the midst of all of us is the pain of putting all of these things in front of the people and the people still insisting on blindness.

I have a friend who talks about the disciples being the "chosen frozen." They were the persons who really didn't see what was there. He wrote a column that said, "I can just see Jesus speaking to them on the plains, speaking to them on the levee, and Peter speaks first, 'Are we supposed to write this down, Jesus?' James says, 'Will we have a test?' And Philip says, 'I don't have any paper.' Bartholomew says, 'Do we have to turn this in?' John says, 'The other disciples didn't have to learn this.' Matthew says, 'May I be excused for the men's room?' Judas says, 'What does this have to do with real life?' And then there's a Pharisee that represents many of us who says, 'Where are your anticipatory set and your objectives in the cognitive domain?' " And it is at that moment that Jesus wept. He wept not because of unkindness. Jesus weeps over Jerusalem and over the chosen frozen because of the many times that we wrap ourselves up in meetings that do not matter, dealing with splitting hairs of theology and other things that do not matter. Thank God we have this place where we are not so much committed to the theological hair splitting as we are to the common suffering of the human family and giving ourselves to that common pain. Jesus helps us. He helps us see our common pain. He gives us a new lens.

There's a novel about a missionary who is being held prisoner. The man who was holding him was involved in a revolution that he wasn't too clear about. So the missionary, who seemed to take a certain kind of delight in prison, started questioning the guard. He asked the guard what he was about and shook the guard's foundation greatly. The missionary said, "What do you want? What do you really want in life? What is your revolution about?" And the man said in a vague way, "I think I want to be comfortable." You know, we teach our children this. Who will teach them the lens of Jesus to make friends with their uncomfortable side, and the things that are said to them from the mouth of Jesus that should make all of us uncomfortable? Love, according to Jesus, is the willingness to become uncomfortable for the sake of somebody else. Do we really want comfort for our children? It's in the process of giving ourselves away to things that count that we are given all of these things that the gospel promises. We're supposed to know these things. But we teach contentment.

What if Edison's parents had taught him to be contented? What if Edison's parents had taught him the shame of failure? He had 99 failures before creating the light bulbs that illumine us in this very moment. Is contentment what we really want to teach?

What do we do? We create false theology. We sit around in discussion groups and say, "I think we ought to ask the question, 'Why does God make people naked and poor?' God, why don't You do something about it?" And God answers, "I did do something about it. I gave them you." And still we don't want to hear. I am praying in my own life right now for young people in our congregation, for that matter for young people everywhere. I pray for them everyday to have "divine discontent." Young people have been coming into my office, saying, "I just don't know what to do." "I'm a sophomore." "I'm a junior." "I'm in college." "I just don't know what I want to do with my life." I say, "Great. This is a great opportunity." I would like us to be able to say to that young person in that moment, "How would you like to clear up that question or work on that question by working among the poor in India? How would you like us to send you to South America? How would you like us to have you build houses among the poor in Mexico? You can clear up your question in that way." I don't believe that theology today should be done from the perspective of anything else, but among the perspective of those who are poor. Invite young people to serve in those kinds of places and they will come back, I think, with different problems, problems that they might be thankful for. I would pray for our young people that they will have divine discontentment and that we will help them by sending them away in service.

In the last century Henry David Thoreau asked the question I've wanted to ask and have not had the courage to ask. He gave me the courage. When the telegraph was first put into use, he said, "My understanding is that somehow it was strung from Boston to Texas. I don't know how it got that way, but they sent a message across and it went in the newspaper that instantaneously you could send a message across that wire and it would get there right away." Henry David Thoreau said, "Yes, this is amazing that we can communicate that way." And then he said, "I wonder if the person communicating had anything important to say?"

Now we have the superhighway of information. I was told in seminary that this was coming and now it's here. I like my little CD-ROM. I like all that information. I like all the access, but there's a question dangling out there: "Do we really have something that important to say?" Persons inside the Church should be the first to be able to say, "Yes we do and it's totally counter to our culture. We do have something that says, 'Happy will you be when you pay attention to this and this and this' " -- all of these things that Jesus said on the plain. Henry David Thoreau was just bringing up the fact that we can create all of this stuff and totally miss the ideals of the kingdom.

Charles Laughton faced that question one time and was able to deal with it in a way that we might want. He was in Nebraska speaking to a group of people. He was quoting Shakespeare and all kinds of other literature. He made a mistake one night. He began quoting scripture and people started fidgeting around and becoming disinterested. All of a sudden, right in the middle of quoting from scripture, he quit and sat down. There was a man in the audience who pointed to an uneducated farmer in Nebraska and said, "Mr. Laughton, would you allow him to recite scripture?" And that man in coveralls came to the platform and recited by heart Psalm 23. Laughton had the courage to say, "I came to you and I knew the words, but I've seen now a man who knows the author."

We have been entrusted with knowing that difference. If we don't know that difference we need to decipher that difference and to seek it with our whole hearts. What is the difference God wants in us? The courage to create the life of the spirit, in a culture that turns its back on it, by getting people to look through the lens of heaven. And then, for those kinds of people, it may be said, like a paraphrase I read of Psalm 1: Blessed are the man and the woman, the young person, the child.Blessed are they who have grown beyond their greed and put an end to their hatred and no longer nourish illusions.But they delight in the way things are and keep their hearts open, day and night.They are like trees planted near flowing rivers, which bear fruit when they are ready.Their leaves will not fall or wither.Everything they do, everything these people do will succeed, finally, if not immediately!

And Jesus came down to the flats, leveled us all out, loved us the same, and saved us! May we be anxious to share this good news. Amen. "

CSS Publishing, Lima, Ohio, Deep Joy For A shallow W, by Richard A. Wing