Plain Speaking

This sermon was given at our Sunday morning service on 13th February 2022. The Gospel was Luke 6:17-26. I hope you enjoy reading it.

Our Gospel reading this morning is one we rarely hear in church. That might surprise you? It’s one we know well, of course. But actually, prior to this morning, the last time we had this reading was in February 2019, and the time before that, incredibly, was over 15 years ago – 11^th February 2007.

So, in 15 years, we’ve only heard this reading twice; once this morning, and once in February three years ago, when the biggest news of the day was Piers Morgan getting all hot under the collar that bakery chain Greggs had released a vegan sausage roll. Do you remember when that was the sort of thing we actually thought was worthy of getting angry about? Since we last heard this reading, the country has been busy to say the least – we’ve left the EU, we’ve seen new leaders of all three of the traditional main political parties in the UK – including a new prime minister. New political parties have been formed – the Independent Group, and the Brexit Party, and renamed – to Change UK, and Reform UK, and – in the case of the former, fallen by the wayside. And – of course – come the end of 2019, small news stories started to appear in our papers and on our television screens about a new flu-type virus appearing in the Hubei province of China. It makes you all nostalgic for Piers Morgan blowing a gasket over pastry, doesn’t it?

 

I'm getting hungry now (does that make me blessed?)

It almost feels like this morning’s Gospel has topped and tailed the last three years to me. Like bookends. There is a saying, apocryphally claimed to be a Chinese curse – “may you live in interesting times”; the point is that life is better when the world around you is boring. When historians sit up, and take note of the times in which you are living, the chances are that things are not going so well. I’m hopeful that things are going to become much less interesting from now on…

 

But, what of our Gospel that precedes and – hopefully – rounds off these past three ‘interesting’ years? What can be said about this most famous passage; the Beatitudes, otherwise known as the Sermon on the Mount, that we don’t already know? We all know it; especially those of us who are fans of Monty Python – ‘blessed are the cheese-makers’.

What can be said about it? Well, to start with, it isn’t.

This morning’s reading wasn’t the Sermon on the Mount. It wasn’t the Beatitudes.

To start with, it didn’t actually take place on a mountain. The first line said “Jesus came down with them”. Jesus and his disciples come down the mountain for this one. If anything, this is the sermon on the plain.

The Sermon on the Mount takes place in the Gospel of Matthew. This is the Gospel of Luke. And whether Luke told the story of a different – but similar – sermon that Christ preached, or whether he decided to change its location doesn’t really matter; but the differences do. Luke wants to emphasise something different in the sermon in his Gospel than Matthew does in his.

We’ve already seen the first difference; the location, but there are more. Perhaps you spotted one when I read out the gospel. I referred to it earlier actually; Luke has some blessings missing – there is no reference to the peace-makers, for example. Monty Python clearly based their Life of Brian scene on Matthew’s Gospel. In fact, whereas Matthew has nine blessings, Luke only has four – but he also adds some woes. Luke’s version is not just comfort. It challenges too; woe to those of us who are rich. Woe to those of us have enough to eat. Woe to those of us who are happy(!). Woe to those of us with a good reputation. Woe, woe, woe, woah! This is challenging stuff!

But, do you know what? Even with all of that discomfort, I prefer this morning’s Gospel. And that’s for the last difference. I’ve already said that Matthew’s sermon is high on a mountain, and that in Luke’s gospel, Jesus comes down the mountain. Matthew’s gospel sermon is high and spiritual. Luke’s is literally down to earth. “Blessed are those who are poor in spirit”, says Matthew. “Blessed are you, who are poor”, says Luke. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness”, says Matthew. “Blessed are you who are just hungry”, says Luke. Luke makes it real. He makes it immediate. This isn’t a sermon about spiritual matters, it’s about real life, here and now. If you’re poor, says Jesus, you’re not cursed; you’re still loved and cared for by God – you’re still blessed. If you’re hungry, says Jesus, you’re not cursed; you’re still loved and cared for by God – you’re still blessed. If you’re grieving, says Jesus, you’re not cursed; you’re still loved and cared for by God – you’re still blessed. If you’re hated by those around you, if your reputation lies in tatters, or you’re excluded and subjected to lies and gossip, you’re not cursed; you’re still loved and cared for by God – you’re still blessed.

And, what of those woes? Those are not curses either. They’re simply facts of life. This is the way God’s kingdom works – he casts down the mighty from their thrones, and lifts up the humble. He fills the hungry with good things, and he sends the rich empty away. Wealth fades; money might talk, but it mostly says goodbye. Food rots. Mornings of joy give for evenings of tearfulness. Reputations can turn on a pin. If any of these things are your source of comfort or reliance, then woe to you. Woe to you, truly. These are not constants. The last three years – since we last heard this Gospel – have shown us clearly just how quickly tables can turn. You need to find your security in something that lasts.

 

In the end, we are all more equal than we think, says Christ – on a literal level plain. God’s kingdom is there for all; rich or poor, hungry or full, happy or sad, liked or disliked. For those who look to it for security, there are blessings. For those who look elsewhere, well – there are no curses, but just beware – a fresh-out-of-the-oven vegan sausage roll may well last longer. But probably not in Piers Morgan’s house.

 

Amen.