O God of healing, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.

With the beautiful Brahms motet and the brain-scrambling passage in 1 Corinthians about resurrection, I don’t know if you could hear the connections between Jeremiah and Luke, but I want to call them to your attention. This is a lectionary pairing that is striking to me – possibly because we haven’t heard it read in church for a dozen years. (Having a sixth Sunday in Epiphany in our lectionary year C turns out to be rare because of church calendar idiosyncrasies.) The prophet Jeremiah is addressing his nation with judgment and lamentation for its apostasy – its abandonment of its covenant relationship with the Holy One. He says the ways in which the nation has missed the mark (of Love) are engraved on the hearts of the people because their obstinate and cowardly behaviors go so deep, they are marred to the core. Jeremiah employs the metaphor of a dried-up shrub to describe the nation that has turned toward its own strength and away from the Holy One. The nation is so compromised that it will not even see when relief comes – when good comes. It’s an ancient way of saying, “they wouldn’t know a good thing if it knocked them in the head.”

Don’t be like a dried-up shrub, Jeremiah is saying to the nation. Transplant yourself near to the Holy One. Be like a well-watered tree. Trusting in the Holy One is like a tree transplanted near a stream of water so that it doesn’t fear heat or drought, and it doesn’t cease to bear fruit. Bearing fruit is an ancient way of describing visible deeds of loving kindness, works of right-relationship with neighbors and with God. “Be like that,” Jeremiah says. “The Holy One will search and evaluate the heart of the nation according to the fruit of the nation’s practices, the nation’s deeds of loving kindness”. Alas, what is left out of our reading is Jeremiah’s reminder to keep the Sabbath holy, “for the sake of your lives,” he says, “do not work on the Sabbath. Refrain from productive and consumptive behaviors one day a week.” And the chapter concludes with these sad words. “But they did not listen; they stiffened their necks and would not hear or receive instruction.” The whole point is deeds of loving kindness, and they are impossible to do, they are impossible to sustain, when we get cut off from the Source of All Being. In this passage of Jeremiah, curse and blessing are consequences of choices made. Curses and blessings are not so much punishments and rewards, as they are descriptions of wrong-relationship and right-relationship. The Torah and the Prophets were clear that those who were poor, hungry, alienated, or needy in any way were deserving recipients of generous and caring responses from the Holy One and the people.[1] When the nation didn’t care for them, the nation was not in right-relationship with God.

When I encounter the Lukan beatitudes this time, I hear blessings described as being like a well-watered tree and woes or curses as being like a dried-up shrub – descriptions of needing the Holy One versus relying on one’s own strength. In our Gospel portion for today, Jesus has been speaking to his twelve apostles, and a great crowd of disciples, and a great multitude of people of people from all kinds of places who were seeking relief and restoration. Never one to shy away from hyperbole, Luke writes, “and all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed all of them.” Then, Luke says, Jesus looked up at his disciples. Notice that he’s not calling out to the great multitude, and he’s not addressing just his leadership team — the twelve apostles. Jesus is speaking to his followers, those who wish to learn from him. (That’s what disciple means.) 

Jesus looked at his disciples and declared God’s blessing on them for being poor, hungry, bereft, excluded and defamed for his sake, or for humanity’s sake is another way to understand “the son of man.”. It’s a peculiar honor, indeed. Notice, though, that in Luke’s account, Jesus was not talking about people at large – about the poverty of the crowds or the hunger and sorrow and marginalization that can create conditions of tremendous suffering. Luke indicates that Jesus was speaking directly to the suffering that Jesus’ disciples were enduring on account of following him. I hear Jesus saying, “God bless you for getting into this with me.” You who are poor, yours is the realm of God. (Not in the future, but right now.) You will be fed, and you will experience joy, and you will experience the heaven of God, which is another way to say, shalom or deep peace or well-being. “God bless you for putting everything on the line. And woe to you who are rich and full, scoffing at the naivete or laughing at the foolishness of practicing loving kindness to the point of poverty and hunger, sorrow and slander.” You will not experience the true joy of the realm of God unless or until you engage in extreme generosity. Was Jesus actually looking up at those people too? Were they also among the disciples in those earliest days? We don’t know, but I think so and I actually hope so, because we certainly are among the disciples now who are being challenged by Luke’s critique of wealth that is not used for the benefit of the community so that each gives according to ability and each receives according to need. 

Theologian Mark Davis describes the Luke beatitudes as describing the difference between is and ought.[2} How it is – a yawning gap between over-resourced and under-resourced, and how it ought to be – no gap at all. Unfortunately our lectionary cuts the reading off in Jesus’ mid-thought. “Woe to you when all speak well of you,” Jesus said. “But,” he continued, “I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you….be children of the Most high who is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful just as God is merciful.” In other words, even when you are on the receiving end of the bad behavior of others because of your faithfulness to the Love of God, respond with Love. Respond in Love – no matter what.

So Jesus was speaking directly to his disciples, giving them assurance of their blessedness and giving them instruction for how to respond to the assurance of their blessedness. Although Jesus was addressing his followers, it occurs to me that there were others within earshot, those from the multitudes who were seeking healing. It occurs to me that maybe we are really not so different at Emmanuel Church – some disciples and learners, others not identifying as Jesus followers but seeking welcome. In seeking hospitality – we are also seeking healing. Often we come to church somewhat depleted – emotionally, physically and spiritually. Often we come to church fearful, angry, and betrayed by some circumstance or institution or person in our lives. Sometimes we aren’t fully conscious of our depletion or our fear or our anger or our hurt. As a crowd, (even a small crowd) we come with varying degrees of awareness about our own unclean spirits or our own dis-ease. Maybe we come out of habit. Maybe we are curious. Maybe we hope to hear a good word, or spectacular music, receive a warm embrace, have the chance to be heard, get something to eat or drink. Maybe we hope to make a connection with the Divine, with ourselves, with others. Whatever our hope, we all need healing for our bodies and souls. 

It also occurs to me that when a crowd (even a small crowd) of people with unclean spirits and dis-ease get together, there’s bound to be discomfort caused by competing or conflicting needs and depleted resources. And then I think, “welcome to the Church!” We are a motley crew maybe not so different from the first ragtag bunches of people who were first drawn to the healing power of Jesus. And if you arrived at church hoping that either you are the only one with needs to be met, or hoping that no-one else has needs that you will be asked to meet, you may be in for a rough morning. 

But if you arrived at church hoping for a chance to give thanks to God for all the many ways that you are blessed, then you are in luck! This will be a good morning for you! Give thanks to God that you were able to get here at all. If you are able to sit in a pew in this lovely worship space, give thanks to God. If you are able to breathe unassisted, give thanks to God. If you are able to stand and to walk, give thanks to God. If you are able to move and feel your hands and your feet, give thanks to God. If you are able to see or hear or taste or smell – to use any or all of those senses, give thanks to God. Now notice who else is in the room. Give thanks to God that you are not the only one here this morning. If you will be able to offer your hand to another in Peace, give thanks to God. If you hunger for the bread and wine of communion, give thanks to God. Or if you desire a blessing, give thanks to God for your desire. 

As far as I can tell, giving thanks to God is the beginning of healing. And giving thanks to God in the midst of a crowd (even a small crowd) (even if you give thanks in silence) begins a healing process in you and in everyone around you. Giving thanks is what replenishes our depleted selves – our emotionally, physically and spiritually depleted selves. Giving thanks to God calms our fears, assuages our anger, provides forgiveness sufficient for the betrayals. Thanksgiving purifies our unclean spirits. Thanksgiving heals our dis-ease. Thanksgiving is a sacrifice – because we have to release our hold on our dis-ease, and our self-sufficiency. We will have to let go of our incapacitating anxiety and our playing too big or too small. We will have to open our hands and our hearts for healing and acknowledge the truth of our belovedness, becoming needy for the sake of the realm of God. The promise of our scripture and our tradition is that the reward of our sacrifice of thanksgiving will dwarf whatever the cost. Offer to God, today, a sacrifice of thanksgiving, and respond in Love, no matter what.

← Back to sermons page