Sermon on a Stretch of Level Ground

Luke 6:17, 20-26 - Blessed are you poor, hungry, for you will be satisfied

Jesus tells his disciples about two paths - the path of blessings and the one against which he warns with the word "woe." Blessed are the poor, the hungry, the weeping, and those excluded by the world. The stern word "woe" is directed at the rich, the well-fed, the joyful, and those popular among the people. These two paths represent opposing lifestyles and contrasting perspectives - the Gospel and emptiness, life and death, good and evil. However, those who believe that the Savior's words imply that Christianity is only for the suffering and that it demands a life of torment are mistaken. On the contrary, Jesus desires happiness for us, and though it may sound like a truism, it is a truth we should constantly remind ourselves of. It is joy that should define His disciples, not tears. Hope marks those who have faith in Him, not despair.

So why do the speeches that refer to the Sermon on the Plain include such difficult words that contradict human logic regarding happiness and a fulfilled life? By contrasting poverty with wealth, hunger with satiety, and crying with laughter, Jesus highlights two attitudes toward God. Poor people attribute everything to the Lord, and they are aware that they have nothing to give Him in return. The hungry live in the desire for the Lord; their longing for Him is still alive within them; they seek Him with their whole lives, feeding on Him, yet remain insatiable for His love. Those who cry now can find solace only in Him, knowing that no human values will alleviate their sadness. The suffering of the persecuted and rejected only has meaning when it is endured for Jesus, when the person experiencing it, or the entire community, chooses not to compromise with a world that questions the value of the Gospel.

The wealthy, well-fed, content, and popular individuals outlined in the second part of this speech may indeed claim to have found happiness and success in life, but no one can assure its longevity. In fact, they rely little on God because they construct their prosperity through their own efforts, feeling self-sufficient as if everything is owed solely to them. This perspective on life, contrary to appearances, is dangerously fragile - it shatters when faced with adversity or when it encounters weakness, emptiness, loneliness, and self-doubt. Nonetheless, as long as they bask in wealth and popularity, they elevate themselves to the status of gods. They proclaim their own visions of progress, drawing crowds with eloquent words and personal charisma. They resemble false prophets, peddling illusions and willing to do anything for the sake of applause.
Where is the dividing line between the two?

Can we truly say of the first group, "Yes, these are the Lord's disciples," and of the second group, "These are those who have rejected God and live as if He does not exist?" Let's look around us. Isn't one of the greatest problems facing the Church the belief that one can be saved in one's own way, even alongside people who owe everything to the Lord, not to themselves? Isn't it a troubling phenomenon to hungrily consume various types of spiritual novelties, trendy schools of spirituality, and teachings from successive "prophets," leading to a heaviness of heart and satiety that inevitably results in indifference or a piety that detaches itself from life?

But let's also look into our own hearts. How poor are we before the Lord, hungry for His presence, seeking only Him for consolation? How much courage do we have to refrain from shouting about persecution to distract attention from our own pride and instead endure rejection in humility when the Gospel does not guarantee popularity in this world? To what extent can we empty ourselves of the experiences, patterns, and somewhat rotten views we've accumulated throughout our lives - our own perceptions of the Church and evangelization - so that He may fill our hearts with His Spirit and lead us to discover the truth that with Him, everything is new, that only He is our wealth and power?

One more thought. In this Gospel account, Luke engages us in a profoundly personal way. Moses received the tablets with commandments at Sinai. They were God's work, and the writing on them was God's writing, engraved on the tablets (Exodus 32:15ff.). He came down from the mountain holding the two tablets of the Testimony. They recorded the Revelation he had received. And what about Jesus-Moses? What did he bring down to the waiting disciples? Let us return to the text of the Gospel: "He spent the whole night praying to God. When the day came, he called his disciples and chose twelve from among them, whom he also called apostles..."

This is the result of the all-night prayer. Here are the new boards. A new record – not carved in stone but written on hearts – as Jeremiah had foretold: " But this is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel after those days—oracle of the LORD. I will place my law within them and write it upon their hearts; I will be their God, and they shall be my people" (Jer 31:33).

 So, what message do we ultimately receive? Here, Jesus-Moses, after spending a whole night in prayer on the mountain, comes down to his disciples. He brings with him living tablets – the Apostles (Luke likely mentions them in pairs for a reason: James and John; Philip and Bartholomew; Matthew and Thomas…). Deep within their beings is written a new law – blessings. Four blessings. Although, according to St. Luke, they can actually be reduced to one, the first: "Blessed are you, the poor, for the kingdom of God belongs to you." Just as with the tablets of Moses, the writing on the hearts of the Apostles is the writing of God. The blessing of poverty is neither a moral lesson nor a criticism of wealth. Instead, it is an invitation to experience grace. The blessing of poverty is God's work within us – a reality only for those who have allowed God to place it in their hearts. It is a gift. That’s why it stands as an extraordinary testimony. Not the heroism of man but the power of God.

Until next time
fr. george