Ash Wednesday, 02/10/2016

Sermon on Luke 6:20, by David Zersen

BLESSED ARE YOU WHO ARE POOR

We are in the midst of political campaigning in the U.S. and while it’s a process we undertake with circus-like enthusiasm, all of us have concerns as to whether we can endure this carnival atmosphere for another nine months. Fortunate are the Canadians whose entire election process for a new prime minister lasts only eleven weeks! In the process of listening to the diatribes, the jeremiads, and the occasional attempts at great oratory, there are some things that embolden and move us while other matters trouble and challenge us. One of the issues that concerns me is the fact that all of the candidates for president seem to express a concern for the disappearing middle class, but not one that I have ever heard has any heart for the lower class. Why is that?

I thought about this last Sunday at the close of the service when instead of saying “Go in Peace. Serve the Lord!” the pastor said, “Go in Peace,” and the Assistant followed it with “Remember the Poor.” It was perhaps a good line to preach to the candidates for president this year. On the other hand, if we think about the full New Testament meaning of the word “poor,” the Dismissal has something to say to us, especially on this Ash Wednesday.

Who are the Poor?

In the first century, and in the New Testament literature in general, the word “poor” has at least two specific meanings. On the one hand, Jesus brings the Gospel to the poor because their disobedience of the commandments or their occupations make them outsiders to the religious leadership of the time. Joachim Jeremias, one of my great teachers years ago at the University of Goettingen, stressed that the poor may have been robbers, deceivers and adulterers, but they are also tax collectors who exploit people by charging more than is required. (New Testament Theology, 1971, 110) Thus, they are poor because they are regarded by others as disenfranchised; they are nobodies, disgraced minorities, and worthless reprobates.

On the other hand, Jeremias continues, the poor are also those who actually understand their situation. They recognize that they have nothing with which to commend themselves; they are spiritually oppressed. They know they are hopeless cases. They are sinners who do not expect reinstatement. When Matthew, an alternative message to Luke’s, records these words, he clarifies that these are not just poor people; they are more fully poor in spirit. And because they are despairing and humble, they are blessed—blessed because they could be open to the good news that Jesus preaches. For them it is a blessing to know that in their predicament, there is one who reaches out to them and says, “I’m here to lift you up!”

I find it interesting that many teenagers say that the song made famous by Josh Groban, “You Raise me Up,” is sung by a lover to his partner. Many others feel that the words address the way in which God lifts us up to be what we need to become. These are the words:

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

Metaphorically, of course, it is precisely what Christ does for those who know they are poor; who understand that without someone to raise them up, they too easily remain the impoverished outsiders that have no hope for the future.

Are we among the poor?

On this Ash Wednesday, many in the Christian tradition will participate in the imposition of ashes, hearing the words, as we are marked on our foreheads, “Dust you are, and to dust you shall return.” Nothing could be more demeaning, and it’s a true mark of our understanding of ourselves as being among God’s poor and disenfranchised, that we allow this to be done to us.

Let us reconsider for a moment why politicians mentioned earlier are so uncomfortable in talking about raising the status of the working class, the lower class, the poor. Do they pretend, as has often been the case in politics that such people don’t count, that they don’t exist? Roughly twenty-five percent of our population fits in this category, many of them hard-working people, some having only part-time jobs, and some being unemployed and surviving on worker’s compensation, welfare or Social Security. They would like to be part of the Middle Class where opportunities are supposedly better. All too often, they are not happy being who they are and think that by some form of rugged individuality they can aspire to being more acceptable, more privileged.

There is an interesting theological dimension to such a reflection. If we are not happy with being who we are, with the degree to which we feel acceptable to both family and friends, or even to God, we may think that by struggling to lift ourselves up we can improve our situation. Deep within all humans, there is the spiritual assumption that striving harder is the answer to full fellowship or acceptance. The theological dilemma is that such striving is a dead end because as Jesus once put it, “a bad tree can’t produce good fruit.” (Matt. 7:18) When we accept the assessment of Jesus on our own situation, we can recognize, even celebrate, that we are among God’s poor. We don’t need to struggle to enter the more prestigious group, the better class, because, now already we can be accepted just as we are.

This is why on Ash Wednesday we allow ashes to be imposed on our foreheads. We are blessed to be poor. We rejoice in our poverty as outcasts, sinners, and disenfranchised. Only when we do so, does Jesus delight in raising us up. Only when we do so, does the cross have meaning and purpose for us.

Do we hear the blessing?

When in the Dismissal we are encouraged to remember the poor, we can hear a stunning call to look beyond ourselves and reach out to others. We reach out to those who, because they know they have nothing with which to commend themselves, seek an outstretched hand and a kind word. However, the full meaning of poverty is embraced by us only when we know that we are included among the poor. And, more importantly, the full meaning is embraced when we know that the blessing belongs to those who know they are poor. At some point in this Lenten season we will surely sing, “Nothing in my hand I bring, simply to thy cross I cling.” When we do, let us remember why it is a blessing to be among God’s poor.

In a relatively recent (2012) Pulitzer Prize winning play by Ayad Akhtar, the protagonist, a Muslim in the U.S. who tries to surrender his identity in order to fit in, is regarded as “Disgraced” (the name of play) by his nephew. Amir Kapoor, the lead character, has thrown aside his religious heritage in order to fit in and find an appropriate place in the corporate world. He has become self-righteous and opinionated, thinking more highly of himself than others do. His nephew regards his uncle as a nobody, a person who doesn’t belong anywhere, because he has lost what makes him authentic. As the play comes to its close, Amir stands alone, depressed, knowing that his problem is of his own making.

To a great degree, this is our problem as well. We can try so hard to acquire acceptable labels and an appropriate status that we find it difficult to understand what the true meaning of Jesus’ words, “Blessed are you who know you are poor.” Blessed are you who in your acknowledged poverty of spirit can dance with those whom Jesus forgives and sets free.

* * *

The Lenten season that we enter today remembers the forty day fast kept by Jesus during his time in the wilderness of Judea. It may seem burdensome for us to think about the penitential season that lies before us. In this context, however, it’s interesting to reflect on a much stricter penitential practice in another Christian body, the Coptic Christians of Egypt. They fast 261 days out of 365 each year. For them, this discipline means that they will eat no food from midnight until sundown, and during the fasting period, only vegan cuisine will be allowed. By contrast, we who receive ashes upon our foreheads today need simply confess with the tax collector, “Lord, be merciful to me a sinner.”

With such a confession, however, we know that we are being prepared for days and years of jubilant and faithful discipleship. We who are blessed by the forgiveness and love that embraces only those who know they are poor, can anticipate with joy the opportunities given us to serve God’s poor.

It is a high calling.

Hymns: “Blessed are the poor in Spirit.” (Hymn tune: Nettleton)

“Come you sinners, poor and needy.” (Hymn tune: Restoration)

“Be thou my vision.” (Hymn tune: Slane)

Prof. Dr. Dr., President Emeritus, David Zersen
Austin, Texas
E-Mail: djzersen@aol.com

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