Lent 2016: February 14 - Day 5 (Luke 6:17-26)

Jesus is fresh off an all-nighter of prayer, after which He holds what may have been the very first rose ceremony as He picks the 12 disciples who will be His apostles. Judas "Milkshake" Iscariot pricks his finger on a thorn and catalogs the slight for future reference.

Luke raises his eyebrows here and lets out a low whistle. Think it through, he nudges. Jesus spent all night in prayer and then chose his 12 Apostles -- including Judas Iscariot, the man ultimately responsible for his murder. Jesus already knew who He would choose and how they would respond to Him. He already knew Judas would betray Him and may even have chosen him expressly for that purpose. Jesus knew that whoever was going to play the role of the "trusted friend" had to be a smooth, charismatic, sociopathic, consummate actor (He chose well).

Knowing that He chose Judas with full knowledge of what was to come -- and that it was God's will that He do so -- tells us that Gethsemane was not just one but many, many nights of lonely, agonizing prayer.

The morning sermon on the plain is the speech of a CEO who has had to make some tough decisions about His team for the good of the company moving forward. Human nature being what it is, there are some among the disciples (not the 12) who are understandably ticked off ("Simon Peter? Are you kidding me?"). Jesus is about to outline His expectations for worker performance and the consequences for failing to meet them. The Jews, meanwhile, are having a serious case of deja vu. "Wait. Isn't that Mount Gerizim on the left? And Mount Ebal on the right?"
 
Jesus (the Prophet Like Moses) steps up to the lectern, checks his notes and begins to bless the disciples -- not the crowd, the disciples. These are the true workers, the rank and file. These are the guys who work a little harder, a little longer without recognition or extra pay. They're the ones that never make manager and yet could run circles round Joe College-Apostle should he ever bother to visit the factory floor.

Jesus looks these guys right in the eye and says, "I get it. You're mad at me right now so let me tell you what's really going on."

And with that, Jesus proceeds to pull back a corner of the veil (not too hard! It's not time to tear it yet) to reveal the original man-behind-the-curtain and the true fabric of reality.

A drone's eye view of the scene shows us that Jesus is at the epicenter of what will be the most devastating and liberating explosion in human history. Immediately around Him are the apostles, next the disciples, Jews from Judea and Jerusalem, and finally Gentiles from Tyre and Sidon. All are reaching inward for His Word and for healing. Jesus, radiating "virtue," is about to set off a bomb.

"Blessed (happy) are you who are poor, hungry and grieving. Blessed are you when people hate you, ostracize you and count you unworthy of respect on account of the Son of Man."

The shockwave is met with a collective "meh." The crowd is puzzled. The apostles think, "He's not talking about me." The disciples think, "How does this help me?" The Jews think, "That's not the way this works." And the Gentiles think, "Jews say the darnedest things."

Without missing a beat, Jesus rolls out the aftershock.

"Woe to you who are rich, successful, happy and well regarded."

Blinking furiously, several in the crowd dig a grubby finger in one ear, convinced that their failure to understand has more to do with the mechanics of the head than the heart. They don't understand that Jesus is talking directly to the apostles (the apparent "haves") and the disciples (the clear "have nots") and giving them a balanced warning that the real issue here isn't titles or promotions, Christmas bonuses or lakeshore timeshares. The real issue here is the condition of their hearts.

Use right judgment, Jesus urges, look deeper and take the longer view -- God's view. If the things you're focused on pursuing will not survive eternity, what exactly is it you are working for? (Twigs and garbage, mutters Simon Peter.)

Over the course of time, Jesus will teach them that, if they empty themselves and seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, it doesn't matter that they're poor because all these things will be added unto them.

If they are hungry and thirsty for righteousness, they will soon be satisfied with true food and true drink, thanks to the sacrifice of His body and His blood (the fulfillment of the Law) at the Cross.

If they love Jesus truly, they will mourn at His death but, like a woman who forgets her labor for the joy of the child upon her breast, they will laugh and rejoice at His resurrection.

And if people malign them, persecute them and slander them just because they choose to be poor, hungry and grieving for Jesus' sake, then they have a reward in heaven and their names will be recounted with the likes of Moses and Elijah.

Some of the disciples tune out here. Not only do they not hear the woes -- the new covenant curses -- they miss the essential "on account of the Son of Man." Years later, some will twist these promises into vows of poverty, fasting and grief in an effort to achieve an aesthetic of constant hunger and perpetual shiva. By failing to focus exclusively on Jesus, they embrace the physical at the expense of the spiritual only to produce an arid, empty faith full of dead works.

The woes are just as revolutionary as the blessings. To be rich, successful, happy and popular was and still is considered a crowning achievement -- the evidence of a life well lived, not a curse. The comforts of success were thought to be not only the gifts of God (as they absolutely are) but also God's certification of the individual as righteous (as they absolutely are not).

Again, Jesus urges us to use right judgment -- clear thinking, "eyes stamped with eternity." Jesus does not say that success and wealth are inherently wrong or evil. He says they're temporary and fickle. He solemnly warns us that none of these things will translate into eternity. But in our arrogance, we are defensive and blind. We insist on flying into the afterlife with carry-on luggage.

"Let me stop you right there," we say. "God loves me -- just look at all I have! I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing. Look at all the shiny silver things I have in my hands -- it's all my heart's desire! Clearly, I delight myself in the Lord! Isn't this proof?"

Jesus, sadly, gently, holds up the true mirror of the Word and says, "No, you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked."

When we come to God as rich, full, successful and happy people, what is there left for Him to do for us? If, in our own eyes, we have no needs, doesn't that mean we have no need of Him? Are we truly aware of what it is we have and what it is we need?

Be careful, says Jesus. All that glitters is not gold. Your handfuls of shiny silver things are really only bits of foil and used chewing gum wrappers. 

(Twigs and garbage, nods Simon Peter.)