“The Sermon on the Plain? What? Don’t you mean the Sermon on the Mount?” I remember a parishioner asking me this question after hearing me preach at mass one Sunday. In fact, I was indeed referring to the Sermon on the Plain, the stretch of level ground where Jesus instructs the crowd in this paradoxical wisdom of the Kingdom of God. The Gospel of Luke, chapter 6, emphasizes this low, level place that Jesus chooses as the setting of his teaching, in contrast to the high, mountain post pictured in Matthew’s Gospel. Why?
Karoly Ferenczy, 1897
The author of Luke’s Gospel, with his preferential option for the poor, emphasizes Jesus’ relationship with the marginalized of his time, especially women. In fact, it is a woman who initiates the proclamation of the Good News, even before John the Baptism begins his ministry preparing the way for Jesus. In the first chapter of Luke, Mary exclaims in a prophetic voice what so many of her ancestors in faith have themselves expressed: “His mercy is from age to age to those who fear him. He has shown might with his arm, dispersed the arrogant of mind and heart. He has thrown down the rulers from their thrones but lifted up the lowly. The hungry he has filled with good things; the rich he has sent away empty.” Mary’s Magnificat serves as a key for interpreting Jesus’ paradoxical teaching on the plain.
Jesus chooses a humble, low place that does not set him above or at a distance from others, because what he desires most is to come close to people, especially to those rejected, hidden, and voiceless. It is to these people in particular that he wants to convey the infinite, unconditioned love of his Father, lifting them up and pointing out their blessedness in the present, not only the future. This is audacious, stunning, and mysterious, isn’t it? How could Jesus tell the poor, the hungry, the grieving, the hated and persecuted, that they already are blessed? How would we respond if we were in their place?
If I am not mistaken, Jesus is pointing out how there is already a blessing and a grace in their current situation, AND that they will receive a recompense in the eschatological future. That blessing is the already granted and given love of the Father, a love that is unmerited, and always a gift. Yes, there is suffering in life. Yes, no one is exempt, and no one will escape sickness, loss, failure, and finally death. But in all of that, God is as close as can be, accompanying us especially when we are vulnerable, especially when we feel lost, empty, lonely, or without purpose or value.
At these moments of extremity, when things feel most precarious, pathways can open to deeper levels of self-understanding, self-acceptance, and self-transcendence. At these moments, we can come to experience a greater, more inclusive compassion for others, and indeed, a sense of interdependent solidarity with all living beings. In these moments when our egos are dislocated and we are far from our comfort zones, lie the conditions for our deepest learning, growth, and transformation in the direction of Christ’s example of life and love.
To discover in poverty, hunger, grief, or rejection a blessing, this is a grace that we cannot make happen for ourselves. But we can open ourselves to such grace. Instead of resistinging suffering and trying to escape what is hard, we might pray for the grace to embrace our reality with courage, inner freedom, and openness to growth. Therein we can discover gifts we could never have imagined or expected.
By contrast, Jesus warns the rich, the fully fed and self-satisfied, those who laugh at the expense of others, and the celebrities in the eyes of the world; a reckoning will come. Is Jesus being unfair, let alone mean or cruel? I don’t think so. Certainly one thing he is acknowledging is that the wheel turns for everyone, and no one begins and ends on the top without also some share in the inescapable sufferings of human existence. But further, I believe that he is also making a moral comment.
The riches of the wealthy are rarely the product of good fortune alone; rather, material wealth is often the result of unmerited privilege. Sometimes, it is based on unjust social and economic systems, inequalities of access, resources, opportunity. Yes, there are good people who happen to be wealthy, and it is legitimate for them to enjoy the fruits of hard work. But from Jesus’ time to now, we see how wealth tends to be concentrated in the hands of the few, and that despite their discretion to use their wealth for the common good, the temptation of the wealthy to self-indulge to luxurious excess is unmistakable. There is so much evidence of this today as we see the rise of an oligarchy of unprecedented wealth and power and the crushing impact this has on those without agency, voice, or representation. Clearly this social inequality is not consistent with God’s intention for the ways in which we relate to and use the resources that have been given to us, let alone the way we care for those who are poor, hungry, or exploited.
Beyond this, Jesus teaches here and elsewhere that pursuing conditions such as wealth, privilege, popularity as if these are absolute or ultimate values is neither wise nor morally neutral. Each of these goals is contingent on conditional factors; we know that life happens and there are no guarantees for what tomorrow will bring. As Mary exclaimed in the Magnificat, the mighty rise and the mighty fall. And seeking these worldly values at the expense of others risks that which is more important, valuable, and ultimate. If any of these worldly values become our priority and driving motivation, it is almost impossible not to compromise relationships, charity, compassion, mercy, and care for those whom Jesus called the “little ones.” We see evidence of this right now in the actions of so many of those currently in positions of power: the sacrifice of love. While the masses of vulnerable people suffer most acutely the expense of this selfish misuse of resources, at a moral level, Jesus suggests that so too do the rich and powerful suffer, often in ways hidden from the public.
As leaders seeking to be faithful stewards of what God has placed in our hands, what meaning do we make for ourselves of this paradoxical instruction that Jesus gives us from that humble spot on the plains? Among the sufferings we experience, do we make space for God to come to us in our vulnerability, to be transformed by God’s grace? If we are in possession of great wealth or considerable power or influence, do we have the courage to constantly check our values and priorities, keeping front and center what is truly important, let alone ultimate?
In all this, may we find God accompanying us and guiding us on the way…
With you on the road,
