Abstract
I was once told in jest by a priest that he moved parishes whenever his stock of sermons ran out. He was being playful but of course the truth is that most of us from time to time re-use tried and tested material when a week has been particularly pressured or ideas are running dry.
Sometimes, however, a change of context or of personal circumstances can lead us to encounter a biblical text in such a fresh and unexpected way that it requires deep engagement, and this, for me, is one of those weeks. I was stopped in my tracks afresh by today’s gospel reading, the famous Sermon on the Mount.
‘Blessed are you. . .’, announces Jesus, offering hope and new life to people living in situations of pain, challenge and injustice. ‘Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.’ Years ago, as a lay worker in deprived areas of London this was a text that made my heart sing. There I was, with people who were presently in such extreme difficulty, affirmed in my deep and joyful conviction that life, hope and justice were imminent. The words point to the deep potential in people and places that society has written off, and witness to the transience and vulnerability of the political and economic systems that holds so many in poverty. Jesus’ sermon restores agency, love and creativity to those who seek to do all that is possible to help release that potential. Back in London, the reading spoke to me also, on a low income, in temporary and basic living conditions, unsure of my place in the world. This was a text that I felt poured blessings into my heart and continues to pour blessings into the hearts of those in need. It is a wonderful, joyful text that promises that the world will be turned upside down for the good of all.
Roll on a decade, living in a large vicarage, driving a car, with a stable income, serving a relatively affluent community, my personal experience of today’s gospel is altogether different. All of a sudden, I find my eye drawn further down the text, into an altogether less comfortable set of words. ‘Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation’, announces Jesus. ‘Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry.’ Well, that, I’m afraid, is me and those I love! There is no escaping it—those words need to be addressed in honesty and dare I say it, in penitence, by those of us who enjoy any degree of wealth.
So here, in the spirit of self-examination demanded by Jesus’ words, is my confession. I acknowledge that by living in and heating a big house, driving a car, barely if ever using public transport, owning a household of disposable goods, I and those around and me contribute massively to the environmental concerns that are so properly now given prominence. I and we consume more fossil fuels, we add so much more to the plastic waste and other forms of pollution, all of which directly has its most direct impact upon the poorest in our world. The greater our wealth, the more complicit we so quickly become in unjust global economic systems. The paradox of today’s gospel is entirely correct: the rich really do, through our wealth, become poor. Those of us who enjoy wealth directly sow the seeds of harm to our planet, injustice for those who are poor and the proper anger that results, and ultimately, ironically, the undermining of the very conditions of our own wealth.
Yet, profoundly Jesus is offering good news even to those of us who feel directly addressed by the second part of this reading.
Just as the early part of the reading anticipates a transformation for those who are living in poverty, so it calls those of us who live with wealth to change. There are choices that we can make that draw us back towards the comfort and hope of today’s gospel. Thanks to a growing number of ethically minded businesses you can buy everything from plastic-free recycled loo rolls where money is redistributed to those living in poverty, to shampoo and even face cream bars and toothpaste that do away with plastic packaging, to fairly traded consumables and clothes. There are green energy companies that foster the move away from fossil fuels. There’s an increasing range of clothing companies promising environmentally sustainable fabrics.
Today’s gospel reading, with its threat and its promise, recalls us all to purpose. It offers hope and the promise of transformation to those who are living in challenging circumstances. But it also offers that hope and transformation to those of us who are living in a context of wealth and relative ease, if we are prepared to hear the call to repentance and engage with our responsibility to the planet and to our global community. Whether we find ourselves in a place of poverty or a place of wealth, I pray that we may all hear Jesus’ words afresh, and be inspired to change our hearts, minds and actions for the good of all.