Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany: February 11, 2007.

Jeremiah 17:5-10

Psalm 1

1 Corinthians 15:12-20

Luke 6:17-26

First Reading

The passage from Jeremiah strikes a chord that resonates throughout the readings for the day. The first section (vv. 5-8) is reminiscent of the Wisdom literature of the Old Testament. Wisdom and foolishness, curses and blessings are laid side by side that we might learn the difference, even if our "heart is devious" (v. 9) and we remain resistant to the teaching. The question at the root of such a presentation is "In what or whom will you trust?" [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII], which means to "trust" or "have confidence," appears in v. 5 in a condemnation of trust in human strength. It appears again in v. 7 lifting up trust in the Lord. The wise choice is clear. Even though the choice laid before the student of wisdom is said to take place in the heart (vv. 5,9), the Hebrew sense of this word, [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII], alludes to the thinking, inner workings of a person, not the seat of emotions, as we so often think.

The curse that results from turning from the Lord and relying on human strength is borne by images of being dry, barren, and unnourished. A shrub in the desert, parched wilderness, and salt lands evoke a sense of futility. While a sense of punishment cannot be excluded, it seems that the curse is self-inflicted. Planting a shrub in the desert does not lead to lush vegetation. Verse 10 asserts that the Lord "give[s] to all according to their ways." The blessings, in contrast, offer not only images of water, nourishment, and life but the added dimension of resistance and strength in the face of the adversity of drought and heat.

It might be said that Paul is also addressing the polarity of wisdom and foolishness among the Christians at Corinth. Concerns about the disposition of the dead have arisen that have led to doubts about the resurrection. Perhaps it was the prominent Greco-Roman notion of the immortality of the soul. Perhaps it was simply an inability to accept resurrection at all, as in the case of the Sadducees. Whatever the case, Paul presents the wisdom of the resurrection by first positing that it is untrue. If that is the case, the Corinthians and Paul and every other Christian should call it quits. The resurrected Jesus is the cornerstone on which faith stands. The Corinthians want to fit the resurrection into an existing "wisdom" construct, to plant a shrub in the desert. Paul insists that all wisdom flows from this event of new life in Christ. This wisdom provides a real means of addressing their anxieties about the death of those they love.

Luke's abbreviated Beatitudes (compared to Matthew) evoke the pattern of the reading from Jeremiah. Luke also brings some new things to the table. In Luke, Jesus' blessings and curses have an obvious eschatological bent to them. The hungry will be filled, those who weep will laugh. Likewise, the rich will be hungry. These proclamations point to a day to come, a Jubilee. That coming day presents the blessings and curses in a way that advances the pervasive theme of reversal that runs throughout Luke. From Mary's song to the resurrection itself, Luke proclaims that not only are changes on the horizon of history, but the coming day will turn the world upside down. The "real" world is actually inverted and will be righted in the end, by God. Left in the sermonic context of this passage, it is possible to write off this vision as naive or idealistic. Luke however, sets this sermon in the broader context of a whole narrative where eschatology leads to ethics. Mary sings of the day the rich and powerful will fall and the poor be lifted up. Zacchaeus (chapter 19) enacts that vision in anticipation of what is to come.

Pastoral Reflection

The texts from last week were ready-made for the season of Epiphany. Isaiah's grand vision full of light, fire, angels, and the booming voice of God, paired with the miraculous catch of fish in Luke, seem to shout "God is here!" Coming off those powerful images, this week's texts may seem pale, rather unepiphanic. However, just because these texts do not have lots of bells and whistles does not mean God is not revealed. In fact, the more mundane and routine shape of these texts may mean that they have a better chance at connecting with us. After all, how many of us have had an experience like Isaiah's?

God is found in wisdom in all of these texts. God is revealed in the way that leads to life, to blessing, to resurrection. That is fairly obvious. The difference between foolishness and wisdom is presented in rather clear terms--no riddles to figure out, no parables to unravel. Yet, precisely because the way of wisdom is so obvious, and because the language so familiar, we can miss the epiphany because we miss the stumbling block that is at the heart of biblical wisdom.

Jeremiah tells us that foolishness is found in self-reliance. Moving fast, we say, "Check. No self-reliance." But, look at our lives, our culture, our hopes and dreams. Jeremiah, in one verse, condemns most of our lives to wilderness and ash, drought and death. The terrifying prospect of rejecting "conventional wisdom" is the path to life, to encountering and being encountered by God.

The blessings and curses of Jesus are beloved, partly because we don't try to live them. Perhaps Luke's eschatological use of the future tense lets us procrastinate. If we read closely, we are likely, at least in our culture, to have more in common with those who are cursed than blessed. The reversal of the kingdom is coming. The epiphany for today happens when we find ourselves living prematurely upside-down.

The "law" in a sermon on wisdom is not so much about condemning what is obviously foolish. Instead, it is about lifting up how scandalous and "unrealistic" God's wisdom is. It is about showing how we are indeed not the green trees, well watered, but the shrubs, dying in the wilderness.

Hollywood and other cultural arts are wonderful allies in our proclamation of the law. Countless movies offer plots that uncover our bourgeois sensibilities with plots that end up exposing the foolishness of the ways of the world. Wall Street (20th Century Fox, 1987) presents the story of a wealthy financier who takes on a "student" to learn the wisdom of the world. In the end, both end up consumed by the house of cards they have built, on their way to jail. "Woe to you who are rich." Dozens of other examples help us lift up the "law" found in these texts.

Preaching however, cannot simply moralize. Law must be followed by gospel, death by resurrection. In the movie, the student turns state's evidence on his boss because he finally figures out that the foolishness of his blue-collar father and life in humble New Jersey aren't foolish at all. He has an epiphany, if you will, and finds wisdom where he never looked. He might be able to even say "Blessed are the poor."

As we think of the images of those who marched in the face of the wisdom of apartheid and died, can we say "Blessed are those who suffer"? As we stand at the bedside of a saint slipping into death, knowing how dearly she held to the promise of the resurrection, can we say "Blessed are those who mourn"? If we can, the gospel comes alive today, and epiphany happens. TVO