MOST RECENT SERMON
"Feeling Lucky?"
All Saints Sunday; based on Luke 6:20-26 (text at end of post)
November 6, 2022
Back in 2008, I was working as executive director of The Aliveness Project, a Minneapolis community center for people living with HIV/AIDS. That July I decided to attend the International AIDS Conference in Mexico City. My husband Charlie came with me. And even though he wasn’t registered, we hoped he could attend some of the events.
The first night, there was an opening ceremony at a soccer stadium. Former US President Bill Clinton and South African President Nelson Mandela were the keynote speakers. We took a taxi to the stadium. Just as we got out of the car, Charlie realized he didn’t have his wallet. So he ran after the taxi. And lucky for him, it stopped, and he found it.
But that wasn’t the only lucky thing that happened. When we got in line and finally reached the gate, I asked the guard if my friend could come in with me. He frowned and said that he doubted it because of the high security related to the special guests. But he said he would check. And asked us to wait.
And that’s when we got lucky again. Because suddenly it started not just raining, but pouring—with hundreds of people getting soaked. And no one was prepared. Or knew what to do.
Suddenly the guard shrugged and waved us on—shouting for us to run up the steps to the stadium entrance.
Probably not something that would happen today.
And that’s how Charlie got in with me. Where we saw an amazing and inspiring program. One that we will never forget.
You could say we were very lucky that it all turned out so well. With a double blessing.
When was the last time something lucky like that happened to you?
It’s funny how when things like that happen in life, we humans often want to ascribe meaning to it. If something doesn’t go as planned, you feel unlucky, maybe even cursed. If something then turns out better than expected, we say, “my prayers have been answered!” You feel lucky—even blessed by God.
Our Gospel lesson talks about that. This passage is Luke’s version of the Beatitudes. The word “beatitude” comes from a word in the Latin version of this text, which could be translated as “blessed” or “happy” or “lucky.”
Traditionally, the Church has taught us—especially the poor and oppressed—that if you just endure your current unfortunate situation or unlucky fate, then someday you will go to heaven. And God will bless you and make up for every bad thing that happened to you in this life.
But that’s not the promise Jesus makes here. Instead, Jesus promises to bless the unlucky people of our world now. The unlucky people who are completely destitute. The unlucky people with no food for their children. The unlucky people who aren’t just trying to get into a stadium out of the rain, but looking for shelter from all sorts of weather.
The unlucky people who, instead of listening to impressive speeches by celebrities, have to hear hate speech or see their cemetery vandalized because of their faith or the country they come from.
For all those unlucky people, Jesus offers a new and radical vision. A vision that opens our eyes to how God sees them. A vision where the beatitudes aren’t just nice words that tell us how we ought to pity poor people. But a prophetic vision that is “performative”—a fancy theological word for when the speaking of a blessing makes it real. Not merely promising something. But making the promise happen.
That’s the kind of radical blessing Jesus gives. Which is also radical because of who is blessed.
For Jesus blesses the very people the world sees as unlucky losers. People in pain. People in desperate situations. People overcome with grief or depression. People crossing borders seeking a safe home, who get put on buses to unknown destinations.
These are the people Jesus calls blessed. And Jesus doesn’t just give them a simple benediction like the one I say at the end of each worship service.
Instead, Jesus lavishes on them unbelievable blessings. Blessings that have nothing to do with luck. And everything to do with God’s grace. And the Kingdom of God, here and now.
In story after story in the Bible, there is a theology of divine providence that flies in the face of our human tendency to describe our lives in terms of good and bad luck. We Lutherans believe that we are born, live and die because of God’s abiding love for us. That our entire being is linked to God’s desire and intention that we live grace-filled lives.
Some Christians think of providence in terms of a type of predestination. That God pre-ordains who will have a happy, successful life and who will face the trials of Job. But I believe providence can only really be seen in the rearview mirror, never through the windshield of your life.
In other words, it can be very difficult to see God’s hand working in my present reality, and especially what lies in the road ahead. But when I look behind me, I see how God’s love has been with me even during the most difficult days of pain and loss.
As Christians, we believe there is a reason for living. That God is (in Paul Tillich’s words) the “ground of being”—the creator of who we have been, of who we are, and who we will be. The source of all that is good and loving.
We also believe that life is more than a crap shoot. More than a coin toss. More than a billion-dollar lottery.
We believe that our world and lives are meant to mean something. Even in the days before another divisive election, whose results are unpredictable. Even during dark times when we may find ourselves doubting that the arc of the universe is really bending towards justice.
Perhaps that’s what the beatitudes are all about. Maybe they are meant to help us see the world the way God sees it. It makes me wonder, if you and I rewrote the beatitudes today, what might they sound like? Maybe something like this:
Blessed are you immigrants, for you will be granted safe sanctuary. Blessed are you homeless, for you will find shelter and plenty of food. Blessed are you who live with anxiety, for you shall receive peace of mind.
Blessed are you who relapse into drinking or drug use, for you will rediscover sobriety. Blessed are you sex workers, for you shall be surprised by love.
Blessed are you elderly who live with loneliness and pain, for you will experience community. Blessed are you Jewish people who face antisemitism and threats in our country today, for you shall be called God’s chosen people.
Blessed are you who grieve the loss of a loved one, for you will find comfort. Blessed are you queer folk when Christian politicians condemn you and pass all sorts of laws against you. Rejoice in that day and dance gaily, for you are truly welcome here.
I could go on. Together, we could write many more beatitudes for our modern lives. With that uncomfortable tension between what once was, what is today, and what could and should be tomorrow.
Where believers like you and me are called to make the Kingdom of God happen in our sometimes-unlucky lives and in this oftentimes cruel world.
Where God gathers all of us together around this table as blessed saints, whether we feel lucky or not.
And where Jesus also calls you to be a blessing to those who so desperately need exactly that. Amen.
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
GOSPEL READING: Luke 6:20-26
Then Jesus looked up at his disciples and said: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets. "But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.”
The first night, there was an opening ceremony at a soccer stadium. Former US President Bill Clinton and South African President Nelson Mandela were the keynote speakers. We took a taxi to the stadium. Just as we got out of the car, Charlie realized he didn’t have his wallet. So he ran after the taxi. And lucky for him, it stopped, and he found it.
But that wasn’t the only lucky thing that happened. When we got in line and finally reached the gate, I asked the guard if my friend could come in with me. He frowned and said that he doubted it because of the high security related to the special guests. But he said he would check. And asked us to wait.
And that’s when we got lucky again. Because suddenly it started not just raining, but pouring—with hundreds of people getting soaked. And no one was prepared. Or knew what to do.
Suddenly the guard shrugged and waved us on—shouting for us to run up the steps to the stadium entrance.
Probably not something that would happen today.
And that’s how Charlie got in with me. Where we saw an amazing and inspiring program. One that we will never forget.
You could say we were very lucky that it all turned out so well. With a double blessing.
When was the last time something lucky like that happened to you?
It’s funny how when things like that happen in life, we humans often want to ascribe meaning to it. If something doesn’t go as planned, you feel unlucky, maybe even cursed. If something then turns out better than expected, we say, “my prayers have been answered!” You feel lucky—even blessed by God.
Our Gospel lesson talks about that. This passage is Luke’s version of the Beatitudes. The word “beatitude” comes from a word in the Latin version of this text, which could be translated as “blessed” or “happy” or “lucky.”
Traditionally, the Church has taught us—especially the poor and oppressed—that if you just endure your current unfortunate situation or unlucky fate, then someday you will go to heaven. And God will bless you and make up for every bad thing that happened to you in this life.
But that’s not the promise Jesus makes here. Instead, Jesus promises to bless the unlucky people of our world now. The unlucky people who are completely destitute. The unlucky people with no food for their children. The unlucky people who aren’t just trying to get into a stadium out of the rain, but looking for shelter from all sorts of weather.
The unlucky people who, instead of listening to impressive speeches by celebrities, have to hear hate speech or see their cemetery vandalized because of their faith or the country they come from.
For all those unlucky people, Jesus offers a new and radical vision. A vision that opens our eyes to how God sees them. A vision where the beatitudes aren’t just nice words that tell us how we ought to pity poor people. But a prophetic vision that is “performative”—a fancy theological word for when the speaking of a blessing makes it real. Not merely promising something. But making the promise happen.
That’s the kind of radical blessing Jesus gives. Which is also radical because of who is blessed.
For Jesus blesses the very people the world sees as unlucky losers. People in pain. People in desperate situations. People overcome with grief or depression. People crossing borders seeking a safe home, who get put on buses to unknown destinations.
These are the people Jesus calls blessed. And Jesus doesn’t just give them a simple benediction like the one I say at the end of each worship service.
Instead, Jesus lavishes on them unbelievable blessings. Blessings that have nothing to do with luck. And everything to do with God’s grace. And the Kingdom of God, here and now.
In story after story in the Bible, there is a theology of divine providence that flies in the face of our human tendency to describe our lives in terms of good and bad luck. We Lutherans believe that we are born, live and die because of God’s abiding love for us. That our entire being is linked to God’s desire and intention that we live grace-filled lives.
Some Christians think of providence in terms of a type of predestination. That God pre-ordains who will have a happy, successful life and who will face the trials of Job. But I believe providence can only really be seen in the rearview mirror, never through the windshield of your life.
In other words, it can be very difficult to see God’s hand working in my present reality, and especially what lies in the road ahead. But when I look behind me, I see how God’s love has been with me even during the most difficult days of pain and loss.
As Christians, we believe there is a reason for living. That God is (in Paul Tillich’s words) the “ground of being”—the creator of who we have been, of who we are, and who we will be. The source of all that is good and loving.
We also believe that life is more than a crap shoot. More than a coin toss. More than a billion-dollar lottery.
We believe that our world and lives are meant to mean something. Even in the days before another divisive election, whose results are unpredictable. Even during dark times when we may find ourselves doubting that the arc of the universe is really bending towards justice.
Perhaps that’s what the beatitudes are all about. Maybe they are meant to help us see the world the way God sees it. It makes me wonder, if you and I rewrote the beatitudes today, what might they sound like? Maybe something like this:
Blessed are you immigrants, for you will be granted safe sanctuary. Blessed are you homeless, for you will find shelter and plenty of food. Blessed are you who live with anxiety, for you shall receive peace of mind.
Blessed are you who relapse into drinking or drug use, for you will rediscover sobriety. Blessed are you sex workers, for you shall be surprised by love.
Blessed are you elderly who live with loneliness and pain, for you will experience community. Blessed are you Jewish people who face antisemitism and threats in our country today, for you shall be called God’s chosen people.
Blessed are you who grieve the loss of a loved one, for you will find comfort. Blessed are you queer folk when Christian politicians condemn you and pass all sorts of laws against you. Rejoice in that day and dance gaily, for you are truly welcome here.
I could go on. Together, we could write many more beatitudes for our modern lives. With that uncomfortable tension between what once was, what is today, and what could and should be tomorrow.
Where believers like you and me are called to make the Kingdom of God happen in our sometimes-unlucky lives and in this oftentimes cruel world.
Where God gathers all of us together around this table as blessed saints, whether we feel lucky or not.
And where Jesus also calls you to be a blessing to those who so desperately need exactly that. Amen.
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
GOSPEL READING: Luke 6:20-26
Then Jesus looked up at his disciples and said: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets. "But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.”
