Looking at his disciples, he said:
“Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.
Blessed are you when people hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their ancestors treated the prophets.
But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort.
Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep.
Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets. (Luke 6:20-26)

This is Luke’s version of the Sermon on the Mount, usually referred to as the Sermon on the Plain because Luke sets the scene with Jesus standing on a level place. After withdrawing for prayer, Jesus has just named and called his twelve disciples and now he teaches them, along with a whole crowd of others from around the land.

In Matthew’s version of the beatitudes: that’s all they are, beatitudes. Blessings. But here in Luke we get both sides of the coin. Blessings and woes. And the woes get a little close to home.

This is an unavoidable theme in the gospel of Luke. “He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty” says Mary in her song, the Magnificat, at the beginning of the gospel (Luke 1:53). Jesus similarly declares in Luke 4 that his mission is to “proclaim good news to the poor” (Luke 4:18). And unlike Matthew’s beatitudes where it is the “poor in spirit” who are blessed: Luke unavoidably refers to the materially, economically poor. The people who are physically hungry from malnutrition. There is no spiritualizing Jesus’ words. Which means that we can’t wriggle ourselves out of the woes on the rich either.

Who can deny that the majority of us have received our good material comforts from a disposable income most of the rest of the world would call wealth? Who can deny that three square meals a day equates to being well fed? Who can avoid the fact that having the disposable time to binge watch the Olympics or participate in whatever other entertainment or gatherings with friends and family has led to a relatively easy life of laughter and joy?

Do we also have our sorrows and hardships? Of course we do, but nothing more than is common to the rest of humanity. What we have that is not common to the rest of humanity however, is peace, security, health care, opportunity, and financial stability, even wealth.

So what are we to do with this teaching of Jesus that seems to single us out for woes and future disaster? Are we left to just feel guilty for living where we do and having what we have?

No, I don’t think so. Jesus’ mission statement from chapter 4 draws on Isaiah 58. It seems to me that Luke has Isaiah 58 in mind in chapter 5 and 6 of his gospel as well. In what precedes this text Jesus talks about fasting, Sabbath, poverty and wealth. What comes after is commentary on a generous life. That’s Isaiah 58 in a nutshell, where one of the central invitations is to “spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed.”

It’s not wrong to have wealth. But Jesus always invites us to remember that we who have it are only trustees of something that does not actually belong to us. Like Joseph overseeing the grain distribution in Egypt—wealth is entrusted to us by God so that we might distribute it to its intended recipients according to his direction. This, I think is Jesus’ kingdom intent: that we spend ourselves and all that has been entrusted to us on behalf of those who are poor, hungry, and weeping from oppression.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you.
May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm.
May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you.
May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.