In 1992, I stood on the Birchenough Bridge over the Save River in Manicaland in Zimbabwe. Usually when you look down from the bridge you will see a broad expanse of water in one of the large rivers that flows from the interior of the African continent toward the Indian Ocean. But in 1992, Zimbabwe and most of southern Africa had been suffering a sustained drought that had lasted many years. When you looked down from the bridge what you mostly saw was sand with a few trickles of water here and there. And there were people there with shovels and buckets digging down into the sand to try to reach whatever might still be there below the surface as a last chance to find water for their families. All along the road we had seen dead cattle and other livestock that had not survived the lack of water and vegetation. There was lots of brown and not much green as you looked at the fields and the bush. Zimbabwe was considered to be the breadbasket of southern Africa but in the midst of this sustained period of dryness it had become almost completely dependent on imported food and food aid that came through a variety of international organizations. For many people it was a matter of survival from day to day in a place that had once had plenty.
But along what had been the banks of the river there were still trees and there was still some green. Their roots had gone down into the soil where the river had been and even in the years of drought had found water and sustenance to survive.
It was exactly as Jeremiah wrote, “They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit.” Jeremiah and the people of Israel knew something about drought. People had to learn how to survive in the dry spells and they had to know where those places of green persisted even when the rain did not come. These were places of blessing – places of life even in the midst of hardship and death. And it was an apt metaphor for the life God desired for those who were in covenant. The trials and tribulations of life would not disappear. Life was still lived in the real world. But those who were in covenant with God knew that the source of their life was much greater than they were and much greater than any of the difficulties of life that came their way. They had been liberated from slavery in Egypt by a force that was stronger than the most powerful empire of the day. They had nothing of the goods of this world but they walked out of captivity toward freedom and a new life in a new land by the power of God. They were never a powerful nation. When they tried to emulate their powerful neighbours and build on their own strength, they always ended up in trouble. They forgot about God. They forgot about the covenant. They forgot about their dependence on God’s grace. They looked to kings and armies and wealth. And they failed. Like all the other nations of the world. The prophets, like Jeremiah, called them back to remember the covenant, to remember their dependence on God and on a different way of being in the world. Often in the midst of tragedy or impending tragedy, they were reminded that they were like trees planted by a river that remained green even in the worst drought. They were blessed. Not like other nations, but blessed in their dependence on the love and mercy of God that would always sustain them. In their worship, in the Psalms they sang, they remembered this God who was the source of their life, and the life of the world, and they gave thanks.
So now we can talk about those blessings and woes. They surprise us a bit. Many of us know the beatitudes, the Matthew version. We are used to, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” But what we heard today was, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” Not the poor in spirit, but “blessed are you who are poor.” It is a bit odd, don’t you think. How often do we think of the poor as blessed? The poor, whoever we consider them to be, are usually the objects of our charity precisely because they are not blessed. We talk about sharing our blessings with the poor because they don’t seem to have many. It gets even more odd, a little bit more difficult a few verses on when we hear, “But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.” Surely the rich are those who are blessed. Ask any poor person and they will probably tell you that. They have been blessed with enough to live on and more. Blessings overflowing. So why is this woe coming to them? “Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. 22 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.”
Once again, Luke turns things upside down. Remember the Magnificat, Mary’s song when she heard from the angel that she was going to have a baby? She rejoiced! Not what you usually do when you get that news as a single Mom. Remember Jesus’ sermon in Nazareth proclaiming that the year of the Lord had come that we read about a few weeks ago? The hometown folks really liked it at first but then they realized that it all wasn’t good news for them and they were ready to throw Jesus off a cliff. Now Jesus is calling the poor blessed and telling the rich to take heed. Things were going to be different in this reign of God that he said was at hand. It probably made a few people in the crowd, all those folks who had come to hear him and to receive healing from him, a little bit uneasy. It just wasn’t making sense.
Jesus was taking them back to those trees planted by the water. Reminding them that in God’s reign, our hope, is found in God’s love and mercy, not in anything we do for ourselves. The poor, those at the margins, those who have had to go to the river bed and dig in the sand to find enough water to drink, know that their life depends on something much greater than themselves. They see with different eyes where hope is to be found and they can perhaps catch a glimpse of what the reign of God might be. But a warning to those who have forgotten about the trees planted by the water. Drought comes. Our own strength and wealth and power is not sufficient. We need to remember where the source of our life is found. If we want to be part of the reign of God. But that is not always easy when you are rich.
I talk with a lot of poor people, people who are on the margins, who are hungry, who weep, who are excluded. Join us any Monday afternoon here in this sanctuary as people wait for our Out of the Cold supper to be served. I will be the first to admit that the first thing I think of when I walk in here on Mondays is not that I am coming into a group of people who are richly blessed. There is a lot of pain. A lot of confusion. A lot of scheming. Some people are very angry and express it. And I and other volunteers are often on the front line of receiving that anger. For most, life has not been very fair and it is not easy to understand why. Every person has a story to tell about why they are sitting here waiting for a meal.
So I will not try to paint a romanticized, rosy picture of the blessed poor. However, I am surprised at how often our conversations Mondays turn to God and God’s presence in our lives. I suppose part of this is because I am the religious guy – pastor, reverend, father, padre – I’ve learned to answer to them all. But another part of it is that God is never too far away when you are poor. There isn’t so much to distract. There are a lot of big questions that are never far from you. The conversations are often framed in ways that I would not choose. But there it is. A conversation about what God’s reign is all about. About why things are the way they are. About what seem to be simple ways to make a more just and caring world. About the ways Christianity is twisted and misused rather than following in the way of Jesus. They are not easy conversations. But I can say that often I do feel blessed by having had them. And I am called to remember the source of life and love that embraces and nurtures us all. It’s like standing on that bridge over the dry river and looking at the trees growing on the bank and those who know that there is water below the surface.
Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Thanks be to God.
