Homily for the 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time
In this cultural context, the labels "rich" and "poor" take on a meaning quite different than in our culture. In antiquity a person became rich because that individual had power to take wealth from those who were weaker and unable to defend themselves. While in the modern Western world wealth itself bestows power, in the ancient Mediterranean world power was the means for acquiring wealth.
By the same token, a poor person in the ancient world was powerless, that is, unable to defend inherited status and wealth. Notice the kinds of people with which the word "poor" is most often associated. As a rule, we read in the Bible about "the poor, the orphans, and the widows." What these categories share in common is a lack of social status and consequent powerlessness. The orphan has no adults to protect its interests. The widow, even if she inherits millions, but has no son, is always described as "a poor widow." Economic considerations enter the picture only incidentally.
After the resurrection, the scriptures tell us, the followers of Jesus continued to attend Jewish prayers and services at their local synagogues. They met privately in their homes for the breaking of the bread, or the Eucharist. And it was around this ritual that the new communities formed. But, as yet, they had no idea that the road they were taking would diverge from Orthodox Judaism. But as time went on, the synagogue authorities were concluding that such devotion to Jesus and Judaism were just not compatible. So the followers of Jesus are expelled from the synagogue. For a Jew to be barred from his synagogue was a traumatic experience. The synagogue and the Temple were at the centre of their lives. It had nourished their ancestors. It had kept their nation and their identity alive during long and bitter exiles. So expulsion from the synagogue meant that their roots were being amputated. They were treated as pariahs by the wider Jewish community. They are deprived of all social status in their own culture. And, in an early Mediterranean community, this is the ultimate in poverty. Luke's Beatitudes has that scenario in mind. It sets out to put new heart into his devastated, ostracised community, to instil in them pride in their newfound identity. Some sections of this extract will only make sense in this context. It is a rallying-cry to the new community, and an invitation to them to view their immediate circumstances from a broader perspective:
"Happy you who are poor; yours is the kingdom of heaven.
Happy you who are hungry now;
You shall be satisfied.
Happy you who weep now, you shall laugh;
Happy are you when people hate you, drive you out (out of the synagogue and the community), abuse you,
denounce your name as criminal, on account of the Son of Man.
Rejoice when that day comes and dance for joy,
for then your reward will be great in heaven.
This was the way their ancestors treated the prophets."
The second part of the sermon is condemnatory in tone, castigating those complacent Jews who had expelled the Christians.
"But, alas for you who are rich; you are having your consolation now;
Alas for you who have your fill now; you shall go hungry.
Alas for you who laugh now; you shall mourn and weep.
Alas for you when the world speaks well of you!
This was the way their ancestors treated the false prophets."
Luke is telling his community that, despite the persecutions and sufferings of the moment, the future will be theirs. He points to their history, finding parallels with the true prophets. This is a rallying cry, telling them to hang in there, to continue celebrating the Eucharist in their homes, and to carve out a new identity for themselves based based upon that ritual.
So these are the particular circumstances behind Luke's version of the sermon of the mountain. We must extract their meaning for ourselves and for our circumstances today. The most obvious application is the challenge of the prophetic role. Those who follow Jesus will always find themselves swimming against the tide. The authentic follower will always find it necessary to question received ideas, to challenge current practice, to expose current orthodoxy as mere fashion. Just like the fish, the prophetic Christian will die if he swims with the stream. The Christian is expected to measure all things under the searching light of the unchanging gospel. And, as St. Paul writes to the Corinthians in today's epistle extract: "If our hope in Christ is for this life only, we are the most miserable of all peoples." Because of the resurrection, there is more to this life than meets the eye.