Upside Down

Matthew 5:1-12

February 2, 2020

           Trees walking on their branches.

            Houses dancing on their roofs.

            Birds flying down to the sky.

            Raindrops reaching up to the ground.

            That’s what I imagined the world was like when I was upside down.          

One of my favorite things to do as a kid was swing. It still is. I loved seeing how high you could swing. I imagined that if I could get just high enough, I might just reach the trees or convince the birds that I was flying along next to them.

Some of my friends were much braver than I was. They would swing as high as they could, then jump out of the seat and try landing on both feet on the ground. I didn’t want to do that. It wasn’t so much that I was afraid of the jumping as I was of the landing. Besides, I was perfectly content just swinging.

Even though swinging up to the treetops was tempting, my favorite thing to do was to get into a steady rhythm, swinging back and forth, back and forth, and then I would lean way back. I would still hold on tightly to the chains, but I would hang my head toward the ground and straighten my legs, so they were pointing sort of toward the sky. Then with a good swing, you would feel almost as if you were standing on your head. Then I would let the swing slowly drift to a stop, and I would look at the world around me and imagine that the world had turned upside down instead of me.

Trees walking on their branches.

Houses dancing on their roofs.

Birds flying down to the sky.

Raindrops reaching up to the ground.

That’s what I imagined the world was like when I was upside down.

            The world from this upside-down viewpoint looks strange. I never grew tired of looking at it in this upside-down way. I found it strange, yes, but peaceful too.

            I know that upside-down is not the first thing that comes to mind when we hear these familiar opening verses of the Sermon on the Mount from Matthew’s gospel. These are verses that are well known and beloved beyond our church circles. I would say that for most of my life, I have thought of them as pretty straightforward; although I fully admit that I have struggled with understanding what it means to be “poor in spirit,” and I can never seem to accomplish meek.

And what does it really mean to be “blessed?” I used that word all the time. I pray for blessings on this congregation, on our meetings. I say it when my husband or anyone else sneezes. Does it simply equate to “happy?” Happy are the poor in spirit. Happy are the meek. Or is there a deeper meaning? I wondered about this. I wonder about it whenever this passage rolls around in the lectionary cycle. Then the biblical scholars in a podcast that I listen to suggested that a preacher might replace the word blessed with the world enviable. This doesn’t mean that in the Greek, blessed, makario, can necessarily be translated into enviable. But using enviable instead might give a new perspective on these familiar words; much like hanging upside-down on a swing gives a new perspective on the world.

            “Enviable are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

            “Enviable are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

            “Enviable are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”

            “Enviable are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”

            “Enviable are the merciful, for the will receive mercy.”

            “Enviable are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”

            “Enviable are the peacemakers, for they will called children of God.”

            “Enviable are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

            And,

“Enviable are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

            Okay, maybe I can understand envying someone who is pure in heart or merciful or meek. But envying someone who is persecuted? I don’t want to be persecuted. I know that the process of living brings mourning, but that doesn’t mean I look forward to it. I don’t envy those who mourn. Don’t get me started on being reviled. It’s one thing to say that people with these qualities are blessed, but it’s a whole new ball game to say that they are enviable.

            If I think someone is enviable, then I think they are fortunate or lucky in some way. Is someone who is persecuted and reviled for their faith lucky? Are they fortunate? Is someone who is poor in spirit, someone who is so downtrodden by the hardships of life a person to be envied? Wait a minute? This doesn’t make sense. It seems too, too upside down.

            It made me think, who do I envy? Who in the world do I think is enviable? Who do I think is lucky and fortunate? Someone who has enough money and never has to worry about money. Someone who wears clothes well. You know, someone who could put on a rag, and you would think, “Wow! That person knows how to dress.”

            Before I got my first smartphone, I envied people with smartphones. It seemed the whole world had technology, and with that technology access to apps and stuff, that I didn’t possess. I couldn’t wait to buy my first smartphone. Then of course, they’ve got you, because technology advances quickly. And that first smartphone gets replaced with the next greatest smartphone, and then I envy the person who has that.

            But I don’t envy the poor in spirit, and I don’t envy the poor. Poverty is not glamorous. Poverty is grinding. It chews up and spits out generation after generation of people. No, I don’t envy the poor or the poor in spirit.

            But if someone being enviable means that they are considered fortunate, then maybe there is a connection to being blessed after all. It seems to me that that is the connection Jesus was making. And that’s why these words of Jesus seem so upside-down. Why would he say that those who are in the least enviable positions in life are the ones to be envied? Why would he say that those who are the least of these are the ones who are blessed?

            Because in his living, his actions, and his words, Jesus showed that God holds close the least of these. God loves all of us, but the least of these seems to be of special concern. That is what Jesus said over and over again. And that is what he showed to us, over and over again. He came and he ate and associated with and preached to and healed and taught sinners and those who were marginalized and forgotten and lost and reprobate and defenseless and odd and so on. He came to the least of these and told anyone who would listen that God was with them too. He preached about reversal; the last shall be first and the first shall be last. He turned upside-down the expectations of Messiah and what salvation really meant. If the Sermon on the Mount presents us with an upside-down view of the world, then why are we surprised? We shouldn’t be, not if we’ve been paying attention. Jesus said that in his presence, with his coming, the kingdom of Heaven was in their midst. And the Kingdom of Heaven was and is unlike the world as we know it. Thanks be to God.

            Jesus came and turned the world upside-down. And maybe it is not as I imagined it from the seat of a swing when I was a child, with trees walking on their branches and birds flying down to the sky, but it is a world where the poor in spirit and the poor are lifted up and the meek are celebrated and the persecuted are to envied.

            In a few minutes, we are going to do what some might consider the most upside-down thing of all. We are going to gather around this table. We are going to take bread and cup and say ancient words about the body and the blood. We are going to serve one another, and we are going to be called to remember something that none of us can physically remember. And while we are good Presbyterians, and believe that Christ is spiritually present in the bread and the cup, and that the elements are not divinely transformed, we are going to have the opportunity to see one another and to see the world God has given us through this table. And through this table, we are going to have a chance to feel and known and be nourished by Christ’s presence.

            At this table all are invited to partake of spiritual nourishment. At this table all are invited to share in the sacrificial love of God through Christ for us and for the world. At this table all are welcomed to remember their baptisms even if they don’t remember their baptisms. At this table all are called to serve.

And from this table all of us are sent, back into the world, back into the midst of the poor in spirit and the meek and the mournful, and those seeking righteousness, and those who are persecuted. From this table we are sent out to throw our lots in with the least of these, and from this table we are sent to spread the good news of the upside-down world Jesus preached of and died for and rose to save. Jesus turned the world upside-down. Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.” Amen.