A Leveled Place

Luke 6:17-26

February 13, 2022

 

Greeks spit.

            Now that I have your attention, let me explain that statement before I completely offend my dear sister, my brother-in-law, nephews, and all my other loved ones in Greece. Greeks spit ritualistically as a way to ward off evil, the evil eye or evil spirits, etc. If you’ve ever seen the movie, My Big Fat Greek Wedding – and if you haven’t you really should – there are at least two occasions in that movie when the ritual of spitting occurs to keep evil at bay. One of them is at the actual wedding. As Tulla, the bride, walks down the aisle, the guests spit at her dress. If the evil eye is going to strike, its likely to come for the bride. Better spit on her dress just in case.

            Greeks aren’t the only people who spit in this way. Think of the movie Fiddler on the Roof, again another movie that if you have not seen, you really should. Golda, Tevya’s wife, does the ritualistic spitting three times to ward off evil or prevent more disaster.           

I know that these are examples from movies, from fiction, but they are based on reality. I’ve been greatly influenced by the Greek side of my family, so much so that I occasionally think about doing that ritualistic spitting; especially at happier moments cause that’s when it seems the evil eye is most likely to strike.  Everyone in the family is healthy, happy, things are okay; quick start spitting – you know just in case. 

But I have another image that comes to mind when it comes to spitting. I think about some of the boys I went to high school with who chewed tobacco. We weren’t allowed to have soda cans in class, so they would make spittoons out of paper and sit at the back of the class, hopefully outside of the teacher’s notice, and periodically spit. I didn’t understand geometry to begin with, I didn’t need the distraction of the disgusting sound of tobacco spitting behind me. Not the most pleasant of images, I know. 

            There’s a reason why I’m talking about this subject, and it is based on a word used in our passage from Luke’s gospel. The word is ptochoi; in English it is spelled P T O C H O I.  Richard Swanson, professor of Religion, Philosophy, and Classics at Augustana College in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, did a profound word study on ptochoi in his commentary on this passage, and all the credit for what I learned about this word goes to him. 

            Jesus uses this word in the first of his blessings.

“Blessed are the poor.”

Ptochoi means “poor people.” 

Unlike Matthew’s version, in Luke’s gospel Jesus wasn’t referring to the “poor in spirit.”  Jesus said, “Blessed are the poor people.” “Blessed are the ptochoi.” 

But as Swanson pointed out, every word comes with connotations. So, it’s helpful to think about other words that begin with that pt sound. Swanson offered analogies to birds, such as ptarmigan and pterodactyl. As odd as it may seem to compare the poor to birds, ancient or otherwise, think about what it’s like to be swarmed by pigeons looking for crumbs. How often have I been walking along in a city, big or small, and been swarmed, not just by hungry pigeons, but by homeless people asking for change. Blessed are the poor who must swarm the well-off looking for food, whether it’s on a city street or outside of RFD or God’s Storehouse. Blessed are the ptochoi. 

            While Swanson offered other interesting analogies between ptochoi to similar words that begin with the pt sound, the one that struck me was this – ptochoi is related to the Greek word ptuo. In Greek it literally means “I am spitting.” In fact, our word ptooey comes directly from it.   Blessed are the poor people. Blessed are the spat upon. 

            Blessed are the spat upon. Think about the different examples of spitting that I started off with.  I would gladly accept the ritualistic spitting because, superstitious as it may be, it is a way of showing love and concern and asking for protection. But there’s nothing in this world that would make me want chewing tobacco spat on me. Nope. No way. No how. But Jesus says that those who are spat upon are blessed. Blessed are the ptochoi, the poor people, the spat upon. And he does not stop there.

“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.”

Still, Jesus does not stop. Because if there are blessings there must also be woes.

“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.”

Luke’s version of this sermon is very different than Matthew’s as I have already pointed out. Matthew has Jesus standing on a mountain, above the rest, sharing somewhat lofty beatitudes. But in Luke’s gospel, Jesus comes down from the mountain. He comes down from naming all twelve of the disciples, he comes down to a level place, and stands eye-to-eye and toe-to-toe with everyone and tells them that the poor, the spat upon are the blessed. And the hungry are the blessed, and those who cry now are blessed, and those who are hated and reviled now on account of the Son of Man are blessed. And then in equal measure, he speaks the woes. The woes of those who have everything now, who have riches, and more than enough food, and those who are laughing now, because their time to mourn is coming as well.

Jesus stands on this level place and tells all who will hear that in God’s kingdom the playing field is leveled, what’s more, in God’s kingdom the great reversal happens. Our expectations, our assumptions, will be turned upside down. Jesus stands on a level place and pronounces that God’s kingdom is a leveled place. Blessed are those who are spat upon now. Their suffering is not God’s wish or desire. Their suffering does not go unnoticed. But woe to those who do not see it.

Are you uncomfortable yet? I am. (imitate spitting)

But that is the nature of the gospel. The good news is often hard news, unsettling news, difficult news. But it doesn’t make it any less good. And while I don’t want to spiritualize or take away from the gritty truth that Jesus proclaims in these verses, I think we have to consider that the more comfortable we become in our lives – and I just don’t mean with wealth or material goods – but the more removed from the world’s suffering , the more comfortable and complacent we become, the less room there is for God. When I am self-satisfied, I don’t think about God. When I am complacent, I don’t make room for God. When I am surrounded by the things that keep the pain of the world away, I can easily shut out, shut off God’s call, God’s urging, prodding, pushing, pulling call.

Yet we don’t have to look very far to see how quickly lives can be changed. Tornadoes can level homes that were solid, strong, and built to stand for generations. A relatively simple virus can cause the deaths of millions upon millions of people. Everything that we work for, hope for, can be swept away in a fraction of a millisecond.

Life has a way of leveling us. And Jesus, of all people, knew that. You cannot hide behind your things or your money or your comforts. God’s kingdom levels the field, not out of retribution and punishment and wrath, or the divine evil eye, but out of love. God does not want any of God’s children to suffer, but to woe to those who forget that. Woe to you if you think that what you have or what you do or what you accumulate will make God unnecessary. Jesus stood on a level place, with them, eye-to-eye, toe-to-toe, because he was with them. He stood on this level place to announce the good news that God was making a leveled place for all of them, for all of us, for all of God’s children. Don’t lose sight of that. Don’t forget that. In the beginning and in the end, in life and in death, we belong not to our things or our work or our joys or to our sorrows but to God.

Jesus stood on a level, leveled place, with the people, with us. With. Us. Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.”

Amen.