Sermon Lent 5 (C)

You will always have the poor with you.

Many hear the words of Jesus as a sort of escape clause to remove themselves from our shared responsibility.

Why bother trying to address the poverty, even Jesus said it’s always going to be here.?

And yet: we know that this is NOT the way of Jesus.

Yes, financial poverty exists – it’s everywhere, in every time. There are people who lack the basic resources to live a full and healthy life. Poverty is a complex social reality, with serious consequences; and so it is in all of our interest to do what we can to both react to immediate needs, and to respond to underlying conditions that lead to these needs. Addressing poverty is a ministry that we all share.

And today, Jesus is inviting us to move deeper into our understanding of and response to the poverty that will always be with us.

Our reaction to that statement should be one of shock and offense.

We should be shaken to the core with a desire for better.

And that means we are called to DO better. To BE better.

Jesus in this important interchange is not telling us to become complacent to the reality of poverty. In fact, he is pointing us to our own systems and structures and actions that call us into eradicating poverty.

One commentary I read this week points to the well-known teachings of the Torah, in Deuteronomy 15.11, where God says: Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbour in your land.’

God is consistent in telling us that the response to poverty is through us.

Imagine if we did just that.

Imagine if we spent some time to be intentional about understanding the human frailty (a very Lenten theme) that is present in our communities.

Because while this is not easy work; Jesus reminds us that it is Holy Work.

It is OUR work: we are invited to make this work personal – not unlike Jesus’ friend – not a servant – anointing his feet; and using her very hair – not a towel – to absorb the excess.

And while we understand that poverty needs an immediate reaction to a need as well as a systemic response to the underlying roots, we seldom pause to consider the systems and structures that we live and operate within, in which poverty exists. This is our context.

BUT Jesus challenges us to challenge those systems.

You’ll always have the poor with you, he says – because your systems are set up in a way that allow that poverty to exist.

Ouch.

So we do the best we can.

And we are grateful to live in a culture with a social safety net – even though we know there are holes.

And many do a LOT to help fill those gaps – yet without fixing the system, gaps will continue, and thus the cycle of poverty continues.

So we do the best we can.

Not counting cost, as Judas spoke of – but of celebrating abundance and the sharing of our communal resources – as Jesus’ friend demonstrated.

And we know we could do better. And Jesus invites us – gently yet firmly – into that work.

In fact, Jesus’ few words can be life-changing for all of us, as we make the move from a closed way of being, to a vibrant celebration of life. Like Lazarus.

To take this understanding a little deeper, we look at the whole content of Jesus’ words here.

You will always have the poor with you, Jesus says, but you won’t always have me.

Jesus is not making a biological statement about the assured human mortality. Yes, he’s foreshadowing his own earthly death, but he is also speaking to us about our own encounters with the Christ.

The Christ who calls us to love one another, who built his church on the premises of charity and grace and love and welcome. And now he’s saying – we won’t always have that.

That’s shocking. It’s meant to be. It’s meant to jar us into action to prevent it from happening.

To realise that our disconnect happens when we allow poverty to happen in our midst.

When we pass judgements of others’ spending habits, or mock their food choices, or silently endorse the broken system that holds people in that poverty.

When we turn against one of God’s beloved, we have turned against Jesus: and we do not have him with us – though the needs of our neighbours remain.

Jesus further calls us to remember that poverty – a lacking – applies to so much more than financial means.

There are the poor in health:

and those lacking joy.

There are those needing connection,

and those experiencing an absence of hope.

There is poverty of awareness (of self and of others),

and those who have need of welcome – to community, to church.

Some are poor in spirit – whom Jesus said would receive blessing and the kingdom of heaven.

And we: WE can be the ones to show blessing to the poor among us. Those in need.

If only we would look for them.

And see them.

And truly engage in loving ways that are helpful and faithful solutions – which doesn’t always mean they’re quick and easy.

And here Jesus invites us not just to look around, but also to look inward.

To see where we are lacking; where we have closed our hearts; where we have – inadvertently – turned away from Jesus. For we have all been there: poor and in need.

Thus Jesus calls us to repent – meaning turn around – and come back to him.

…and in that journey back, to come with a new learning, a new compassion, a new understanding of what it feels like to go through that.

And to use that experience as a basis to help others in their journey – not to force them on our paths, but to ask how we might help them - as they direct their own course to God; just as others have accompanied us on our courses.

It’s a new thing that Jesus is inviting us to.

The New Thing of renewed life and vibrancy that the prophet Isaiah spoke of, that we are told is springing forth – is coming from within us.

God does not give some already-completed utopian perfection TO us so that we might personally benefit;

God gives us all a new thing FOR us! It stirs within us (as individuals AND as community) our desire and passion for the world to be a better place. A kinder place, a more loving place, a more welcoming place.

And thus: we are changed. And our actions are changed, and God’s new thing may be known THROUGH us, for the benefit of all.

For the journey of faith is not a solo journey: we do not do this alone.

We do not do this just for ourselves or our families.

We do it for God – and all of God’s people.

For God has brought us together for this: a new thing of re-energised love and grace and faith – that God is already working within us, waiting patiently for us to perceive, embrace, and share.

I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

I pray we all perceive God’s exciting new things within us, that we may be a people – a church – truly sharing the richness of God.