Daniel 7.1-3, 15-18; Ephesians 1.11-23; Luke 6.20-31

I wonder whether any of you have seen the car-window sticker that says: “Jesus loves you” in large letters, but then continues, “but everyone else thinks you’re an idiot.”

Not a very encouraging thing to be displaying perhaps, and certainly inconsistent with Jesus’s ways which insist that we view everyone as having worth and value, not as idiots.

But, there is also a deep truth ingrained in the words on that sticker. All of us are idiots at some point; all of us get things wrong; all of us say things we wish we hadn’t or react to situations in ways that make them worse not better. And yet Jesus continues to love us.

In fact, Jesus was the one who praised those who recognised that they weren’t right with God, that they did get things wrong, in his words “Only those who are sick need a doctor.”

It wasn’t those who believed that they had it right who were the ones that Jesus would be able to set free and lead forward, but those who knew they hadn’t.

All Saints’ Sunday is a good time to remind ourselves that religion is not enough. Religion - and here I’m meaning religion in the sense of outward practice - is not enough without a change of heart and mind, without a redirecting of our lives and priorities to those of Jesus.

The saints are exactly those people who have redirected their lives and centred them around Jesus. Saints are not born but made. We all have the potential to be a saint, and in one sense, we all are.
Paul used the word saint to refer to all Christians. So we are all saints. And the great thing about the Gospel is that Jesus accepts us as we are before any changes. He accepts us, forgives us and then longs for us to respond to that and to follow his ways. We don’t make ourselves holy, though, of course, that is the work of the Holy Spirit, once we have opened our hearts to its work within us.

But we also know that there are specific people, and have always been throughout history, who seem to live particularly saintly lives. Perhaps they have given their lives to teaching others about God’s love and what it means, and so spreading the good news. It’s worth remembering that Jesus after his resurrection gave the commandment to the apostles - go and make disciples of all nations. They were sent out - the word apostle means sent.

Perhaps they have given up security and wealth to live among the poor and to help them make lives for themselves. Or maybe they have spent their lives tending the sick and needy. At heart, in this sense, a saint is a Christian hero - a hero who may be known by others, but who may also be a totally unsung hero.

Jesus was clear that when we pray and do God’s work we should do it regardless of whether others know about it. For of course, God will always know.

The word saint comes from the Latin sanctus, which is the translation of the Greek word used in the Bible hagios - you may have come across that in the word “hagiography” - the writing of the lives of saints.

A saint is a holy one. Someone who allows the Holy Spirit to refine and change them, someone whose whole life is focused around God, someone who truly lives out the commandments to love God and to love one’s neighbour.

There are certain values that people who are saints recognise as being the ways of God. In our Gospel reading this morning we heard Luke’s version of the Beatitudes, not nearly so familiar as the Matthean one, which is what people immediately think of when they hear the phrase “The Beatitudes”.

In Matthew Jesus gives this sermon on a mountain - not so in Luke, the context here is a plain. Throughout Luke’s Gospel an underlying theme is that God’s life is for all people, that it’s not an exclusive thing, only for Jews, or men, or religious people, or good people, or those at the heart of society. Luke always has a heart for the poor, the outcast, the struggling, the sinner.
So there is in one sense a symbolism in his situating this sermon on a plain.

Matthew’s mountain recalls the mountain on which Moses received the Ten Commandment and portrays Jesus as the new Moses. And mountains had always been associated with God - people went up mountains to find God - perhaps a sense that the higher you went geographically, the nearer to heaven you were.

But Luke’s God, in Jesus, has come down to the plain. His presence isn’t unattainable nor confined to the mountain-top, he is here for everyone, stooping down to be on our level. We are probably all familiar with the words from Philippians which Paul wrote that describe this coming down to our level so well -”He,” that is, Jesus, “though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God as something to be grasped at but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in human likeness.”

Jesus is a God who came down to our level so that we might be raised to his. That is what the saints recognise and hold before them.

So let’s look a little more closely at Luke’s Beatitudes. There are four sets - four blessings, which he pairs with four curses or woes.

Blessed are you who are poor, note the change from Matthew’s poor in spirit. Many of the saints have given up worldly riches to follow Jesus because they recognise that true wealth is not found in money and possessions. St Francis gave up all his riches to live in poverty with others and to help the poor, the outcast and the derelict.

But being poor is not just about giving things up. Recall the story Jesus told about the pearl of great price - how it was so precious that the finder gave up everything he had in order to possess it.

It goes hand-in-hand with a woe - woe to you who are rich - you’ve got all you need now. It recalls another parable - the man who pulled down his barns to build bigger ones to store all his grain but who then died that night and had to face the truth that he couldn’t take his wealth with him beyond the grave.

Blessed are you who are hungry now. Woe to you who are rich. Recall another parable - that of the rich man and Lazarus. The rich man had enjoyed blessings on earth; it was Lazarus who received them for eternity. God’s wealth is different in form and content from worldly wealth. God’s wealth is about the bread of life - that will satisfy our true hunger.

Blessed are you who weep, but woe to those who laugh. Our Bibles are full of images where in God’s kingdom those who suffer now will find liberation and healing and freedom.
Suffering is tough and no one denies that, but Jesus implies that those who suffer now will not do so in God’s kingdom.

It’s hard to accept that God’s view of history is different from ours. When we suffer, whether it’s from sickness, bereavement, relationship break-ups, problems at work or the misfortune of those we love, it’s hard to look up and see that our suffering lasts but a short time when compared with eternity, but that’s what Jesus asks us to do. Those who laughed at Jesus and mocked him will find the future less attractive.

Blessed are you when people hate you, when they exclude you, revile you, defame you. Nobody wants to be unpopular, but there will be woe for those who are proud. That woe often comes about because what we praise in others is not what is of long-lasting value in God’s eyes.

Our celebrity culture beings this into view well - in a day and a time where people become celebrities just for being a celebrity. It’s a strange old world.

When we’re praised for the wrong things, we are tempted away from God. We trust in our own abilities or wealth or personality and not on God’s Holy Spirit. In the Old Testament, the people who received praise were the false prophets because they had a message that people liked. The true prophets - Jeremiah, Isaiah, Ezekiel - whose task was to call people back to God had a hard time of it, but Jesus points out that in heaven they will find reward.

These values that Luke depicts Jesus talking about are all shown in Jesus’s own life. These are also the values of the saints. How do we live up to them?