Of Mice and Men

"The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men…" Before yesterday I could not have completed that quotation. For me it was always followed by an ellipsis, those three dots that fade off into the distance, leaving the ending implied, but unsaid. That’s most often how we hear the phrase. "The best laid schemes of mice and men… dot, dot, dot."

Some of you, maybe, know the full quotation and its context. Your schooling in poetry was more thorough than mine or maybe you were among those St. John’s folks who I know recently attended a Robert Burns celebration. The line is from Burns’ poem entitled, "To a Mouse: On Turning up her Nest with the Plough, November 1785." The title really says it all. The words are addressed to a mouse after the fall plowing has destroyed her den. The poem is a poignant description of a wee, sleek, cowering, timorous beastie with panic in her breast. Her house is in ruin, a house built by her at wearying cost, and winter’s wind and sleet are coming.

Listen to the final two stanzas.

The best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft agley. No wonder I couldn’t remember the rest of the quotation. For those of us who aren’t fluent in brogue, my annotated version of the poem states that the words mean what we might expect: The best laid schemes of mice and men go often amiss.

Even the best laid… Even our best laid schemes often go amiss.

"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…"

There is a connection, I suggest, between Jesus’ difficult words in Luke that we heard this morning and Robert Burns’ sentiments. This morning’s gospel passage from Luke is often called the Sermon on the Plain. It probably describes the same event in Jesus’ ministry that is recounted in Matthew’s more familiar Sermon on the Mount. There are notable differences, however, in the two evangelists’ telling of the story. For one thing, having been up on the mountain to pray, Luke’s Jesus comes down to a level place to speak to the people, presumably standing face to face, eye to eye, with those whom he addresses. Matthew recounts nine beatitudes; Luke only four. But even more striking are Luke’s woes. Woe to you who are rich. Woe to you who are well-fed. Woe to you who are laughing. Woe to you when people speak well of you. The woes do not appear in Matthew. Maybe that’s one reason we seem to prefer Matthew’s version. These are difficult words to hear and to understand.

You will notice that Luke’s blessings and woes are in matched pairs. Blessed are you who are poor; woe to you who are rich. Blessed are you who are hungry; woe to you who are full. Blessed are you who weep; woe to you who are laughing. Blessed are you when people hate you; woe to you when all speak well of you.

What are we to do with these words? Jesus seems to curse that which is good and to bless that which is not good. The couplets of blessing and woe seem exactly reversed from what we might expect and desire. And note that Luke, unlike Matthew, does not spiritualize or allegorize the human condition. When Luke says poor, he means poor, not poor in spirit, or poor in imagination or poor in theological sophistication or any other interpretation we might cast onto these words. Luke means poor. No money. No resources. And when Luke says hungry, he means a stomach that aches for lack of food. These were the people to whom Luke’s words are addressed. Blessed are you poor. Blessed are you hungry.

But in Luke’s Sermon on the Plain, Jesus also addresses the rich and satisfied. Most of us, materially at least, would have to put ourselves in that group. So are Jesus’ woe sayings a call, a challenge, to us to quite literally give up, give away, get rid of our money (all of it) and the food which sustains us and our families? Are we to deny ourselves all things that bring laughter and joy into our lives? To give up those accomplishments that earn us praise and respect among others? For us who have so much, it is perhaps not bad to first hear Jesus’ words that way. We share a world, after all, with millions upon millions who do not have the luxury of choosing to give up anything.

But most likely, Jesus did not mean these words prescriptively. They are not a prescription for how we should live. They do not provide a how-to manual for Christians who wish to attain blessedness. Jesus does not say: If you become poor you will be blessed. Jesus’ words are not instructions on how to achieve a certain spiritual result.

Jesus’ words are statements of fact. Jesus is describing reality in the present tense. This is how it is in God’s world. Blessed are you who are poor. A statement of fact. Blessed are you poor. You who are poor, do not think that poverty, loss, pain, hunger, persecution are signs of God’s abandonment. Jesus, who after all knew a lot about all of those conditions (poverty, loss, pain, hunger and persecution), assures his listeners there on the plain and here in the pews, that these are not signs of God’s indifference or anger. On the contrary, Jesus’ own suffering, even more than his words, is "proof" of God’s presence and blessing in the midst of the worst that human life may be. Blessed are you who are poor, hungry, lost, alone, suffering, put down. Blessed are you. God is with you.

But as for those of you, Jesus says, who might think that riches or success are signs of God’s favor or the pathway to God’s blessing… Woe to you. It is not necessarily the riches or success that are bad in and of themselves, but if you think your riches will bring you blessing, woe to you. Woe to you if you think the standing in life you have schemed to attain will bring you peace or true security. Woe to you if you think the abundant bounty on your table will bring a seat of privilege at God’s table. Woe to you if you have mistaken what passes for human happiness for the joy of God’s kingdom. Or if woe doesn’t seem like the right word, maybe we should say, "pity on you." Pity on us if we think human striving will bring us God’s blessing.

The best laid schemes of mine and men… go oft amiss.

Jeremiah said much the same thing, long before Jesus or Robert Burns. "Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals and make mere flesh their strength… They shall be like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see when relief comes. They shall live in the parched places of the wilderness, in an uninhabited salt land. Blessed are those who trust in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord. They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit."

Listen again to Robert Burns.

…the hopeless words of someone who has put his trust in mere mortals. Human schemes may promise joy, but that promise is vain. This does not necessarily mean we must give up all that we have, all that we have earned or achieved. But we are to be pitied if we think our riches or status are a sign or source of God’s blessing. We are to pitied if we put our trust in mere mortals (even ourselves) or make mere flesh our strength. Jeremiah warms us that that leads only to a parched and barren life.

But those who trust in the Lord need not fear. We need not fear the present nor be anxious about the future. No matter what the chances and changes of human life, God is with us. For better, for worse; for richer, for poor; in sickness and in health, God’s loving presence is unfailing and true.

Pity those who put their trust in human schemes. Blessed are those who trust in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord.

Sermon Index
Comments are welcome.  Send to krisorr@att.net