We know that the words of Jesus are timeless. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away, he says elsewhere (Matthew 24:35). And yet, on this particular weekend, in this particular country, to preach that those who are hungry are blessed can feel out of step.

Jesus, of course, was echoing the song his mother sang when she was carrying him, the one we know as the Magnificat; the one that includes the lines,

God has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty – Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. (Luke 1:53; 6:25)

And Mary, in turn, was riffing off of Hannah, who sang so many centuries before.

Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
but those who were hungry are fat with spoil – Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. (1 Samuel 2:5; Luke 6:21)

Timeless. For so many centuries, that see-saw of hunger and satisfaction, blessing and warning, joy and mourning has been rising and falling in song and in society, without, apparently, any resolution as yet.

I’m not here to talk politics. I believe that there are choices as a nation that we could make to bless the hungry and raise up the poor and put-upon in spirit. And, the choices that Jesus invites us to make go beyond the politics of the moment. They are fundamental. They are timeless.

Here is what Jesus offers by way of instruction after he repeats his foremothers’ song:

Listen. Love. Do good. Bless. Pray. Offer, and do not wit hhold. Give without asking for return. Do to others as you would have them do to you. (Luke 6:27-31)

That’s where the see-saw balances, isn’t it? Do to others as you would have them do to you. Love one another, love your neighbour, love your enemy. Love God before all and the image of God in every person, as you would have them see you, beloved of God and worthy of the love of neighbour. This is the pivot point of the see-saw, the fulcrum of the lever: the love of God.

I don’t think that it’s much of a stretch to say that this balance is present when we come to baptism, or to the commemoration of All Saints and All Souls. In each, death and resurrection, a new life, are represented and made visible. Regret is turned into repentance and the communion of saints murmur absolution; oil and water meet at the font; mourning and singing mingle at the altar.

And in each of these commemorations we recognize that we are none of us Christians alone, none of human alone; that each of our blessings and woes adds to the movement of the see-saw.

It is a joy and a privilege to return to this place, where I learned – where you taught me – so much about how to become a priest. And as I look out among the pews, I see so much that has changed, and so much that remains the same. I see the memories, spirits of people who are no longer here, who have joined the Communion of Saints, the cloud of witnesses, or simply moved on. I see new life that has emerged to join this crowd of witnesses and worshippers. What a joy and a privilege to be part of the sacrament of baptism this morning, the promise of a future filled with the Holy Spirit, the breath of life.

When we are baptized into the Body of Christ, we join ourselves with something that is dynamic, living and therefore ever-changing; and yet which is eternal, and thereby constant. Whatever the ups and downs of this life, the foundation of the church, Jesus, stands. That is a comfort, and a constancy that we need in these tumultuous times – and when are the affairs of humanity ever not tumultuous?

And as we stand on that foundation, swaying a little, but trusting, Jesus says, Listen. Love. Do good. Bless. Pray.

Be the blessing that will bring us closer to the kingdom of God that Mary and Hannah sang of. Do the good in this moment, at this time that will let others know the enduring love of God, who feeds us on bread and wine. Listen, heed the warnings that Jesus offers to those who think that they are untouched by the needs of others. Love God, love your neighbour, change their world, change our world.

Archimedes is widely reported to have said, Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world (to paraphrase a diocesan tagline).

The love of God, unfailing, unflinching, all-blessing, baptizing creation God’s mercy: that is the support, the pivot point, the fulcrum upon which the lever rests. All we are asked to do is to lean into it.