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*This sermon was preached at Zion Mennonite Church on
1/24/16 and at Portland Mennonite Church on 1/31/16. Audio of the sermon can be
found at: http://zionmennoniteoregon.org/worship-services/worship-recordings/
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our
hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our Rock and Redeemer.
It was just another
normal Sabbath day in Nazareth when ol’ Joe’s boy stood up to read scripture in
his home congregation. It was like any simple Sunday at church when the reader
grabs a Bible, thumbs through the pages and finds the assigned text to read for
that day. There were no angels flitting about willy nilly. No bright star in
the sky. No heavenly visions. No devil offering rocks for bread. No crackling
of straightening limbs. No matted-hair-camel-hide-Jordan-drenched wild man
screaming across a muddy river. Just a bunch of regular church-goin’ folks,
like you and me, sitting in their pews waiting for the scripture to be read.
That’s all they were expecting to hear. The plain, unadorned reading of their Bible.
No big whoop.
If, as a young man, I
had heard in my home congregation what was read on that routine Sabbath, my
ears probably would have tingled. It seems to me that back in my younger years the
kind of text that Jesus read must have been cut out of our Bible, or at least
the Bible I heard in church. You see,
my home congregation was deep fried in the Southern evangelical tradition. We
knew the Bible from “civer to civer,” could quote chapter and verse. But
strangely enough, rarely, if ever, was anyone assigned to stand on a Sunday
morning and read the text for the day. And the texts that were read and
preached upon were usually chosen randomly by the pastor, that is, if they were
of the John 3:16 or Roman Road variety. And our response to the word was
consistently a long, drawn out plea for sinners to come forward, with every head
bowed and every eye closed and just one more excruciating verse of Just As I Am. You could expect to hear
about how to get to heaven and avoid the scorching heat, and I’m not talking California
desert, on any given Sunday. So, to have heard about good news for the poor,
liberation for the captives, and freedom for the oppressed, would have probably
sounded like Chinese at Pentecost! I mean, it would have been as foreign and as
scary as that ol’ boogey man we called “the social gospel.”
But, these weren’t
Southern evangelicals in Jesus’ home congregation. They were traditional kosher
Jews. But like the evangelicals of my upbringing, they knew their scripture.
And like those evangelicals they considered the scripture holy, sacred, God’s
very word, to be heard and followed. Difference is that most people in Jesus’
day were part of oral cultures where only a few could read. They had to learn
and remember their sacred scripture by heart, through word of mouth. And from
our story today, it appears that Jesus was one of the few in his home
congregation who could read the text on that Sabbath day.
The synagogue
attendant hands Jesus the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. In our Christian
imaginations we might picture Jesus with a glowing gold halo behind his head as
he semi-floats to the podium to read from the scroll. We would like to imagine
that he had a deep, commanding James Earl Jones voice with a British accent.
But, when he starts reading he sounds like he has a plain ol’ Nazareth twang
like e’rybody else. Most likely what he read was an assigned text in a cycle of
readings for that particular Sabbath, like our lectionary reading for today.
With prayer shawl over
his head and every eye glued upon him, Jesus begins reading:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor,
to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
There were no
social-gospel gasps, no ears burning at Isaiah’s prophetic message of social
justice. The reading was as welcome as it would be at a progressive Mennonite
Church listening to one of their own preaching on the same text. There was no
noise of protest at such a liberating message. Just the sound of the scroll being
rolled up and Jesus handing it back to the hazzan
or synagogue attendant and sitting down. No big whoop.
I could expound on
how Jesus cut off his reading right before the verse that speaks of the
“vengeance of our God.” And I could further elucidate on how Jesus creatively interpreted
scripture through a lens of nonviolence, but I would only digress. Instead, I
will turn to the longing eyes that are fixed on Jesus. These eyes are wet with
the hopes of release from their captivity to the occupying forces of the Roman Empire.
These eyes blink bewildered by their own bigotry. These eyes search for signs
of freedom from the impoverishment and sickness of an oppressed people. These
eyes weep for that day when God’s grace and favor will pour down like rain on
parched land. These eyes are fixed upon Jesus as he takes his seat.
Now, this was no
ordinary sitting, like a 60s “sit in” was no ordinary sitting. In Jesus’
context sitting was the position that the teacher took in the synagogue. Scripture
was read standing. Exposition or explanation was done seated. Their eyes are
fixed upon Jesus because they’re eagerly waiting for him to exegete, expound
upon, and interpret the scripture for them and their day, like a Rabbi or
teacher. Jesus has no long speech. His commentary is short and sweet. He simply
says: Today this scripture has been
fulfilled in your hearing. Hmmm. Now, what in heaven’s name does that mean?
Well, we
know what it means for us. We have the advantage of 2000
years of hind sight. We know that Luke placed this story at the opening of his
gospel as a way of encapsulating the whole of Jesus’ ministry. So, we need not resist
the truth that the “social gospel” of justice and human liberation are at the
very heart of Jesus’ mission. We know Luke will focus his gospel and its
sequel, the book of Acts, on the poor, women, outsiders, and the goyim, Gentiles or non-Jews. We know
that this story fits into the larger picture of Luke’s gospel in which the
message and mission of Christ begins among his own people but ends up spreading
out across the whole world among all peoples.
We also know that
Jesus is taking on the role of the Suffering Servant of Isaiah, as he reads
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me.” Isn’t
it obvious to us that Jesus is speaking about himself? Well, at least to us. The
text is no longer about the Spirit anointed prophet during the days of Israel’s
exile or some obscure figure who will eventually come to enact these signs of
God’s coming reign. For us, Isaiah’s words are about Jesus. And we, unlike
those who are hearing these words from Jesus’s lips for the first time,
recognize that he is applying Isaiah’s words to himself. Jesus dares to take
the words of scripture and make them about his
life, his mission, his day and time. What a wild and daring
idea Jesus enacts! Taking these ancient words of scripture and applying them to
himself and his mission in his contemporary world. What a revolutionary thought!
I wonder what that would mean for us to do the same. I wonder.
Through his baptism Jesus
has been anointed as God’s prophet. The Spirit is upon him to bring good news
to the anawim, the poor, up to 90% of
agrarian peasant societies; proclaim liberation to the captives, in Isaiah’s
day those bound in debtor’s prison; sight to the blind, both physically and
spiritually; freedom for the oppressed, economically and politically; and to
proclaim the time of God’s favor, rather than God’s vengeance. God’s new age
begins at that very moment. Jesus’ presence on that day in the synagogue
inaugurates the coming kingdom of liberation for all God’s people! In response
to the words of Jesus we might expect those in the synagogue to shout, “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the
coming of the Lord!” Hallelujah!
But, there are no
shouts of “Hallelujah!” or “preach it, brother!” not even a “Thank you,
Jesus…for reading the scripture this morning.” The words that describe the
response to Jesus are as plain as an Amish meeting on a Sunday morning: All spoke well of him. Don’t they fathom
the depth of the words that Jesus just spoke? Not only does God bring liberation
and justice for their ancestors in exile, but for them starting right here and
right now! Doesn’t his revolutionary message register?
I imagine their
response was kind of like the compliments a typical preacher hears on a Sunday
morning after the sermon as church people file out of the building and give the
preacher that obligatory handshake: “Sir, that was a rather interesting interpretation
of scripture, very articulate.” “Pastor, that’s one of my favorite Bible verses.
I could listen to it all day long.” “Nice sermon, preacher. I heard every word.
Boy, you sure know how to stick it to those
people!” And they were all amazed at his
gracious words.
There was no “Finally,
the Messiah has come!” or “Justice and liberation are at our doorstep!” or
“God’s reign has now begun!” They simply said…. “Ain’t that ol’ Joe’s boy?” He’s
just one of us local yokels. Why, his pappy done built a crib for my eldest daughter.
He went to school with Ezra’s boy, didn’t he? Ahh, he’s no big whoop!
Jesus must have
intuited what was on the people’s minds and hearts when he responded: I suspect you will quote to me that old folk
saying, “Doc, cure yourself.” Jesus, why not perform some miracles among your
own people. It’s like they didn’t get a word Jesus said. My mission is
about justice and God’s reign, beginning here and now. And you ask for signs,
miracles? My mission is not about turning stones into bread or being able to leap
off tall buildings with a single bound.
Doctor heal yourself. Do some miraculous razzle dazzle among your own people, Jesus, like
you did in Capernaum. Jesus perceives that their concern is more about healing
and signs for themselves, than it is about the reign of God for all people here
and now. They don’t catch what his presence implies or the broader meaning of
God’s reign.
But, Jesus doesn’t
break out into a fiery, John the Baptist rant against his own people. Jesus
speaks as a prophet, but in a rather oblique way, at an angle. What Jesus does
seems rather innocuous on the surface. And yet, he’s about to explode all their
narrow-minded, parochial views to kingdom come by telling stories. Hidden
inside his storytelling is a Trojan horse, as dangerous and explosive as a
stick of dynamite in a nursery rhyme. He basically tells them treacherous stories,
volatile stories from their own sacred scripture, God’s holy Word, to be heard
and followed.
Jesus says, “Truly,
I tell you…” Better watch out when Jesus uses those words. I first heard those
words in good old inspired King James English: Verily, verily, I say unto thee… That meant something significant
was about to be said by Jesus, so listen up, people! Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s home town. Jesus’
friends, neighbors, community, his own people seem to take him for granted and end
up rejecting him, especially when he speaks as a prophet of God’s inclusive, liberating
reign right here and now.
Then, Jesus grabs
hold of a couple of tough-as-leather stories from their own holy scriptures, like
two boxing gloves. These were stories they knew by heart, or should I rather say, stories they knew by head. These stories were like a one-two
punch in the gut! Ding. Ding. Round One. Jesus floats like a butterfly and
stings like a bee! He winds up. There
were many in Israel in the time of
Elijah, when the heaven was shut up for three years and six months, and there
was a severe famine in the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to
a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. Holy Jesus, what did you just say? While
God’s own people are hungry, the prophet Elijah shows God’s grace to a woman, a
widow, a foreigner, a non-Jew who lived among the worshippers of Baal? Pow! I imagine the heads of Jesus’
listeners were reeling, wobbling, and spinning, as they hung on the ropes about
to hit the mat. And our heads are spinning trying to think of what this
possibly might mean for us today.
Without hesitation,
Jesus goes in for the knockout punch. Ding. Ding. Round 2. There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of Elisha, and none
of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian. What did you say, Jesus? Did
you say Syrian? Jesus, are you serious? Is this just some odd
coincidence or do you mean Syrian as
in (gulp) Syrian refugees? O Lord,
show us, what in the world this scripture might possibly mean for us today?
Let me chew on this
for a minute. Does this mean God’s message may not be welcomed even by God’s
own people? Could people, like me, who call themselves “Christians” not really get
what Jesus is saying, like when he says, “Love your enemies and bless those who
persecute you”? That’s not fair, Lord. I’m on your side. I just want to see you
give those right wing bigots what’s comin’ to them! It’s time for God’s
vengeance! Are we unable to recognize the face of Jesus in the poor and the
prisoner, the unwelcomed and the undocumented? Jesus, are you implying that you
may need to take your healing grace to people who are not your own people?
Lord, I’m still
searching for what this might mean for us right here and right now. Do you mean
God may favor people from another country over the U.S.? God forbid! Lord,
haven’t you heard that we are exceptional, a Christian nation? Jesus, do you
mean God’s favor might sometimes fall upon another faith other than Christian? No
way! Becoming a Christian is the only way to receive God’s favor. And how about
me, Lord, your servant? I didn’t spend all these many years in Christian
ministry with all its struggles for you to just turn around and say you’re
showing your favor to someone else! That’s not fair! Lord, could this word mean
that today God might be acting for the benefit of another race other than us
white folks? Surely, not! All Lives Matter! And how could that be since it’s mostly
us white folks who are here in this congregation on any given Sunday listening
to Jesus’ message? All the while, do those of us listening to Jesus’ words fully comprehend their meaning for ourselves
and our own context?
What is the reaction
of God’s people to Jesus’ words? Nice
sermon, preacher. That’s a rather interesting take on that scripture, sir. No.
No. No. When they heard, all in the
synagogue were filled with red, hot, boiling, rage! Why were his people so
enraged? Was it simply because Jesus implied that his own people aren’t really
grasping the full import of his message and not welcoming him? Yes, but I think
it was more than that. Jesus was proclaiming that God is graciously working in healing
ways that transcend God’s own people by bringing good news, liberation,
freedom, grace and favor to others, like the Canaanite widow and Naaman the
Syrian. Or we could add from Luke’s continuing story, the Ethiopian eunuch (possibly
a gay, black man) or Cornelius the centurian (a Roman military soldier) or Lydia
the business woman (probably a leader of a local synagogue of women). God only
knows where divine healing grace and transforming favor will end up.
How did Jesus’ home
congregation react to this message? They reacted like a mob of “radicalized Christians”
at a rally of a certain politician when they saw a Muslim woman wearing a hijab
silently standing with this message printed like words of Jesus on her t-shirt
“Salam. I come in peace.” They reacted like the crowd that encountered a black
man at their rally who openly proclaimed the message, “Black Lives Matter!” They
got up and drove Jesus out of town. They took him on a loooooong walk off a
short cliff, a cliff that oddly enough looked like the shadow of a cross, or
should I say, a foreshadow…of the cross that was to come.
The difference for
us well-mannered, peace-loving Christians today is that we probably wouldn’t
become enraged and try to shove Jesus off a cliff. If you’re like me, you don’t
want to openly offend anyone. So, we might simply clench our teeth, give him a
limp handshake and with a smirk on our face say, “Nice sermon, Jesus,” and go
on our mad and merry way. No crucifixion; at least for this moment. Somehow
Jesus passes through the midst of the angry mob and goes on his way.
And when he went on
his way, where did he end up? Christ ended up on an old rugged cross, the emblem
of….state torture and terrorism. Christ ended up in a dark Saturday tomb. Christ
ended up on a bright Sunday triumphing over the oppressive forces that snuffed
out the candle of his life. Christ ended up bringing light and life to people
of all races, gender identities, sexual orientations, national origins, political persuasions, and economic circumstances.
Christ ended up within the sacred scriptures of his own people which beckon us to
truly hear and follow his word. Christ ended up inspiring movements of liberation,
freedom, justice, peace, and equality across the globe. Christ ended up
transforming hearers and believers into followers and advocates engaged in the
ways of God’s reign in their own lives. Christ ended up embodied in his forgiven
people, followers of Jesus’ way, who seek to live out his life-giving,
liberating word in the world in which they find themselves. They, like Jesus, dare
to take upon themselves his words for
their own time and context with whatever risk and danger may come their way.
We are these very followers
of the Risen Christ, baptized by water and Spirit. The Spirit of the Lord is upon us,
because we have been anointed to
bring good news to the poor! Here and now! The Spirit of the Lord is upon us, to proclaim liberation to the captives!
Here and now! The Spirit of the Lord is upon us, to give insight into God’s healing work in the world! Here and
now! The Spirit of the Lord is upon us, to
free the oppressed! Here and now! The Spirit of the Lord is upon us, because we have been anointed to proclaim that now is the time of God’s favor for all of God’s children. Here and
now! Truly, truly I say unto you, my people, the Spirit of the Lord is upon us! Here…. and….now!
There is more light and truth yet to break forth from
God’s holy Word.
