Texts: Nehemiah 8: 1-3, 5-6, 8-10
Psalm 19
1 Corinthians 12: 12-31a
Luke 4: 14-21 *
“Jesus: Enfleshment of the Prophets’ Voice”
--} More often than not, we treat Jesus’ words in today’s gospel lesson as a kind of “inaugural address” for his ministry. Having won the election—so to speak—Jesus turns to the initial proclamation of what his ministry is supposed to be about. It’s important, too, to recognize that like any election campaign, the “Inaugural” is hardly the first words we’ve heard spoken by the candidate—suddenly newly installed into office.
Luke tells us that following his baptism, Jesus returns to Galilee “filled with the power of the Spirit” and that “a report spread about him through all the surrounding country;” that Jesus began to “teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.” Then Jesus comes to his hometown, Nazareth—where he grew up; and Luke invites us into one of these revelatory moments.
These were incredibly prophetic words. Like any good candidate on the campaign trail, Jesus knows how to dish out hope and prosperity. And more than just empty campaign promises, we’ve come to see Jesus as throwing down the gauntlet—as if to say, “THIS” is what the Kingdom of God is all about—good news to the poor, release to the captives, sight for the blind, the oppressed going free, the year of the Lord’s favor!” Who could disagree with these words, these terms, these ideals? But you’ll be shocked and surprised when I say, “We do!”[Jesus] went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me 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.”
And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down.
“What?!”
Oh, of course we agree in principle. It’s just that we like to see ourselves as “recipients” rather than the ones “anointed to carry the message to others.” We look at ourselves, as if we were the poor, the captive, the blind, and the oppressed. We look at ourselves as if we weren’t participants in “hopelessness” for so many in the world today. Our lives are shaped predominantly by our capitalist ideals—more is better, “have it your way,” get the cake and eat it too, bigger, stronger, faster, better. And Jesus’ words challenge all of these presuppositions.
Ask people what makes for a “good church” and I’ll venture that “most people” identify churches that have high attendance numbers, a big budget, a newer building, maybe even the churches that do mission projects and help others. But my guess is that few people would use this list of “campaign goals” offered up by Jesus. Jesus’ prophetic voice challenges many of the values you and I are taught and believe in. We simply don’t demonstrate very well the “fulfillment” of Jesus’ words—as astonishing as that may sound.
I mean who, really, is against good news for the poor, or release for the captive, or recovery of sight for the blind, or letting the oppressed go free? And it turns out… we are. We may wring our hands about what’s happened in Haiti; we may even have recognized that some of the horrific pictures look a lot like those pictures from New Orleans a few years back. We may wring our hands that something needed to have been done for Haiti to diminish the suffering BEFORE the earthquakes—but we did very little to advocate or ensure that would happen.
It’s like we’re concerned in Des Moines about those make-shift homeless shelters down by the river when we watch one of them burn because of an accident. We may believe that kind of living is truly dangerous. But that hasn’t usually led us to donate enough “more” money to the cause to help make a difference—to provide real shelter for those who need it.
In the great health-care debate, I can’t count how many times I’ve heard people say, “I don’t want to have to pay for smokers,” or “I don’t want to have to pay for obese people;” something to the effect of, “it just isn’t fair that I have to pay for someone else’s careless treatment of their bodies”—as if not smoking or not being overweight solves every health-care problem. And as a result, afraid of having to pay too much, we pay exponentially more because of catastrophic illness among those who have no ability to pay for the treatment we believe hospitals are obligated to offer. No one can tell us, really, how much that costs us!
My point is not simply: “take from the rich to give to the poor”—far from it! Jesus simply reminds the world that his anointing is directed at particular folks—those who are poor, oppressed, blind, and captive. And their “good news” is supposed to be good news for everyone—good news for all. It’s not simply about money changing hands; it’s about setting things right.
One of the stories we heard in the Holy Land came from Bishop Elias Chacour. Rather than think we are invited to simply focus on who has the money and redistributing it, Chacour offered through this story that human dignity was a far more compelling goal.
An older Palestinian man and his son were traveling with their donkey when they encountered an Israeli soldier at a checkpoint. The soldier, much younger than the elder man, decided that he was going to have some fun; and in addition to checking over their travel papers, he ordered the elder man to get off the donkey. When the elder man had complied, the soldier asked him to then kiss the backside of the donkey. Simply put, this is an insult; any of us would understand. The elder man refused. So the solider “encouraged the man’s compliance” by hitting him in the stomach and across the head with the butt of his rifle. Still, the elder man refused to be insulted. So the elder man’s son watched as the soldier hit and beat the man until he was injured, bleeding and near death; and in an attempt to end the suffering, the elder man chooses to kiss the backside of the donkey. And the soldier erupts in laughter.
The elder man’s son was watching, of course. He witnessed not just his father being beaten, but having every shred of dignity taken from him. He’s left to take his father home, but has lost all respect for him. And seeing that there is no hope of ever escaping, “held captive” now by hopelessness, the son chooses to do the only thing he believes can make a difference. So the next day, he straps explosives close to his body, passes through the same checkpoint alone, proceeds to the nearest market and blows himself up—trying to kill as many people as he can.
Someone shared with me earlier this week that Americans don’t know about poverty. “Poverty” for most of us is when you don’t have enough money and you have to rely on the food pantry, special assistance, or welfare. “Poverty” is when someone else needs to provide a “hand-out.” True “poverty,” however, is when there is no help to turn to—there’s just nothing.
Listen again to what Jesus proclaims:
Isn’t Jesus saying there’s help for those who have no hope? Isn’t Jesus saying that where there are economic discrepancies, there’s help? Isn’t Jesus saying that where people are held captive or imprisoned, there’s hope of something different? Isn’t Jesus saying that when people are “blind” to the possibilities of safe-keeping and loving-kindness, the Kingdom of God takes up for them?“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me 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.”
NO! That isn’t what Jesus is saying at all! Jesus is saying that “he” has been anointed. Jesus is saying that this—TOO—is what the Church is called to be, right? Good news to the poor; release to the captives; recovery of sight for the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Not what the Church gets, but what the Church is called to “hand-out” if you will. And thereby, it’s Jesus who challenges all of our values of our own success.
What if, instead of ordaining folks to balance the Church budget, we sought to ordain people to be leaders in ministry? What if, instead of just inviting people to give a few dollars toward a special cause, we sent people to make a difference—handing out food, building new homes. What if, instead of just expecting members to come to worship, we expected them to share worship experiences with others. What if, rather than expecting gifts to be shared with us—what if we saw ourselves as anointed, too?
What if we saw ourselves as “anointed,” too? And rather than being the “receivers” of the blessings of richness, what if we could be the providers of God’s kingdom promises?
Because Jesus says, “today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” Hear the difference?
--+ AMEN.
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