​Luke 4:14-21

Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.

When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he 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. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."

We detoured a bit last week to talk about how we hear scripture differently if we read different translations, but before that we left off with Jesus just as he had been baptized by John in the murky waters of the Jordan.  This trip into the desert to hear and be baptized by John was the first we heard of Jesus since his birth and the visit of the Magi and a brief visit to the Temple when he was twelve.  Immediately following his baptism Jesus disappears again into the wilderness to fast and pray and try to figure out what had just happened to him.
 
Luke’s Gospel, which we are reading this year in Cycle C, is written as a series of vignettes.  Jesus episodes are strung together like beads, with little attention paid to what lies between the beads and we are simply left to wonder what happened in between.  Luke isn’t interested.  Jesus is born, but in this gospel there is no mention of visiting kings or of the flight to Egypt in Luke.  Luke does, however give us the one story we have of Jesus’ childhood years with the visit to Jerusalem and the Temple when Jesus was twelve – the “did you not know I must be about my father’s business?” story.  Luke’s is the only gospel to include this particular incident. 

Then there is the baptism by John and the temptation in the wilderness and, almost without further ado, Jesus suddenly appears with a full-blown healing and teaching ministry.  We are given two meager sentences - that’s it – to fill in this particular gap:  Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.

Since coming out of the wilderness, Jesus has apparently been traveling about teaching in various small town synagogues.  By the time we arrive at today’s story in Nazareth he has become a local phenom and crowds turn out to hear him.  Now, we do need to somewhat explain this word “crowds” in this context.  

We, who are used to arena events and media-fueled gatherings think of a crowd as maybe 100,000 people or so.  Nazareth, on the other hand, was a small country village of maybe a few hundred people, maximum, of whom maybe 20 or 30 routinely gathered in what passed as a synagogue for the reading and studying of scripture.  Add to this a few dozen more -- maybe -- drawn by interest in the new preacher’s current fame, and it is still a very small crowd gathered to hear Jesus give what many Bible scholars call his Inaugural Address, in which he lays out his calling and his plans to implement that calling.

He picks up the scroll and reads from the book of Isaiah, chapter 61 [Note: chapter designations are a fairly modern addition.  No one there that day would have thought of this as chapter 61.  That’s for our modern convenience.]  Anyway, Jesus reads from this section of Isaiah, and this is where it immediately gets interesting.  Isaiah 61 is all of one piece, 11 verses long, promising God’s restoration of the Hebrew people.  Of these 11 verses, Jesus reads aloud exactly one-and-one-half verses, then stops and rolls up the scroll again.  He actually stops reading in the middle of what we today recognize as a sentence.

Jesus ends with “to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor” but Isaiah actually had continued on with “...and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion.”  In Isaiah’s day, the Hebrews had been defeated and enslaved, and Isaiah was giving them God’s promise of a world of good things to come to make up for what they had suffered (even though Isaiah had earlier made it clear that they had brought their suffering on themselves).  Isaiah tells them they will not only be free – they will be rich and honored and those who oppress them now will be sorry one day.

Jesus gives the people of Nazareth none of this.  He gives them God’s good news and freedom from oppression – and tells them this is happening right now, right before their eyes – but he offers them no revenge against their oppressors.  He offers them justice and hope but no vengeance – and the men who listened to him would have both heard and noticed this omission.  Very likely, the vengeance thing would have been their favorite part of Isaiah 61 – and Jesus has left it out.  I doubt that was an accident.  And I doubt it went over real well with his listeners.  

They might have been impressed with the way he spoke but once they thought about it for a minute, they realized they didn’t like it one small bit.  We will get into that more next week, but you probably recall already that it did not end well.

What Jesus chooses to emphasize from the Isaiah reading is jubilee - the Hebrew practice of a complete forgiveness of debts which came around every 50 years.  Jubilee as practiced (in theory, at least - scholars are not entirely certain it ever actually was practiced) - anyway, it dealt primarily with property – land which had been sold for debt would revert back to the original owner at jubilee.  But Jesus offers here an expanded vision of jubilee – one which comes from God and in which all sins are freely forgiven by God.  The people could start all over again with a clean slate – with no past sins held against them any longer.  

This is the “year of the Lord’s favor.”  Justice for the poor; freedom for the enslaved; sight for the blind.  This, we would think, would be a pretty heady promise for a people who had for hundreds of years been subject to one oppressor or another.  It still sounds pretty heady to many of us today.  And yet, this promise has, for thousands of years, proved to be an extraordinarily hard sell.

We’ll leave this here right now and come back to it next week when we continue this reading in Luke and investigate the reaction of those who heard Jesus speaking that day.

Psalm 36:5-10 (NRSV)

Your steadfast love, O God,
   extends to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the clouds.
​
Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains,
   your judgments are like the great deep;
you save humans and animals alike, O God.

How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
All people may take refuge
   in the shadow of your wings.

They feast on the abundance of your house,
and you give them drink
   from the river of your delights.

For with you is the fountain of life;
   in your light we see light.

O continue your steadfast love
   to those who know you,
and your salvation to the upright of heart!

Luke 3:7-17, 21-22  (The Message)

When crowds of people came out for baptism because it was the popular thing to do, John exploded: “Brood of snakes!  What do you think you’re doing slithering down here to the river?  Do you think a little water on your snakeskins is going to deflect God’s judgment?  It’s your life that must change, not your skin.  And don’t think you can pull rank by claiming Abraham as ‘father.’  Being a child of Abraham is neither here nor there—children of Abraham are a dime a dozen.  God can make children from stones if he wants.  What counts is your life.  Is it green and blossoming?  Because if it’s deadwood, it goes on the fire.”

The crowd asked him, “Then what are we supposed to do?”  “If you have two coats, give one away,” he said.  “Do the same with your food.”

Tax men also came to be baptized and said, “Teacher, what should we do?”  He told them, “No more extortion—collect only what is required by law.”

Soldiers asked him, “And what should we do?”  He told them, “No shakedowns, no blackmail—and be content with your rations.”

The interest of the people by now was building.  They were all beginning to wonder, “Could this John be the Messiah?”

But John intervened: “I’m baptizing you here in the river.  The main character in this drama, to whom I’m a mere stagehand, will ignite the kingdom life, a fire, the Holy Spirit within you, changing you from the inside out.  He’s going to clean house—make a clean sweep of your lives.  He’ll place everything true in its proper place before God;  everything false he’ll put out with the trash to be burned.”.....

After all the people were baptized, Jesus was baptized.  As he was praying, the sky opened up and the Holy Spirit, like a dove descending, came down on him.  And along with the Spirit, a voice: “You are my Son, chosen and marked by my love, pride of my life.”

All who were there, watching and listening, were surprised at how well he spoke. But they also said, “Isn’t this Joseph’s son, the one we’ve known since he was a youngster?”

Jesus came out of John
as surely as he came out of Mary.
John was the desert soil
in which the flower of Jesus grew.
John was the voice in the wilderness
who taught Jesus to hear the voice from the sky.
John would push sinners beneath the water
and Jesus would resurrect them on the waves.
John was the fast
who prepared for Jesus, the feast.

No man ever less a shepherd than John --
yet loved by one.
If you are surprised that Jesus came from John,
imagine John’s prophetic puzzle
when the predicted “wrath to come” came
and he said, “Let’s eat!”
John expected an ax to the root of the tree
and instead he found a gardener hoeing around it.
He dreamt of a man with a winnowing fan and a fire
and along came a singing seed scatterer.
He welcomed wrathful verdicts,
then found a bridegroom on the bench.
When John said, “There is one among you
Whom you do not know,”
he spoke from experience. *

It is as big a mystery as the Christmas mystery of the incarnation. Why did he become human when he could have stayed God?  Why was he baptized with us when he could have stayed on the banks of the Jordan and supervised?  Why does he come to us where we are, over and over again, when he could save himself the grief, the pain, the death, by insisting that we come to him where he is?  

Because he loves us, that is why, and because he is, unbelievably, pleased with us, and because he has come to lead us through the waters of life and death into life eternal.  It has never been his style to shout directions to us from some safe place of his own.  He has always led us from within our midst, joining us in the water, in the mud, in the skin to show us how it is done. **

Isaiah 60:1-4a
Arise, shine; for your light has come,
   and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.
For darkness shall cover the earth,
   and thick darkness the peoples;
but the Lord will arise upon you,
   and his glory will appear over you.
Nations shall come to your light,
   and kings to the brightness of your dawn.
Lift up your eyes and look around.

Matthew 2:1-12
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?  For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage."  When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born.  They told him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:   
 
   'And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
     are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
   for from you shall come a ruler 
       who is to shepherd my people Israel.'"

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared.  Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage."  When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was.  When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.  On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage.  Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

Magi only journey at night
like the guarded secrets of dreams
and, at morning, always arrive from the East,
the rising sun at their backs,
haloing them in light.
You will have to shade your eyes
to watch them,
step by step,
approach you
with their request.

They are not wise in usual ways.
They cannot make a chair,
their soups are regrettable.
It is conjunctions
symmetries
balances
that interest them.
Heaven shakes, earth quakes.
As above, so below. 
A star moves across the sky
and they are in the saddle
convinced an earth child
has yanked a string.
They come from a country of kites.

They also puzzle prophecies,
living in perpetual pregnancy,
awaiting the births of the predicted.
They unroll ancient parchments
to find new babies,
then read the wrinkles of the newborn
as testimonies of the past promises.
They are not your average observers.

That is why they have come to you--
why they come to us all.
Your replacement has been born.
They need your help
to tell them
where
they can find the child.
Lost in higher logic,
they will not see you blanch
or notice you are troubled.
They want to teach you the lost art of homage,
how freeing it is to be prostrated before promise.
They are the strangers
who have come to tell you
the truth
you have forgotten.

Do not try to trick them,
coaxing from their enthusiasm
murderous information.
It will not work.
Wise Men always go home
by another route.
You will end
by slaughtering hope
and you will not see
the fleeing child, your child,
reach for their gifts.* 

1 Chronicles 29:10-13

David blessed God in full view of the entire congregation:

Blessed are you, God of Israel, our father
    from of old and forever.
To you, O God, belong the greatness and the might,
    the glory, the victory, the majesty, the splendor;
Yes! Everything in heaven, everything on earth;
    the kingdom all yours! You’ve raised yourself high over all.
Riches and glory come from you,
    you’re ruler over all;
You hold strength and power in the palm of your hand
    to build up and strengthen all.
And here we are, O God, our God, giving thanks to you,
    praising your splendid Name.

Leviticus 19:33-34
“When a foreigner lives with you in your land, don’t take advantage of him. Treat the foreigner the same as a native. Love him like one of your own. Remember that you were once foreigners in Egypt. I am God, your God.

I wish there was a website we could turn to called, "What it means, What is True, and What to do."  Lots of very tense religious people are going to insist that their Scripture answers all these questions.

That's nice.

Lots of them will try to hustle us into joining them in Vengeance World.  As if that had just been so helpful before, right?

So where do we even begin today?  What do we do when it feels like we are all doomed, and the future will only be worse, and we can't remember anything that ever helped us come through?  From high school philosophy, I remember that Francis Bacon wrote, "'What is Truth?' asked jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an answer."  It seemed the ultimate truth, at sixteen years old.

But I think we can do better than that.  We have shards of truth, and we can gather them up, bits of broken mosaic tile that shine.

We know that this is a very dangerous place, that we are an extremely vulnerable species, that Cain is still killing Abel.

We know that "Why" is not a useful question; and "Figure it out" is not a good slogan. 

We know that the poor, the innocent, babies and the very old, always bear the brunt.

So where do we find grace and light? If you mean right now, the answer is Nowhere.  It's like after a child dies.  Grace always does bat last, and the light always overcomes the darkness--always, historically.  But not necessarily later the same day, or tomorrow, after lunch.  Wendell Berry told me 25 years ago, in Advent, the darkest shortest days of winter, "It gets darker and darker and darker, and then Jesus is born."  But it is only November 13!  It gets even darker.

What is the answer? Gandhi is almost always the answer.  Jesus's love for the poor and refugees is the answer.  Adding a bit of light and warmth to these cold dark days doesn't hurt.  Candles are beautiful and bring a soupçon of solace to our souls.  People living on the streets could really use your old blankets and jackets.

Grace will always show up in the helpers, as Mr. Rogers' mother used to tell him in times of tragedy.  But today, right now, if you have a nice bumper sticker that explains or makes sense of what happens in Paris, it's probably best if you keep that to yourself.  It is definitely best that you not share it with me.  It will cause me to get a tic in my eye and will guarantee that the next time I see you, I will run for my cute little life.  Everyone in his or her right mind will.  So how do we even know truth, in the midst of b.s. and lies?

What is true for me is that [in 2012]  the shootings at Sandy Hook were the actual end of the world, evil or at least the most extreme mental illness made visible. There were no answers that day, the next day, the day after that.  Well, you could go to certain web sites and Twitter posts, and I will not name names, and be told how stupid you were not to see that there was only one appropriate truth. Reload!  But again, that was not helpful.

What was helpful was that we stuck together in our horror, grief, anxiety and cluelessness.  We grieved, we feared, we despaired, and raged, prayed; we reached out for any help at all; and these were appropriate responses.  I am going to recommend that we do that today, and tomorrow.  Wounds and trauma revealed were healed; eventually.

Some of us couldn't eat at all, someone of us binged, some of us couldn't turn off the TV, some of us couldn't turn it on.  Those were all appropriate.  We felt like shit, and let some time pass, talked and stuck together.  And day by day, we came through.

Talking and sticking together was the answer.  It honest to God was.  We were gentler, more patient and kind with each other.  If people are patient and kind, that's a lot.  It means something of the spirit is at work.  For me, that is grace made visible.  It doesn't come immediately, and it doesn't come naturally.  What comes naturally is, Shoot the mo-fos.  So when we could, after Sandy Hook, we paused, breathed, sighed, gasped at the rising numbers.  Nothing changed legally, not one word, but we came through. Hearts were healed, imperfectly.  People walked, lived fully, and even danced again, after bad psychic fractures that did not heal quite right, and that still hurt some days.

We will again, but it takes time.  I so hate this!  Hate this, hate this, hate this, and do not agree to this, but have no alternative, because it is Truth: it will take time.  Today, we try to keep the patient comfortable--ourselves, our beloveds, the poor.
We're at the beginning of human and personal evolution.  Whole parts of the world don't even think women are people.

So after an appropriate time of being stunned, in despair, we show up.  Maybe we ask God for help.  We do the next right thing.  We buy or cook a bunch of food for the local homeless.  We return phone calls, library books, smiles.  We make eye contact with others, and we go to the market and flirt with old or scary unusual people who seem lonely.  This is a blessed sacrament.  Tom Weston taught me decades ago that in the face of human tragedy, we go around the neighborhood and pick up litter, even though there will be more tomorrow.  It is another blessed sacrament.  We take the action and the insight will follow: that we are basically powerless, but we are not helpless.

I have no answers but know one last thing that is true: More will be revealed.  And that what is true is that all is change.  Things are much wilder, weirder, richer, and more profound than I am comfortable with.  The paradox is that in the reality of this, we discover that in the smallest moments of amazement, at our own crabby stamina, at kindness, to lonely people who worry us, and attention, at weeping willow turning from green to gold to red, and amazement, we will be saved.


                                                                                       (c) Anne Lamott 2015

Mark 12:28-34a

One of the religion scholars came up.  Hearing the lively exchanges of question and answer and seeing how sharp Jesus was in his answers, he put in his question:  “Which is most important of all the commandments?”

Jesus said, “The first in importance is, ‘Listen, Israel: The Lord your God is one;  so love the Lord God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence and energy.’  And here is the second:  ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.’  There is no other commandment that ranks with these.”

The religion scholar said,  “A wonderful answer, Teacher!  So lucid and accurate—that God is one and there is no other.  And loving him with all passion and intelligence and energy, and loving others as well as you love yourself.  Why, that’s better than all offerings and sacrifices put together!”

When Jesus realized how insightful he was, he said, “You’re almost there, right on the border of God’s kingdom.”

Leviticus 19:18: You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself:  I am the Lord.

Job 38:1-11
And now, finally, God answered Job from the eye of a violent storm. He said:
“Why do you confuse the issue?
   Why do you talk without knowing what you’re talking about?
Pull yourself together, Job!
   Up on your feet! Stand tall!
I have some questions for you,
   and I want some straight answers.
Where were you when I created the earth?
   Tell me, since you know so much!
Who decided on its size? Certainly you’ll know that!
   Who came up with the blueprints and measurements?
How was its foundation poured,
   and who set the cornerstone,
While the morning stars sang in chorus
   and all the angels shouted praise?
And who took charge of the ocean
   when it gushed forth like a baby from the womb?
That was me! I wrapped it in soft clouds,
   and tucked it in safely at night.
Then I made a playpen for it,
   strong boundaries so it couldn’t run loose,
And said, ‘Stay here, this is your place.
   Your wild tantrums are confined to this place.’

Exodus 3:1-5 .....
Moses was shepherding the flock of Jethro, his father-in-law, the priest of Midian. He led the flock to the west end of the wilderness and came to the mountain of God, Horeb. The angel of God appeared to him in flames of fire blazing out of the middle of a bush. He looked. The bush was blazing away but it didn’t burn up.

Moses said, “What’s going on here? I can’t believe this!  Amazing!  Why doesn’t the bush burn up?”

God saw that he had stopped to look. God called to him from out of the bush, “Moses! Moses!”

He said, “Yes? I’m right here!”

God said, “Don’t come any closer.  Remove your sandals from your feet.  You’re standing on holy ground.”