Revelation of the Son of God: Going Home

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.” All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, “Is not this Joseph’s son?” He said to them, “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say, ‘Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.’” And he said, “Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s hometown. But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.” When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way. --Luke 4:14-30 (NRSV)

It’s hard to go home, isn’t it? 

I had a great aunt named Delores. She was my Grandma Gertie’s sister. Gertrude, or Gertie as she was most often called, was my maternal grandmother. Both of them had grown up on a farm, not more than 30 miles away from where I grew up. When my grandmother, who was older, graduated from high school and married my grandfather, well, they began to farm not more than 10 miles away from where all of them had grown up.

But, my Aunt Delores - she was different. After high school, she married my uncle and they moved to California, settling in the Bay Area. She was the first in her generation to move away from home and from the small, insular community in which most of them remained.

I’ll never forget a trip my Aunt Delores made back to our hometown in South Dakota. I think I was about 10 or 11 at the time. She stayed at my grandma’s house. My mom and sister and I went for a visit - it wasn’t often that she returned home. Somehow the conversation during that visit turned to Native Americans. I’ve mentioned to you before, I think, that the area where we lived was in between two reservations - the Cheyenne southwest of us and the Sioux northeast of us. Living beside Native Americans was a normal thing for us in our small town. Not that we really knew any of them, but they were present.

So, as we sat in my grandma’s living room, the conversation changed to the topic of our Native American neighbors. It’s fair to say, I think, that moving away from home can give one a broader perspective. Certainly, my Aunt Delores believed she had such a perspective. She started to lecture my grandmother on how badly the Native Americans in our small town were treated. I could see my grandmother get more perturbed and angry. And, although it was not typical for her to hold anything back, that day she did. Soon she got up to go into the kitchen. I followed her in there. When we got there, she turned to me and said, “That Delores! Just because she lives in California she thinks she knows everything.” 

It’s hard to go home, isn’t it? 

It’s kind of what Jesus was experiencing in our story today. He’d been raised in Nazareth most of his 30 or so years. He’d been away a little bit, going to the Jordan to be baptized. Then, tempted in the wilderness. Even, as our story hints, doing a little ministry away from home. Healing people. 

But, as the story opens, Jesus is now back in Nazareth, his home town. And, as he’s done so many times before, he goes to the synagogue - this public place of scripture reading and discussion, open to everyone. Where children were taught, where the community gathered, where the administration of justice might even happen. 

Jesus was familiar with the synagogue, it’s practice, and the people gathered there. They were familiar with him. So, it wasn’t unusual or unexpected when, as the hometown son returning, he was given the scroll of Isaiah to read. As he took his time unrolling and rolling the scroll, looking for chapter 61 - the passage we read last month - the people waited in anticipation. Then, finding it, Jesus began to read.

I remember when we studied this same passage from Isaiah late last year. This passage that took us back to the Levitical command for a jubilee year - that 50th year when the land was to lie fallow and everyone was to experience release from bondage, whether from debt or landlessness or incarceration. A command that seemed, from our 21st century eyes, completely impractical and, perhaps, even ridiculous.

But it is this text in Isaiah that Jesus chooses to read in his first ministry appearance in Luke’s gospel. What is even more astonishing was what Jesus did when he finished. He rolled the scroll back up. Gave it to the attendant. Sat down, as was the custom in that time for preaching. And he began to speak. Not to explain the text. But to make a claim. A claim of good news: that, in their presence, in that moment, in that place, this scripture was being fulfilled. In him. 

Our text tells us that the people marveled. They were amazed. Perhaps, it was because they knew him as a child or teenager. Perhaps it was because they knew his father, Joseph. Or perhaps it was because they could sense it. That there, in their midst, was the long-promised One, the Anointed One. 

But, things quickly took a turn. Because, these hometown folk have expectations. They believe that because Jesus is one of them, they will be the first to experience and benefit from Jesus’ power. When he quickly dispels them of this notion. When he tells them that the good news of God’s freedom and release is not just for them, but for everyone. When Jesus explains to them the radical inclusiveness of God’s reign, they get angry. And mob-like. Because they are ready for deliverance, but they are not ready to share deliverance. Good news, huh? 

But, no one said that good news would be easy. Because the good news that Jesus preaches is about release from those things that bind us, like turning a blind eye to the mob led by white supremacists and Neo-Nazis and conspiracy theorists, many who exist in our own country under the banner of Christianity. Or, conversely, the hatred we feel for that mob, who, even though they should reckon with the consequences of their actions, are still human beings, created by God. In spite of hard hearts and violent mobs, Jesus still shows up with good news. Whether or not it is heard.

We are at a tipping point in our nation. A tipping point that it seems could easily swing in one direction or another. We are placed in the midst of this, just as the people of Nazareth were. In the midst of a decision. Where will you stand in the story? Will you celebrate the wideness of God’s mercy? Or will you trade God’s good news of release for a good news of your own design?

In Jesus, the scripture is fulfilled. And ready or not, come cliff or come cross, it will not be stopped. Jesus will lead us on a path that will take us, first, to the darkness of the tomb. And then, and only then, to the mountaintop of resurrection. Going home will never be the same. Amen.

Preached Sunday, January 17, 2020, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Goshen, KY, and Third Lutheran, Louisville, KY.

Second Sunday after Epiphany

Readings: Luke 4:14-30, Psalm 146

 

God Works Through Us: Turning the World Upside Down

Grace to you and peace, from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Our lectionary makes a big leap today. Last week, we heard in Acts chapter 3 the story of Peter and John, who, after receiving the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, began their task of sharing the good news.

Today, we jump 14 chapters in Acts, to the 17th chapter. The chapters in-between describe the spread of the Jesus movement from Jerusalem into Samaria and Asia Minor. This geographic movement corresponds with a shift in audience, as well, from a Jewish mission to one that becomes predominantly Gentile. This movement toward the Gentiles in mission is a result of God’s direct guidance. It is not just the story of how the known world was eventually converted to Christianity. But, it is particularly about how the early church had to push beyond its own boundaries. To set aside racism and sexism to become faith to the gospel message. One contemporary theologian says it best: The church is being made to convert, even as it seeks converts.

Our focus today in Acts chapter 17 reading turns to Paul. If you know anything about him, you know that his birth name was Saul. He was both Jewish and a Roman citizen. Trained as a Pharisee, a legal expert in the Torah. We first meet him in Acts 7, where he is identified as a persecutor of the earliest followers of Jesus. But, perhaps the most famous story of Paul we find in Acts 9, where we hear of his conversion from Saul the Persecutor to Paul the Christian missionary. On the road to Damascus, Jesus appears to Paul and then sends him. Eventually, he will travel throughout the Roman empire on three different missionary journeys. It was on his second missionary journey that he arrived in Thessalonica, which is where we find our story located today. 

After Paul and Silas had passed through Amphipolis and Apollonia, they came to Thessalonica, where there was a synagogue of the Jews. And Paul went in, as was his custom, and on three sabbath days argued with them from the scriptures, explaining and proving that it was necessary for the Messiah to suffer and to rise from the dead, and saying, “This is the Messiah, Jesus whom I am proclaiming to you.” Some of them were persuaded and joined Paul and Silas, as did a great many of the devout Greeks and not a few of the leading women. But the Jews became jealous, and with the help of some ruffians in the marketplaces they formed a mob and set the city in an uproar. While they were searching for Paul and Silas to bring them out to the assembly, they attacked Jason’s house. When they could not find them, they dragged Jason and some believers before the city authorities, shouting, “These people who have been turning the world upside down have come here also, and Jason has entertained them as guests. They are all acting contrary to the decrees of the emperor, saying that there is another king named Jesus.” The people and the city officials were disturbed when they heard this, and after they had taken bail from Jason and the others, they let them go. --Acts 17:1-9 (NRSV)

Paul and Silas, his partner, travel from Phillippi to Thessolonica, located in Macedonia. Which is present-day Greece. Thessolonica was one of the major cities of the Roman Empire, located on the Egnatian Way, which was the main road that connected the entire eastern part of the Roman Empire with its capital city, Rome. It was an important military and commercial port. Early on, in return for its support for the Roman empire, it had been declared a free city. So, its relationship with Rome and especially Roman patronage of the city was very important.

Jews, during this time, had spread from Jerusalem throughout the empire. Wherever they went, continued to practice their faith and to gather in synagogues. This was the case in Thessalonica. So, when Paul and Silas arrive, it was natural and their custom to go to the synagogue.

Our text says that, for three Sabbaths - or three weeks - they remained at the synagogue, arguing. Really more like being in dialogue with those in attendance, trying to explain and to convince them that the Jews had been misinterpreting scripture, that Jesus was the Messiah. And that the Messiah the Jews expected was not who this Jesus was.

In this short time, Paul and Silas have some small success. A few of the Jews, some of the devout Gentile Greeks and a few prominent women are convinced. 

But, imagine if someone came into our church, into our worship, week after week, trying to convince us that our entire belief system was wrong. That we had misinterpreted Scripture. That, this Lutheran thing was all wrong. Well, you can imagine what might happen.

It was no different in the synagogue in Thessalonica. The Jews became angry. Then they gathered together some thugs hanging out in the local market. And formed a mob, making a huge uproar in the city. They went to the home of Jason, one of Paul’s converts who had taken Paul and Silas in. They went to his house to find Paul and Silas. And when they couldn’t find them, they dragged Jason out of his own house and took him to the local authorities, shouting: “These people. They are turning the world upside down!”

These people! They are turning the world upside down! 

But, isn’t this what the good news of Jesus Christ does? Turn everything upside down? When we least expect it. Or sometimes when we least want it. The good news in Jesus begins to work through the power of the Holy Spirit. And, then, look out! Everything changes! 

Paul and Silas were able to escape. And, in time, Paul would write a series of letters to this upstart community in Thessalonica. The first of these letters, likely the oldest text in the New Testament, written only 10-20 years after Jesus’ ascension, is a testament to this young community of Jesus’ followers. To their faith. And their love. And their hope. 

We read from 1st Thessalonians, the first chapter.

Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy,

To the church of the Thessalonians in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ:

Grace to you and peace.

We always give thanks to God for all of you and mention you in our prayers, constantly remembering before our God and Father your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. For we know, brothers and sisters beloved by God, that he has chosen you, because our message of the gospel came to you not in word only, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction; just as you know what kind of persons we proved to be among you for your sake. And you became imitators of us and of the Lord, for in spite of persecution you received the word with joy inspired by the Holy Spirit, so that you became an example to all the believers in Macedonia and in Achaia. For the word of the Lord has sounded forth from you not only in Macedonia and Achaia, but in every place your faith in God has become known, so that we have no need to speak about it. For the people of those regions report about us what kind of welcome we had among you, and how you turned to God from idols, to serve a living and true God, and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead—Jesus, who rescues us from the wrath that is coming. --1 Thessalonians 1:1-10 (NRSV)

It may feel, in this moment, that we, like the early community in Thessalonians are being persecuted. We are experiencing suffering and loss. Deeply. Throughout the world. Whether it is health-related, economic, or the fear and anxiety we feel that keeps us from sleeping at night, so many are suffering in our world today.

Yet, like the church in Thessalonica, we continue to do our work of faith. Our labor of love. To live steadfastly in hope. To turn this dark world upside down. All in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. We, like the church in Thessalonica, are an example to our own community of faith, love, and hope. Known because we serve a living and a true God. And our neighbors as ourselves.

This past Wednesday, we received a text message from one of our pantry members that attests to this. I’d like to share it with you now. “OMGosh! Just when I think you guys couldn’t possibly do more for us, you all go on and continue the drive thru pantry, not only in masks, but in the pouring rain! How can I begin to thank all of you for this? I hope you know how much it means. You all make a world of difference in so many ppl’s lives. Thank you. ❤️”

It makes a difference, what we do in our little church. Whether we are apart from each other or not, what we do as a community of faith in our little area of Kentucky matters. What we do as followers of Christ in our own little corner of the world matters. Just as the community of faith in Thessalonica and what they did mattered. 

Because this is who we are and who we are to be, as people of a resurrected Jesus. Even in the midst of suffering. Even in the midst of fear and darkness. Even in the midst of a grieving world, we do what matters. We turn the world upside down in a way that matters. We do this because what Jesus did matters. 

So, I give thanks to God for all of you and mention you in my prayers, constantly remembering before our God and Father your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. May you continue to be an example to all the believers. That through you, our Lord Jesus Christ might be made known. Amen.

Preached May 3, 2020, Online with the community of Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Easter 4
Readings: Acts 17:1-9, 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10; Mark 13:9-11; Psalm 16

Invitation to Abundant Life: In Jesus (Part 1)

Grace and peace to you from our Savior Jesus, the Messiah, who is Christ, the Lord. Amen.

A couple of weeks ago, when we heard the story of Nicodemus, I mentioned a commentary by Lindsey Trozzo, a professor of biblical ethics and rhetoric at Baylor University. In it, she suggested thinking of the Gospel of John as a multi-act play or a TV mini-series. As each chapter unfolds, we hear and see a new interaction. Sometimes it’s between Jesus and his disciples. Sometimes it's between Jesus and the Jewish leadership. Sometimes, as in last week’s lesson, it’s between Jesus and someone we might consider an outcast. With each interaction, with each encounter, it's as though a new act or a new episode begins. Each building one upon the other. Each part of a plot line that will, I suspect, eventually reach a turning point--a climax in theatre language--a point of great tension.

Today’s lesson offers us one more act from the Gospel of John. Another episode in the mini-series. An episode in seven scenes. 

Scene 1 (Read John 9:1-7). Our first scene opens upon Jesus, a blind man, and the disciples. Jesus sees the man. Blind from birth. A man who has never had sight. Not once seen a sunrise. Not once seen a wildflower. Not once seen the face of someone he loved.

Jesus sees him, though. The disciples do, too. But their focus isn’t on him, but on his sin. “Who sinned, Jesus? Was it him? Or his parents? Who sinned that he was born blind?” It’s an assumption made by them. That anyone with or stricken by a physical ailment or disability must be suffering because of sin--whether their own or that of a previous generation. It’s an assumption we still make today, don’t we? Of others. Sometimes, of ourselves. “What did I do wrong, God, to deserve this cancer?” we might ask ourselves.

But as we learned last week, sin, in John, isn’t a moral category. In John, sin is a category of relationship. And for this man--this blind man--his disability is an opportunity for God’s work to be revealed in him. An opportunity for relationship--for relationship with God present in the Word made flesh. Right there in front of him.

So, Jesus takes the dust of the earth. And with the dust and with his saliva, Jesus makes mud and rubs it onto his eyes. He sends him to wash. He does. And then he returns. With full eyesight.

Do you notice how the man listens to Jesus’ voice and follows his direction? Do you notice how the same dust that God used to create new life in Genesis gives this man new life, too? 

Scene 2 (Read John 9:8-12). As our second scene opens, Jesus and the disciples are no longer present. The man is, though. The man who is no longer blind. And with him a variety of people, moving in and out of the scene. Notice that all of the verbs in this scene are in the present tense. They describe what had been his daily reality.  Sitting. Begging. Every day and all day, fully dependent on others for his own survival. 

His neighbors cross-examine him. They ask how he regained his sight. “The man called Jesus,” he says. Do you notice here how he knows Jesus’ name?

What’s the first thing you do when you meet someone for the very first time? You ask their name. Knowing someone’s name is the first step of entering into relationship, isn’t it? “The man called Jesus,” he says. He now knows Jesus. The man.

But the man who now sees does not yet know Jesus, the divine. Not yet, at least.

Scene 3 (Read John 9:13-17). “He is a prophet.” This man, now called “formerly blind,” is truly beginning to see. As our scene develops, we watch the relationship grow and new understanding dawning.  The blind man is now beginning to know Jesus, the divine. And to witness to him. 
It’s not clear in our text whether he has even yet actually seen Jesus. He heard his voice and followed his request. Yet, even though Jesus is not physically present in this scene, the man’s “sight”--his spiritual eyesight is growing. Especially as he begins to witness to Jesus’ presence in his life.

In contrast, the Pharisees continue in their own spiritual blindness. “On a Sabbath!” They proclaim, stuck in their religious rules. Speaking of Jesus, they ask, “How can a man who is a sinner perform such signs?” How ironic it is that they, and not the formerly blind man, are the ones who lack true sight! 

How is your eyesight lately?

Scene 4 (Read John 9:18-23). In our fourth scene, the Jewish leaders don’t believe him at first--that he was ever blind. It is his parents who confirm this. “He was born blind.” When they are asked how his sight has been restored, they point back to their son. They do this, because they are afraid--afraid that if they say that Jesus has done this--that the Messiah has done this--they will be banished from the synagogue and, with it, from their entire social, religious and communal life.  
Do you recall, when we first began reading this gospel, who John’s audience was? The gospel was written for a group of believers who, because they chose to follow Jesus, had been cast out of the synagogue. Who chose to leave their families for good. Who in faith chose to separate themselves from every aspect of their lives. To follow Jesus.

I wonder if we would make the same choice.

Scene 5 (Read John 9:24-34). This second dialogue between the blind man and the Pharisees is longer. It will be the last. They ask him the same questions, as though he will give different answers. They lack eyesight. They don’t hear him witness to them.  

In his testimony, the blind man names it. It takes hearing. And sight. He calls out their deafness and their blindness to the reality that God--that their God, the God of Moses--is the one who has done this. The one who is revealing Godself in a whole new way. If only they would look and listen.

They don’t. They cast him out of the synagogue.

Scene 5 (Read John 9:35-38). As our next scene opens, Jesus, who has been absent since the healing, hears that the man has been cast out of the synagogue. He searches for him as the Good Shepherd searches for his sheep. He finds him. And when he does, Jesus asks him, “Do you believe? Do you believe in the Son of Man?” 

“Who is this Son of Man?” the blind man asks. We’ve heard this question from the beginning of the Gospel. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Nathaniel asked. “How can this be?” Nicodemus asked. “Can he be the one?” the Samaritan woman wonders.  Who is Jesus? 

“I AM.” In these words, Jesus fully reveals himself to the man, just as God revealed himself to Moses. What else is there to say, but “I believe!” 

This is what true relationship with Jesus looks like. What full recognition of Jesus is. It is an individual and gradual process that happens in dialogue with God. And, yes, sometimes even in confrontation. 

When we say, “Lord, I believe,” we are not only confessing our faith. Like the blind man, we are claiming our relationship with Jesus. We are stepping right into the arms of Jesus, our Good Shepherd. Who hears us. And sees us. And loves us. Just as we are.

I bet you thought it was over, didn’t you. That this episode had reached its climax with the blind man’s confession of faith and claim of relationship. But there is a twist in this plot.

Scene 6 (Read John 9:39-40). “I came into this world for judgment.” Jesus says. What? What happened to his words in John 3:17, “God did not send the Son in the world to condemn the world…”?

Judgment in John is not an outward condemnation. It is self-condemnation. Not believing in Jesus brings judgment upon oneself. It isn’t judgment from Jesus or from God. But self-imposed judgment. It is about how we respond to Jesus as the Word made flesh. It is that moment of judgment--that moment of crisis--for everyone who has an encounter with Jesus. A moment that demands a response.

This week, with Ash Wednesday, we begin the season of Lent. Lent is a time for us to step back a bit. To check our hearing and our seeing. To check our response to Jesus. To see how we are living as his disciples. To see how we are witnessing to him. 

“I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.” 

“Surely we are not blind, are we?” the Pharisees asked. We ask.

How does Jesus respond to them? To us? The answer will come in our seventh and final scene. To be continued on Ash Wednesday. Be sure and tune in. Amen.

Preached February 11, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church.
Transfiguration Sunday
Readings: Psalm 27:1-4, John 9:1-40.