“A Place of Jubilee.”
Last week, if you remember, Jesus unrolled the scroll of Isaiah, found his place, and read: “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.” It seems, up to that point, the people were okay with what he said. It was what had sustained them for many years. It was what they had come to expect.
So, they were good with everything he said – any way, up to the part he left out. This reading of Isaiah 61 wasn’t new to them; they had heard it many times before. But when he didn’t go on after the words, “to proclaim the Lord’s favor.” they must have thought – so where is the rest – the part about God getting even with our enemies, or about making things right for a change; or about our special place in all this? Where is our double portion? They expected to hear about their deserved prosperity and their enemies finally getting what they had coming but Jesus instead talks about God’s helping the widow in Sidon and the Syrian named Naaman. What’s this talk about the Gentiles receiving God’s favor and attention, when it should be about them?
The people thought they had God all figured out. Isaiah, according to their understanding, had promised certain things and now Jesus is saying something all together different. So they are a little more than upset when Jesus talks about God’s care for foreigners, strangers and even enemies. How can he question their understanding of God. As far as they are concerned, he can go jump off a cliff – in fact they will even help. And as they are about to do just that, Luke said, “he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.”
For those who heard Jesus preach his first message, Isaiah was about what God was going to do for them, someday. For Jesus though, Isaiah was about what they were going to be doing for God starting right then. There was a definite disconnect? So they missed his point entirely. Jesus talked about “the year of the Lord” as a time of Jubilee, but that is not what they had in mind – especially if he meant the inclusion of those who were outsiders.
Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann suggests the people’s reaction was actually "a very “dramatic resistance to Jubilee." They were upset and did not want to hear about the Jubilee that would curb their accumulation. To them, Jesus was not just talking about “a kind thought or a good intention or a religious idea. He was talking about ‘their money’ and ‘their property’ being transferred to someone else, he was talking about the redistribution of wealth – and that was threatening.
Brueggemann points out that Jubliee – the idea that everything is God’s who is its rightful owner – is “the most difficult, most demanding, and most outrageous requirement of biblical faith.” Such an idea runs counter to peoples understanding that what they have is theirs to do with what they see fit. But it is that very understanding of property and money that the Bible questions most.
What if we, as some have suggested, let this text read us as Jesus did. Would we be transformed or know ourselves better? Would we be able to see the lines and circles we create to keep the insiders in and the outsiders out? And might we discover that even in our being who we are, God loves us even though we are neither pure nor perfect or know our need of God? These are the things that can change us.
Barbara Brown Taylor says that we need to be challenged and upset by the truth, by the "people sent to yank our chains and upset our equilibrium so we do not confuse our own ideas about God with God." Yet we don’t like that, do we? No matter how hard we try, we don't like "being told that our enemies are God's friends." The people who heard Jesus’ first sermon didn’t either.
This past month, I have discovered Parker Palmer, a Quaker theologian and author. Currently I am reading his book “Let Your Life Speak,” which is all about our natural vocation. In an equally thought provoking book, The Company of Strangers, he writes: "At the heart of any authentic religious experience is recognition that God's nature is too huge, God's movement too deep, ever to be comprehended by a single conception or point of view….God's truth is singular and eternal, but the forms in which we give it expression are as finite and fragile as clay pots, and we must always be ready to break them open on behalf of a larger vision of truth."
If that is true – that our understanding and experience of God is gained bit by bit as we break open, one by one, our fragile notions of God – and if this reading of our text is true – that Jesus’ coming is about our doing for God rather than the other way around – then might it also be true that as God’s people we are called out to the edge and through this church to a ministry to and with all of God's children? If that is so then, what might that ministry look like – if not compassion on our part to the Haiti-s of this world and a greater respect for those who are different from us. How large is our view of God's nature, how deep is our understanding of God’s love, and how wide is our grasp of God's embrace? We must ask ourselves, will we throw love like that from the cliff or will we seek it with all our heart, and let it take us out to the edges, where risk, and hope, and courage are found?
It is at that edge, I believe, we will become the church God is calling us to be. Parker Palmer writes, “The mission of the church is not to enlarge its membership, not to bring outsiders to accept its terms, but simply to love the world in every possible way - to love the world as God did and does… If we are able to love the world, that will be the best demonstration of the truth that the church has been given.”