Luke 4:21-30 On Being a Just Community

3 Feb.  Luke 4:21-30       On Being a Just Community

Jesus’ prophetic ministry challenged his community.  In a community that believed so strongly in a God that was so far “above the fray,” that His name could not be pronounced, words that announced that the scripture had been fulfilled in their hearing had to have been presumptuous.  In a community used to following a rhythm of prayer and worship that was constant, predictable and respectful of tradition, Jesus’ words had to have shaken their sure foundation.  And in a community that knew it was the chosen people of God, Jesus’ words about God sending prophets of Israel to minister to Gentiles had to be incendiary.    In short, Jesus threatened what Harold Garfinkle would describe some 2000 years later as “a moral order defined by the rule-governed activities of everyday life.”  According to Garfinkle, folks will do what it takes to restore their sense of moral order -- justice is usually not part of that restoration.

Today’s gospel reminds us that striving for justice is not only “out there,” but also “in here” in the midst of our own community.  How are we doing here at St. Andrew’s?  Are we truly a Just place to be? Do we have any circled wagons within which we are defending our truth against all comers?  Are we being intentional about creating room for others’ experience or input?  Are we creating a community in which people know one another well and who tell one another the truth in love?  How are we doing at hanging our certainty at the door and choosing to engage the questions?  How are we doing at treating each other as colleagues who disagree rather than as adversaries?  How are we doing at holding up our own assumptions for critical examination?   And most importantly, what are we teaching our community to do with those who don't agree with us?  Jesus recognized the difficulty of being a prophet in the community in which he was raised. We too need to be careful who we lead to the cliff only to have them slip away.

27 Jan - Luke 4:14-21

27 Jan.  Luke 4:14-21      Our Mission Statement

Consulting with organizations to think clearly about their purpose, their reason for being at this moment in history, and then figuring out how to articulate that purpose in a clear, concise way has provided me with a good income over the years. The first question I always ask is, "Does your current mission statement still work? Does it still clearly and concisely articulate your reason for being at this moment in history?"

For you and me as members of the Body of Christ, the answer to that question is a resounding, “yes.” In today’s gospel, Jesus offers us his Mission Statement - “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because God 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, and to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor” Because we are the Body of Christ, it’s the mission we are also called to engage. We have been chosen, anointed, and given the gifts to care about, and advocate for, the poor and the marginalized in our society.

Continually calling people to the mission of the organization is a fundamental principle in all leadership development. What if we took that principle seriously? What if, at the Peace, we would turn to one or two people and, prayerfully and with eye contact, say, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon you, because God has anointed you to bring good news to the poor?" What if we were dismissed from worship with the words, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon you, because God has anointed you to bring good news to the poor... He has sent you to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor?" Most importantly, what if we put that mission on our own bathroom mirror, to see at the beginning of our day as we make decisions throughout our day? "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because God 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, and to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."

Luke 3:15-17, 21-22: "He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire."

John answered all of them by saying, "I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire."

Luke's gospel asks us to see the connection between baptism and the fearless prophetic calling of John the Baptist. John was so outspoken and so effective in challenging the ruling powers of his society that they saw his growing influence as a threat. In fact, the verses omitted from the middle of today's lesson (Luke 3:18-20) tell us that Herod decided to silence John, shutting off his dangerous truth-telling by locking him up in prison. Later, of course, Herod would have him killed. In this context, just think how frightened people like Herod must have been by John's promise that he would be followed by a much more powerful prophet, one whose followers would be baptized not only with water, but with the Holy Spirit and fire.

Clearly there was something revolutionary about baptism at that time– and there still is, if we stop to think about it. Our baptismal vows demand that we take sides, pledging allegiance to Christ's Lordship above the claims of all other leaders and power structures. When we promise to "follow and obey Him as our Lord" and to "put our whole trust in His grace and love," we commit ourselves to follow in His dangerous footsteps (and those of John the Baptist), speaking out against injustice even if that puts us at odds with the powers-that-be– or with our own families, friends, and neighbors. We can do this with courage, for we have been "sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ's own forever."

Matthew 2:1-12-- Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh

A joke making the rounds a few years ago suggested that if the wise men had been wise women, they would have known enough about childbirth to provide dinner for Mary and Joseph, wash the dishes, and sweep the stable. And they would have brought useful baby presents– diapers and baby blankets, for example– rather than the strange, exotic gifts mentioned in Matthew's gospel.

But were the gifts of the wise men really so useless to the baby Jesus and his parents? In the January 2013 issue of Sojourners, Martin L. Smith cites a medieval interpretation attributed to St. Bernard which assigns a surprisingly practical purpose to each gift: the gold was to relieve the family's poverty; the incense, to alleviate the stench and bad air of the stable; and the myrrh, to soothe the child's skin and drive away vermin. In other words, Smith explains, "the Magi's gifts are not exotic luxuries, but practical relief aid." The holy family is living as many poor peasants still do today-- in cramped quarters shared with animals and their excrement. The baby's health is at risk in these unsanitary conditions, and he "has a rash because the manger is crawling with fleas."

As Smith points out, this Epiphany story urges us to see Christ's kinship with the millions of poor children today whose lives are at risk because our social order is not just enough – even 2000 years later– to meet the basic human needs of every family for economic sufficiency, adequate and sanitary housing, and basic health services.