Unrolling the Scroll Part II – Are You Sure? January 31, 2016 Jeremiah 1:5-10, Luke 4:22-30

Jeremiah 1:5-10 Now the word of God came to me saying, "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations."  Then I said, "Ah, God! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy." But God said to me, "Do not say, 'I am only a boy'; for you shall go to all to whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you." Then God touched my mouth; and said to me, "Now I have put my words in your mouth. See, today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms, to pluck up and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant."

Luke 4:22-30 All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his lips. “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” they asked. Jesus said to them, “Surely you will quote this proverb to me: ‘Physician, heal yourself!’ And you will tell me, ‘Do here in your hometown what we have heard that you did in Capernaum.’”

“Truly I tell you,” he continued, “no prophet is accepted in his hometown. I assure you that there were many widows in Israel in Elijah’s time, when the sky was shut for three and a half years and there was a severe famine throughout the land. Yet Elijah was not sent to any of them, but to a widow in Zarephath in the region of Sidon. And there were many in Israel with leprosy in the time of Elisha the prophet, yet not one of them was cleansed—only Naaman the Syrian.”

All the people in the synagogue were furious when they heard this. They got up, drove him out of the town, and took him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him off the cliff. But he walked right through the crowd and went on his way.

So last week we left off Jesus reading in the synagogue from the scroll of Isaiah, declaring a call. The people were impressed – the hometown boy sounded really good. They couldn’t get over the fact that Mary and Joseph’s son, brother of James and Joses – whose sisters and family were all sitting there in the synagogue, could be so strong and compelling.

But he was so much more than they saw in him – as prophets usually are – and as Jesus pointed out, never recognised in their home church. The passage from Jeremiah sets this up in a fascinating way. The word of God came to Jeremiah, saying “I knew you before you were born.” Then we get these words – consecrated, appointed. Consecrated also means sanctified; appointed can also mean ordained. Jeremiah protests, saying he is only a boy. God’s response is that Jeremiah will go where he is sent, speak the words given to him – and then God says “Don’t be afraid of them, I will be with you to ensure you are looked after.”

So, Jeremiah is ordained, consecrated, dedicated, sanctified – even before he was born – and as a youth is called. He was given a gift. God called him out. Jeremiah tried to avoid the call, but God’s answer was “I’ve put words in your mouth, go where I’ve sent you and don’t worry how old you are, how others perceive you – take the words I give you and speak.”

What does it mean to be ordained, consecrated, dedicated, sanctified? It means to be associated with the sacred, to be called into something, to use the gifts we know we have, but also to discover whatever other gifts we might have too.

But here’s an interesting point too – Isaiah was ordained, consecrated, sanctified, sent. Jeremiah was ordained, consecrated, sanctified, sent. So were Ezekiel, Hosea, Micah and all the other prophets. So was Jesus.

When Jesus read the passage from Isaiah about bringing good news to the poor, release to the captives, sight to the blind, he meant it. When he announced that this scripture had been fulfilled in their hearing, he meant it. When he proclaimed the restoration of the just and equitable society that God had intended, he meant it. Jesus wasn’t speaking in vague terms about some nice idea put down in scripture years ago; he was bringing the scripture home to them, up close and personal. Too close, and too personal for comfort.

He heard them muttering amongst themselves, and decided to bring up those awkward texts right from their own scriptures, when God had blessed people other than those who called themselves “chosen”.  Jesus points up more than clearly that Elijah was sent to a starving widow in Sidon rather than a starving widow in Israel?  Someone who was NOT Israelite, not one of theirs. Why was a leper from Syria healed, rather than an Israelite leper?  NOT one of them. Not only not one of them, but a foreigner altogether. These were stories the people in Nazareth probably avoided, because their comfortable ideas of their special status with God would be challenged. They didn’t want to think about the just and equitable society that God intended, if it had to include people like that widow and that leper. They wanted to avoid dealing with it because a truly just and equitable society as God intends requires every person to make it a just and equitable society. Justice and equality don’t happen in a vacuum; everyone must work together to put the needs of the other as equally important as their own needs, if not more so. And those people didn’t deserve such treatment. They had always believed God only comes to certain people. The others could take care of themselves; the people of Nazareth, and of Israel, thought their own should be  looked after first. Why heal a sick Syrian when we have so many poor and sick people right here? Never mind that those people were shunned by those very same Israelites, for being unclean. Never mind that they weren’t allowed to live in towns. We have to take care of our own first. God chose us, right? 

Except Jesus had other ideas. He wasn’t just Joseph’s son; he was God’s son. He wasn’t concerned just with just one group of people, he was beginning to realise who God’s people were, and that the notion of being ‘chosen’ above others was foolish.  He was called, sanctified, ordained into ministry to people – all people. The Spirit of God was upon him, he was anointed to bring good news to the poor – all the poor, not just a select group.  Release to all those captives – by life, circumstance, spiritual and personal issues, prisoners. Recovery of sight to all those unable to see – physically, spiritually, emotionally. To proclaim God’s Jubilee to everyone. Suddenly that comfortable and familiar passage from Isaiah, read by someone they had known since he was two years old, now required something uncomfortable and unfamiliar. In reality they had lost sight of the promise in those words, that they too were released from their captivity and oppression, and that the year of the Jubilee year was for them too. 

They had forgotten that each one of them was a child of God, - named, gifted, called –consecrated and sanctified – that they also were gifted by God and were called to live that piece of scripture. Instead they focused on the anger and betrayal they felt when Jesus reminded them that God comes to anyone God chooses. God doesn’t just come to one group of people, and things weren’t going to happen the way they wanted it to. Jesus proclaimed new sight for the blind; they realised they had chosen to blind themselves to the truth of God’s abundant love and grace through whatever channel God chose – even people who didn’t believe the same way they did within their own faith, or who weren’t the same religion or ethnicity at all.  Recognising the truth of his words, they chose rather to remain blind, and direct their anger at the prophet who brought them the word – to shoot the messenger. They are so angry at him for daring to upset their comfort, that they try to throw him off a cliff, but in their blindness don’t see Jesus pass through their midst and continue on his way.

Rev. Frank Schaefer writes “Scripture is old, it is challenging, and it is dangerous. But it’s dangerous in the same way that leaving your mother’s womb and taking your first breath of air is dangerous. It’s scary, it’s overwhelming, and it’s filled with such promise that the possibilities can’t even begin to be comprehended.” It’s scary in the same way as recognising that we are all children of God – called, sanctified, consecrated, ordained – even before we were born. Hear God’s word to all of us. Let your eyes be opened to God’s truth, and imagine what the world would look like if we all worked for the just and equitable society that God intends. The words were true when Isaiah wrote them, they were true when Jesus read them in his home synagogue, and they’re true now. So are the words of Jeremiah – that we all were called into ministry.

The Spirit of God is upon us; we are anointed to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the Jubilee, to let everyone know that God’s favour is given everywhere in the world, regardless of faith, colour, gender.  Today the scripture stands, and all of God’s people regardless of faith or gender or orientation or colour, have been anointed to fulfill it again for the building up of all. May it be so.

Sources:

1. Wednesday lectionary group – Keswick-Ravenshoe Pastoral Charge

2. “Open Your Eyes and See What God is Doing” by Rev. Frank Schaefer

“Unrolling the Scroll” Part 1. A sermon based on Luke 4:15-23

The synagogue was packed. The rabbis and regular teachers hadn’t seen that many people in the synagogue, except maybe at Passover.  There wasn’t enough room – and the hospitality committee was suddenly thinking how on earth were they going to find enough refreshments following the service, and could some of them run home and grab some more bread and fruit.

One of the itinerant teachers in Galilee, one of their own in fact, was coming to teach. He’d been teaching around in the other synagogues, and the stories about the incredible way he could open up and explain the texts had spread all over the region. People were flocking to hear him. Everyone marvelled at his knowledge and gifts – so of course, since he was one of theirs, home grown in Nazareth, everyone had to come out to see and hear. Even the youth, who had been trying to avoid going to synagogue as much as possible. Nothing inspiring about the regular rabbis, they were looking for some energy, something to get their teeth into in their spiritual question.

As Jesus entered, the muttering and background conversations stopped, and a hush descended over the whole of the sanctuary. All eyes turned to him – Jesus, a child of Nazareth, son of Joseph and Mary, brother to James, John, and several sisters. One of the attendants had been appointed to hand Jesus the scroll of the prophet Isaiah for the morning reading.

When it was time, Jesus stood up, and with an incredible sense of timing, slowly unrolled the scroll, and found the words he was looking for –"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because I have been anointed to bring good news to the poor; 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, the Jubilee Year."

He rolled up the scroll, everyone’s eyes still glued on him – not a sound or a breath – not a movement from the congregation. Then he said “This has been fulfilled today in your hearing.” He sat down.

I am continually asked how I discerned a call to ministry, and the story almost always sounds like an anticlimax, and always a little self-serving. I was working for the Canadian Council of Churches in the Justice and Peace section, and when I applied for the executive position, was told I didn’t qualify because I didn’t have a Master of Divinity. I pointed out that the job posting didn’t mention MDiv as a requirement. The answer was that had been in error. A couple of months later I was griping to a ministry friend at the national office that I couldn’t get that position because I didn’t have an MDiv, he responded “So why don’t you go get one? You do have a call to ministry.” Huh???? Me, the person who grew up in a minister’s home and swore she’d never be a minister. Right – except – when I started discernment and started to look back, ­all the work I had done from the time I went to Japan as a missionary – was ministry. It wasn’t called that, but every single thing had something to do with people, and every single thing added a piece to a picture.  I was old by most standards,  already 49, but by the time I arrived in my first pastoral charge, I knew it was the right thing to do at the right time.

The problem is, people often think a call to ministry is something like Paul’s sudden spiritual experience on the road to Damascus. It isn’t. It’s rarely like that. Look at how Jesus got to this moment when he recognised his call, and made a public statement in front of his home congregation. He had effectively disappeared from Nazareth and Galilee, not returning till he was 30. If you look back in Luke’s text – in chapter 3, Jesus is baptised by John, and then Luke gives a complete tracing of Joseph’s geneaology. The beginning of Luke 4, the passage right before today’s, Jesus is full of the Holy Spirit and  - in that text – is led by the Spirit into the desert and tempted. It’s a period of discernment, of call, of his commitment to following the way of the God he believes in even when fame and fortune are a possibility. He comes out of this period of retreat and discernment, and starts teaching in the synagogues around Galilee.

When we first read today’s text, it sounds very simple. Jesus went to the synagogue and read from a scroll. It was the scroll of the Prophet Isaiah, and he unrolled it and found the words he wanted. But wait – was it all accidental, or did he know? Jesus was preaching all over Galilee, and came to his home town. He comes home to Nazareth after being away for a long time, and goes up to the synagogue, with his whole family, probably beaming because their eldest has returned – and when he arrives, an attendant hands him the scroll of Isaiah. He opens the scroll and finds the place of those exact words. The book of the Prophet Isaiah has 66 chapters – so it had to be either an enormous scroll, or Isaiah was broken down into smaller scrolls. Even so, that’s a heck of a lot of text.

It has to be, I think, that he knew in advance that he would be there and reading; they knew in advance that he was coming. The local boy, turned itinerant preacher, was in his hometown and scheduled to read from the scroll. He stands up to read, and goes right to the text which speaks to a call.

Prophets and prophecy in the Hebrew Scriptures are not predictions of the future they are designed to speak to the people of the time in which the prophecies are given. So if we turn to Isaiah and read that passage we hear two voices – God speaking to Isaiah and Isaiah’s voice saying “I have been anointed to do this….” And included in this is God’s year of Jubilee – when all prisoners are released, all debts forgiven, the slate wiped clean and everyone gets to start over again. God’s word to Isaiah was that Isaiah had been anointed to bring the word and do those things.

And then almost a thousand years later, along comes Jesus, opens the scroll and reads as a prophet speaking to his own time, and I believe speaking both of his ministry and the direction it would take – his mission. Jesus has nothing except the Holy Spirit, nor did the early church. The Rev Joan Gray, Moderator of the 217^th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church USA has commented, “When you really think about it, this ‘dunamis’ of the Spirit is the only thinkg the early church had going for it. It had no buildings, no budget, no paid staff, and very few members. “Dunamis”, a Greek word meaning strength, power or ability. It is the root of our word ‘dynamic’. So in this text Luke is telling us how Jesus recognised his call to ministry. He was baptised in the Jordan, by water and the Spirit; his calling and commitment were tested in the wilderness, and he found the power for an urgent ministry of grace. Note – he had no church building, no budget – nothing but his commitment to his new ministry, his mission.

Come, open the scroll and read the words: “The Spirit of God is on me because God anointed me to preach good news to the poor,  heal the heartbroken, announce freedom to all captives, pardon all prisoners, to announce the year of God’s Jubilee.” Because we are loved by God, gifted by God, blessed by God for ministry. All of us. May it be so.

Sources: “It’s All About Mission” by Rev. David Shearman, North Derby-Kilsyth Pastoral Charge.

“By Another Road” based on Matthew 2:1-12 January 3, 2015 Epiphany Sunday

‘Mage, they call me, Magus, or magician; diviner, sorcerer, wizard. They think I know and can control future events. In truth I can't. They are who and what they are, whoever and whatever they were made. I have not the power to change them. I am a scholar. My interest has always been the sun and moon, the stars and planets. What are their rhythms? What effect do they have on the earth, on people, on events? It is an ancient and honorable profession.

That's what started us on that journey so long ago. Something which looked like a star appeared, one we had never seen before. Without warning it appeared in our Western sky, blazing several orders of magnitude brighter than anything we had seen before. Nowhere was there a record describing a star suddenly appearing in such a fashion. There were popular legends, of course, of stellar events which heralded important earthly events, such as the birth of a prophet or an Emperor. We read the holy writings of the Israelite people. There was a statement in the book the Israelites called Numbers:

      "The oracle of Balaam son of Beor, the oracle of the man whose eye is clear, I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near – a star shall come out of Jacob, and a sceptre shall rise out of Israel.... One out of Jacob shall rule....   (Numbers 24:15, 17, 19)

So, armed with observations, with prophetic words, and our need to find out, we set off on roads we had never travelled before, language we did not know, different food and different people. I never did like traveling. The camels were stubborn, balky, and miserably uncomfortable to ride. Unfortunately, in the desert camels are the best mode of transport. Sometimes I would get off and walk, just to get away from them. Most nights we camped by the road, with only a miserable campfire to warm us, and our clothes to cushion the stone hard ground. If and when there was an inn, it was usually small and cramped, with poor food - and somehow whenever *we* appeared the prices were astoundingly expensive. Sometimes the smell of those places, or the bedbugs and fleas, made sleeping on the ground preferable.

On we went, mile after miserable mile, day after dreadful day, freezing in the snow which often hits this part of the country. I tell you, I was getting less and less optimistic about this journey. The problem was, many of my colleagues thought this was grand adventure, excitement and anticipation, the different food and landscapes amazing, the possibilities for learning endless. They would tell you it was the chance of a lifetime to do something completely unknown, to risk everything to take this journey.

Finally we came to Jerusalem; and were directed to the palace. Herod was king, the third ruler with that name. Because he succeeded in staying in favour with Rome and carried out a great building program to memorialise himself, he styled himself Herod the Great. We were ushered into his presence, and because of our credentials and the distance we had come, he treated us with some courtesy. So we asked where we might find the child born to be king of the Jews. We said we had seen the star, and deduced that it was connected to the ancient writings. When he heard our question his face paled; he was visibly shaken. Promising to consult priests and scholars, he dismissed us. We were taken to guest rooms where baths and food were provided. After we had rested, we were summoned to a private audience, and Herod questioned us about the star. When had it appeared? What did it look like? What made it so special? As we answered him, he determined that we should go on to Bethlehem. He told us to search for the child, and to make sure we let him know when this new king had been found.

Since Bethlehem was only about five miles south of Jerusalem, we set out late that afternoon. It was just dark when we arrived. Riding up the hill into the town, it appeared that the star had shifted and begun to move. Obviously Bethlehem was not going to be our next stop. So we continued, inquiring and learning that several families who had been there had left quite suddenly, and gone probably to Egypt. Well, once we had gone that far, we felt we must go on to whatever end there was in this journey. We all agreed, even I, that we had been brought this way for a reason, even if that reason was not yet clear.

So on we went - all the way into a small place in Egypt, the star continuing to lead us - until suddenly it seemed to stop over a small house. Or maybe we just thought it did – I was never too sure. Yet we knew this was the place! When we were admitted, we saw in the lamplight a small child. His mother invited us to sit, and offered us food - humble, but delicious and warm, far better than the food in the inns. We knelt to look at this child more closely. He seemed ordinary, and yet there was nothing ordinary about him. It was as if he were filled with something far more than human. We gave our gifts, tokens of gold, incense and perfume. Even though his parents were poor peasants, they received our gifts with a royal grace and dignity, acknowledging us but in complete humility.

Since it was late and the road was quite dark, and they had little room inside, we camped yet another night, but in a small shed. The wind, for some reason, seemed not so cold, nor the ground quite so hard. But our sleep was filled with strange dreams. I awoke more than once feeling terrified. My dreams were filled with a vision of Herod's face streaked with blood, and loud screams of terror which made me break out in a sweat. Something was not right.

The next morning, having all had similar dreams, we agreed that we would not return to Herod. Instead we angled around through the hills, back toward Hebron, but then East, below the Salt Sea, before returning to our homes on a different route – one far less travelled. On our way home, we heard the tales of a massacre of small boys under two years old.

That was many years ago, and I have taken other journeys since then, but none quite like that one. I am not even exactly sure why I undertook that journey, given that I don’t really like to travel without having a really precise road map all the way and all the details covered. I have come to think it was not by my choice that I went, but more that I was drawn on that journey, pulled by the one who inspired the prophecy and raised the star. On that journey, I saw two kings; Herod, a skilled political ruler who eliminated anything which he perceived as a threat. The other was the child. For all Herod's acumen and experience, he was no different than anyone else who has touched power. For all the child's helplessness and innocence, he seemed to be the embodiment of a saying from the ancient Israelite holy writings, come to life:

      "Look, the young woman shall become pregnant, and have a son, and he will be called Emmanuel," which in their language means, "God is with us."

I think that is the one phrase which sticks with me after all these years. Despite the cold, the discomforts, the strange food and dangerous roads, despite the fact that I am not even of their faith, I believe God was with us on that journey. Had I stayed home I would have regretted that for the rest of my life.”

January 6 is Epiphany. Every year, the lectionary brings us the Magi; we take all the elements of three years’ worth of biblical story and scrunch it down into weeks - four of Advent, one or two for Christmas, one for Epiphany – and thus forget that this story played out over several years. The Magi are generally identified as Medeans living in Persia, which at the time of Jesus’ birth was part of the Parthian Empire. They were scientists, priests, astrologers, and almost certainly Zoroastrians, an entire social class of priests and sages, the center of spiritual- political authority through several great empires over roughly five thousand years. They interpreted dreams and led sacred rituals, and may have been responsible for crowning any new ruler who came to power. If true, then to be crowned without the favour of the Magi would jeopardize the legitimacy of any king.

They believed that stars could be used to predict the birth of great rulers. They believed that the next great ruler was about to be born: the "king of the Jews." But even so, why visit the newborn king of a foreign nation? We could assume that their main intention was diplomatic; they may have thought that Herod had produced a son, who would exceed his father's legacy by leaps and bounds. Rome and Parthia were the two "superpowers" of the era.

They arrive in Jerusalem to find Herod suffering from syphilis, paranoid and almost dead. There was a laundry list of people happy to help him along to the next world. He had killed his previous wife and several sons out of suspicion that they were trying to kill him. He knew the new king was not his offspring. So he consulted with advisors, found out about the prophecy, and determined to find this usurper to his power.

After a journey of about 1300 miles, all the way into Egypt, the Magi found Mary, Joseph and the child of approximately two years old. What went through the minds of these aristocrats as they met this poor couple of a different race and religion, a mere step up from untouchables? They were not Jewish, but foreigners, Gentiles, considered pagan. If you look closely at your Christmas cards, you might see that tradition has one of them African, one Asian, and one Caucasian. Nowhere does it say there were three, just that they were Magi from the east.

So, rich and influential Zoroastrian scholars and astrologers made a pilgrimage to a town in a country more than a thousand miles from their home. They saw a celestial phenomenon which they believed heralded the birth of a new king, perhaps even a new kind of king. They travelled an incredible distance, found the one they were seeking, and presented incredibly expensive and significant gifts. They were not Jews, yet what they found transcended any individual faith. They had an “Aha!” moment - in fact, a couple of them. They took a long journey to an unknown place, which in itself was full of learning; they stretched themselves in coming to find a child of Peace, who was not of their faith; they saw through Herod, and returned on a different road - another one they likely had not travelled before. Somehow, they were profoundly changed.

Something happened to all the players in this story. All of them knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was no return to the same life, from the journeys they had taken. They were true pilgrims, because they were willing to set out on a long, long journey without knowing if they would even live. The Magi found what they were seeking, and left changed by their entire experience. Mary and Joseph did not turn away the “pagan” Gentiles, but welcomed the visitors and offered hospitality.

When we look back in our church history, we’ve discriminated against other branches of Christianity, and other faiths. We discriminate against others within our congregations who don’t see things the way we do. But the reality is we are all pilgrims on a journey of faith, hopefully having “Aha!!” moments of our own. Light is beginning to dawn, a little bit at a time. The whole church is moving into a place which has not existed for us in recent memory, where the Christian church is not the centre of faith or the world. It is unknown territory for us, and in this unknown territory we as individuals are changed.

Rev. Jody Seymour at Davidson United Methodist Church in North Carolina, says: “People who journey without being changed are nomads. People who change without going on a journey are chameleons. People who go on a journey and are changed by the journey are pilgrims.” So who are we in this story? Are we Magi, or people willing to set out on the road with them, looking for something unknown? Are we true pilgrims, or nomads, or chameleons? Do we come here, week after week, year after year, and nothing changes? Do we hang on to our negativity, our grudges? Are we Herod?

If we are pilgrims, then we are on this journey with every single other person in this congregation, this pastoral charge, this church, and all peoples of all beliefs - and we owe it to all of those others to have respect for them, even when we do not agree. God works in the world in God’s way. If we treat one person poorly, then all our claims are empty – and if we claim to follow Jesus, to follow the star, we have no other option but to allow ourselves to change and be changed. Epiphany means seeing new light and stepping out on a new road. Just as we were called to repent in Advent, so now we are called to live the repentance. May it be so.

Sources:

1. "The Mage's Tale" by   William A. McWeeny January 1997)
2. “A New Road” Matthew 2:1-12 Epiphany 2008