Manuscript for sermon at Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventist Church
Sabbath, November 30, 2013
Luke 13 and 19
The story begins with a heart-breaking
portrait of affliction. A woman has a horrible deformity of the
spine. A kids' version of the story goes like this:
There once was a
woman who had very much trouble.
So much trouble,
in fact, she was bent over double.
All day long as
she went about town
all she could see
was down on the ground.
She recognized
people not by their faces
but by the color
and shape of their laces.
She could not see
the sky or birds flying by.
She could not pick
the figs in the tree by her house
Or fetch down the
pot from the shelf up top.
One Sabbath this woman who had very
much trouble and was bent over double, went to the synagoge as usual.
And who should show up that day, but Jesus. When Jesus saw her, he
called her forward and said to her, “Woman, you are set free from
your infirmity.” Then Jesus touched her and she was immediately
healed. Her back straightened. Now she would be able to look up at
the sky. She could go home and pick her figs. She would be able to
see the top of her teenage son's head.
Naturally, she was ecstatic and praised
God.
The synagogue ruler, however, was quite
annoyed. “Look,” he said, “there are six days for this kind of
stuff. Come on those days and be healed. But today—why, this is the
Sabbath! It is a day for worship, not for healing.
Jesus pushed back.
“You hypocrites!
Each of you works on the Sabbath day! Don’t you untie your ox or
your donkey from its stall on the Sabbath and lead it out for water?
The answer was a foregone conclusion.
Judaism had a well-developed ethic of the priority of life over
ritual, even the life of an animal was worth more than a sacred
ritual. So, yes, the most religious Jew, the most devout rabbi would
not hesitate to untie his donkey and lead it out to water.
So, Jesus says, if you have that much
regard for a donkey or an ox what about this woman?
This dear woman, a
daughter of Abraham, has been held in bondage by Satan for eighteen
years! Isn’t it right that she be released, even on the Sabbath?”
Luke 13:15-16
“Daughter of Abraham.” This woman
was not just any human being, some riffraff drifted in from the
street. She was Jewish nobility. She was an insider, a family member
with a pedigree that went back to the greatest of great names.
Daughter of Abraham.
When the synagogue ruler looked at the
woman, he saw a deformed, misshapen, grotesque figure. He saw how
different she was from the ideal of womanhood. In his eyes the
magnitude of that difference was a measure of her unworthiness. To
this professional, the extent of her deformity was a measure of how
far she was from having any legitimate claim on the favor of God or
the service of the community. “Get fixed.” he was saying. “Then
come and worship.”
Or worship, if you must, then go get
fixed. But either way, know you are not one of us.
Jesus cut through all this status game
with a simple declaration: This woman is a daughter of Abraham. She
belongs. She is in the family. And because she is in the family, the
extent of her deformity is a measure of her claim on the resources of
heaven, a measure of our obligation to her.
We just witnessed three baptisms. In an
official, public rite we welcomed three young women with noble
characters, bright minds, musical gifts, and admirable faith. Any
family would be proud to claim these young woman as “part of the
family.” We certainly are.
How does the story of the woman bent
over double, the Daughter of Abraham, connect with the lives of these
young women?
First this story is a promise: On
behalf of God, we are saying to Sophie, Irina and Charlotte, “Your
place here is not created by your beauty, your character, your
intelligence, your moral achievements. We take delights in all those
virtues. Yes. And if they all were gone tomorrow, you would still be
part of the family. If something happens and you end up bent over
double for 18 years, we will still claim you as our own, as God's
own.”
Second this story is a challenge, a
call: You are called to speak on God's behalf. God calls you to say
to one another and to your classmates and neighbors: you, too, are
welcome among us. You, too, are children of the Heavenly King. You
are called to see with the eyes of God. To see yourself as God sees
you—dearly beloved. And to see others as God sees them—deary
beloved.
Baptism welcomes all of us into a
community committed to healing. Among us brokenness is acknowledged.
We don't pretend that being bent over double is normal. We reject the
idea that being bent over double is just as good as standing upright.
But rather than condemning the person who is bent over double, we
join them in longing for healing. We do everything we can to provide
for healing.
When the woman who was bent over double
was healed, naturally she was ecstatic. And she was not the only one
who got excited. When Jesus pushed back against the synagogue ruler's
protest, and insisted that healing the woman was the exactly right
thing to do, the rest of the congregation joined the women in happy
celebration.
This shamed his
enemies, but all the people rejoiced at the wonderful things he did.
Luke 13:17
Baptism brings us all into a family
where we celebrate healing. Our response to human brokenness is a
hunger for healing, a hunger that over time displaces our “natural”
hunger for vengeance and even our hunger for propriety.
In Luke 19, we read another story about
inclusion in the family of God. Zacchaeus was a prominent tax
collector in the city of Jericho. Tax collectors were opportunistic
business men, widely regarded as morally deficient. Zacchaeus heard
Jesus was coming to town. He wanted to see Jesus, but because he was
short and because his life could be at risk in a dense crowd, he
climbed a tree along the route Jesus would take into town. (In that
culture, tax collectors were seen as collaborators with the enemy
because they were acting on behalf of the Roman occupation army.
Nationalists would happily kill a collaborator if they could do so
without getting caught. A short man squeezed in the middle of a
dense, milling crowd would have been a tempting assassination
opportunity.)
Jesus stopped under the tree, looked up
and said, “Zacchaeus, come down. I'm going to eat lunch at your
house this afternoon.”
Zacchaeus tumbled out of the tree and
led Jesus and his entourage to his house.
This time the sentiments of the crowd
were aligned with the judgment of the Pharisees. They were mad at
Jesus. He was contradicting their own prejudices. “He has gone to
be the guest of a notorious sinner,” they grumbled. Luke 19:7
At his estate, Zacchaeus put on a
feast. At some point in the dinner, Zacchaeus made a little speech.
“I will give
half my wealth to the poor, Lord, and if I have cheated people on
their taxes, I will give them back four times as much!” Luke 19:8
Jesus, hearing this speech, responds,
Salvation has come
to this home today, for this man has shown himself to be a true son
of Abraham. Luke 19:9
By going to dinner at Zacchaeus' house,
Jesus had demonstrated that he saw Zacchaeus as “inside” the
family. When Zacchaeus responded by renouncing deceptive practices
and pledging himself to restitution and to generosity, Jesus said in
effect, “This proves his place in the family. These are our family
values. This kind of behavior is our family tradition.”
The Bible imagines the church as a
family—an idealized family.
When someone in the family gets sick,
has an accident, loses a job, experiences grief, a healthy family
rallies. The family pulls together to see what can be done to support
the person.
When the Bible describes baptism as a
death and resurrection it is highlighting the radical nature of our
identity in Christ. We bury our old identity and are raised with a
new identity. We come up out of the water as the newly born children
of God, people who have been born into a new family.
In this new family, we have high
ideals. We aim to be holy. To love people the way God loves. To
forgive as we have been forgiven. To be self-controlled and wise. To
be compassionate and generous. To be disciplines and courageous.
When we observe in ourselves or in
others a gap between performance and these ideals, we understand that
gap as room for growth, as an invitation to orient our lives again
toward these noble goals. The gap between performance and the ideal
is an occasion for grace—God's pardon, our pardon.
In the family of God, there is no
condemnation. Instead we live in hope.
I have listened to mothers of disabled
children talk of their dreams and longings for their children. Of
course, these mothers want more for their children. But that longing
has nothing to do with condemnation. It has everything to do with
loving dreams. God dreams of our success, our achievement of holiness
and righteousness. God's awareness of the obvious gap between our
aspirations and our performance does not lead God to reject us,
condemn us. Rather God uses that gap as a call to invite us to try
again, to aim higher, to receive forgiveness and to pass it on.
Baptism links us together in a
community of hope.
Here at our church we have a couple of
young men who are unable to shake our hands or respond in kind when
we say good morning. That doesn't stop us from saying good morning.
When I see Alex or Quinn, I call them by name and greet them. I would
be thrilled if they reached out and shook my hand. I would be
ecstatic if Alex responded with a big smile. It hasn't happened. But
that doesn't stop me. It leaves me hoping. Someday. Maybe.
The stories of the woman and Zacchaeus
turn out right. The woman bent over double stands erect. She can see
the sky and pick her figs. The corrupt business man becomes generous
and conscientious. We cheer the wonderful turn arounds in these
stories. But the spiritual heart of the two stories is not the way
they turn out. The spiritual heart of the stories is the radical
vision of family announced by Jesus:
This woman is a daughter of Abraham.
This man is a son of Abraham. Those who looked like they did not
belong, had the status of insiders and old timers.
Baptism declares us, even us, to be
insiders and old timers. We belong here. This is our family. Further,
baptism declares that we, even we, have been given the full
responsibilities of insiders and old timers. That is, we are called
to reach out. To bring help and hope and healing to all. We are call
to participate fully in the mission of God.