Jesus Sets His Agenda—And Ours
Luke 4.14-21
January 26, 2019; Epiphany 3C
In the year 1209 in Assisi, Italy, a young man from a well-to-do merchant family walked into San Niccolo church. He was looking for some spiritual direction, seeking a mission in life. So he asked the priest to open the Bible three times at random and read the first verse upon which his eye fell. The priest agreed.
Three times he opened the Bible and three times he read out loud the words of Jesus. The first time he read, “Go, sell your possessions and give the money to the poor.” [Matt 19.21]. He closed the book and opened it again, reading, “Take no bag for your journey.” [Lk. 10.4] With no comment, he closed the book once more, reopened it and read the final verse: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves.” [Matt 16.24]
The young man left the church and immediately began to do exactly what he had heard. He took those words of Christ as a mission statement, and so he gave away all he had and devoted himself to preaching the Gospel and to caring for the poor, the lepers and the needy. For Francis of Assisi, faith had to be performed and love had to be enacted. Being a Christian meant taking up the mission of Jesus as his own. [event as described by James Howell, Yours Are the Hands of Christ, 34 & Servants, Misfits and Martyrs, 22-23]
Francis, in taking the scriptures as a literal call to action, as a mission statement, was doing pretty much what Jesus did in the synagogue at Nazareth. In the verses preceding our Gospel reading, Jesus has been baptized by John and then tempted in the wilderness. At his baptism, the Holy Spirit descended on him like a dove, anointing him for his messianic work. That same Spirit then led him into the wilderness for a period of preparation, a time of prayer and fasting in which he endured and overcame temptations that would have derailed that work. And now, filled with the Spirit, he returns to Galilee to begin his mission.
When he comes to Nazareth, Jesus does what he apparently does every Sabbath—he goes to worship. When he shows up in his hometown synagogue, the leader of the synagogue, perhaps having heard the report about how this local boy was making a name for himself in the surrounding towns, asks Jesus to read the morning scripture and deliver some comments on the text. The text—whether by chance, by Jesus’ choice, by the inspiration of the Spirit or by some combination of the three—is from Isaiah 61 and, in Jesus’ hands, it becomes his own statement of identity and mission. Jesus reads the words and then declares, “Today this scripture which you have heard is being brought to fulfillment.” [Luke Timothy Johnson’s translation, Gospel of Luke, Sacra Pagina, 77] The Spirit is upon Jesus himself, anointing him to bring good news to the poor, release to the prisoners, sight to the blind and freedom to the oppressed. He has been commissioned to declare not the judgment of a vengeful God, but the favor of a gracious, compassionate and loving God. God’s will for justice, healing and human flourishing is being fulfilled in the ministry of Jesus.
There has always been a strong temptation to spiritualize these words Jesus reads from Isaiah. And it is true that Jesus brings the good news of salvation to the poor in spirit, that he releases those who are captive to sin and gives sight to those who are blind to spiritual realities. But these words are primarily about material realities. Isaiah 61 was addressed to exiles returning from Babylon and speaks of the hoped for reestablishment of a “flourishing community.” [Warren Carter, “Luke 4.14-21: Commentary 1: Connecting …with Scripture,” Connections, Year C, Vol. 1] That theme fits well with Luke’s concern for the poor and marginalized, a concern that is expressed in this Gospel’s emphasis on Jesus’ acts of compassion and community building: he heals the sick, feeds the hungry and shares table fellowship with outcasts.
Such concerns are summed up in the idea that Jesus has come to “proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” This is a reference to the year of Jubilee mandated in Leviticus 25. Every 50th year, God’s people were supposed to observe as a year of liberty, a year of redemption and rest. Sharon Ringe points out that four types of release or redemption were supposed to take place. The land was not to be cultivated during the Jubilee, so that the soil could be replenished. All debts were to be canceled. Israelites who had become indentured servants were to be set free. And any ancestral land—land allocated to a family at the time of the Israelite settlement in the Promised Land—any such land that had been sold because of financial distress was to be returned to the family. The idea was to give a fresh start to the land, the people, the economy, the society. [Ringe, Luke, Westminster Bible Companion, 68-69] It’s not clear such a Jubilee was ever observed, but the idea of Jubilee came to be a symbol of God’s kingdom, “God’s reign of justice and peace.” [Ringe, 69]
As the concept of Jubilee shows us, God is concerned not just with the status of our souls, but also with the conditions of our bodies; not just with the health of our churches and synagogues, but also with the health of our societies. Jesus’ mission is not simply to proclaim God’s grace so we can get to heaven. His mission is also to enact God’s compassion so that this world begins to be transformed into something more closely resembling God’s kingdom.
Martin Luther King, Jr. captured this truth when he wrote, “Religion deals with both earth and heaven, both time and eternity. … This means, at bottom, that the Christian gospel is a two-way road. On the one hand it seeks to change the souls of men, and thereby unite them with God; on the other hand it seeks to change the environmental conditions of men so that the soul will have a chance after it is changed. Any religion that professes to be concerned with the souls of men and is not concerned with the slums that damn them, the economic conditions that strangle them, and the social conditions that cripple them is a dry-as-dust religion. Such a religion is the kind that Marxists like to see - an opiate of the people.” [Stride Toward Freedom, 36] And, I might add, it is the kind of religion that many who are spiritual but not religious are rejecting, the kind that militant atheists delight in criticizing.
The Beloved Community that Jesus came to inaugurate is one that cares for the poor, the widows, the orphans and the resident aliens—an oft repeated commandment in the Hebrew Scriptures. [See for example Duet 10.18 & 24.19; also see Ps 146.9 & Zech 7.10 among many others.] It is a community that welcomes the needy, the different, the stranger and the outcast. It is a community that seeks to do justice and show mercy, even as it lives humbly in the world. It is a community that is more concerned with embodying love for neighbors in concrete acts of compassion and generosity than for preserving institutions, perfectly observing rituals, or dominating society.
Back in December, the New York Times published a remarkable conversation between columnist David French, an evangelical Christian, and Jonathan Rausch, an atheist. In the past, Rausch had thought the decreasing influence of Christianity and the increasing secularization of our society was a good thing for democracy. But he has changed his mind. People need principles to guide them and without a religion or philosophy to provide that, folks turn to politics—Rausch points to concepts like “wokeness” or movements like Q-Anon or MAGA as examples—to provide them with values. However, Rausch contends that none of these political movements is actually very good at instilling virtues like truthfulness, self-sacrifice, concern for others or a sense of the dignity and worth of every person. Indeed, it appears to me that much of our political culture is motivated by self-interest, fear, and the need to win.
Rausch thinks what the country really needs is people who take their religion seriously. He contends, “What really needs to happen to get our country on a better track is for Christianity not to become more secular or more liberal, but to become more like itself, to become more truly Christian.
“I came to that for a few reasons, but one of them is knowing … Christians who showed me that the three fundamentals of Christianity map very well onto the three fundamentals of Madisonian [democracy]. And one of those [fundamentals] is don’t be afraid. No. 2 is be like Jesus. Imitate Jesus. And No. 3 is forgive each other. And those things are very much like how you run a constitutional republic.” [David French, “What if Our Democracy Can’t Survive Without Christianity? An atheist helps David French understand how religion supports America’s political ideals.” New York Times, Dec. 18, 2024; https://www.nytimes.com/2024/12/18/opinion/christianity-democracy-religion.html]
I think that Rausch is right. Sometimes the outsiders, in this case a Jewish atheist, get it better than the insiders. What I take away from Rausch’s observations is that Christians need to take their faith seriously as a basis for engaging with other Americans, many of whom are not Christian. We need to show one another grace—to value the other even though they are different from us, to defend their inherent worth and thus their unalienable rights as human beings, to forgive and seek reconciliation with them. We need to trust in God and not give in to our fears. And we need to imitate Jesus. We need to preach good news to the poor—in word and deed; to seek the release of those who are in bondage to addiction or debt or sin; to advocate for the oppressed and the outcast, seeking a more just society, working with working with people of goodwill to bring us closer to God’s dream for humanity. And I would add, we need to be humble, knowing that we are not God and do not fully know the mind of God; that we are, all of us, fallible, finite and sinful; and thus we need God’s help and guidance.
I think we saw an example of this in Episcopal Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde sermon during the inaugural prayer service on Tuesday. Her sermon was based on Matthew 7.24-29, Jesus’ call for his followers to ground themselves on the solid rock of faith by both hearing and enacting his teachings. She called for unity, not conformity or agreement, but a coming together which “fosters community across diversity and division.” Such unity, she contended must be built upon the solid foundations of humility, honesty and recognizing and honoring the dignity of all people. [Leah Schade, “11 Lessons for Preachers from Bishop Budde’s Sermon,” January 25, 2025; https://www.patheos.com/blogs/ecopreacher/2025/01/11-lessons-for-preachers-from-bishop-buddes-sermon/ ]
At the conclusion of her sermon, she directly addressed President Trump. In a calm, gracious tone, she appealed to him to show mercy to LGBTQ folks, immigrants who came to this country illegally, and refugees fleeing violence and oppression. She said, “In the name of our God, I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared now. There are gay, lesbian and transgender children in Democratic, Republican, and Independent families, some who fear for their lives. The people who…may not be citizens or have the proper documentation. But the vast majority of immigrants are not criminals. They pay taxes and are good neighbors. They are faithful members of our churches and mosques, synagogues, gurudwaras and temples. I ask you to have mercy, Mr. President, on those in our communities whose children fear that their parents will be taken away. And that you help those who are fleeing war zones and persecution in their own lands to find compassion and welcome here. Our God teaches us that we are to be merciful to the stranger, for we were all once strangers in this land.” Afterwards she explained, “I was trying to say: The country has been entrusted to you…And one of the qualities of a leader is mercy.” [Siladitya Ray, “What Did the Bishop Say to Trump During the Inaugural Prayer Service? Here’s the Full Transcript,” Forbes, Jan. 22, 2025; https://www.forbes.com/sites/siladityaray/2025/01/22/what-did-the-bishop-say-to-trump-during-prayer-service-heres-the-full-transcript/ ]
The reaction was about what you would expect. A Georgia congressman said the preacher should be deported, despite the fact she was born in the U.S. President Trump tweeted that the “so-called Bishop…was nasty in tone, and not compelling or smart” and called her statements “inappropriate.” Her tone was anything but nasty, but of course that is exactly what he says about any woman who doesn’t kowtow to him. Elon Musk suggested the Bishop was infected with “the woke mind-virus.” I suspect the only thing she’s infected with is the Holy Spirit!
Nancy posted a clip of the Bishop’s plea, for that is what it was—a plea, on Facebook and a friend of ours had a very different reaction. This friend is someone we both think highly of, a really fine person, but its important to know that, so far as we can tell, they aren’t religious. Indeed, I suspect they would describe themselves as agnostic or even atheist. Despite this, they responded to the controversy over the Bishop’s words by posting, “It’s amazing that asking wealthy and powerful people to have empathy for the most marginalized people in our society, in a church, is a controversial statement.” Again, sometimes the outsiders get it better than the believers.
But sometimes the believers do get it. Sometimes we really do try to follow Jesus. On Christmas Eve, Amelia Fulbright, pastor of Congregational UCC in Greensboro, NC, posted this on her Facebook page: “As I left church tonight after our Christmas Eve service, winding my way down the sidewalk past the carefully placed luminaries toward my car, I experienced one of those moments of profound gratitude that sneak up on you from time to time.
I could hear chatter coming from the temporary apartment in our church basement, where a Syrian refugee family moved in just last night—on Christmas Eve Eve. The last member of the Tuesday night recovery groups had walked out just ahead of me.
It had been a wonderful service. The candlelight was glorious, the music was sublime, and we had a large crowd, which always makes a preacher feel good. The boiler was struggling, but she had rallied just in time. It had already been a good night, but to know that as we sang “Silent Night” and “Joy to the World,” strangers were finding refuge in our building, be it from war or addiction—well, that is what makes our singing more than empty piety. …
We really can be Light for each other when the world is bleak and the nights are long.”
Let us never forget what Bishop Budde and the people of Congregational UCC know: that Jesus’ mission is also our mission. We are his disciples, those who imitate him, who seek to be like him. We are, as Paul says, the Body of Christ, his eyes, his ears, his mouth, his hands, his feet in the world. We are the ones who, hearing Christ’s voice calling us through the scriptures, carry on his work of mercy, healing, love and liberation, now, today, and every day, in this time and place, and thereby live out our baptismal covenant.
Back in February of 2008 a super-tornado devastated the town of Lafayette, TN. A group of men from a church in Nashville arrived the next day with pickup trucks and chainsaws. For the next three days they cut up fallen trees and hauled away debris. Word of their work reached a reporter who decided this might make a good newspaper article. When the reporter found the men they were hard at work but they agreed to be interviewed. The reporter asked one of the men, a construction worker with chainsaw still in hand, why he and his friends had come up from Nashville to help in the recovery efforts. Why are you all here? The man replied, “We want to be God with skin on.” [Thielen, What’s the Least I Can Believe and Still Be a Christian, 95-96]
“God with skin on:” that’s what Jesus was and, in a very real sense, that’s what we are called to be. That’s what it means to carry on Jesus’ mission. That’s what it means to be the body of Christ in the world. So, let us take up the mission of Jesus as our own. Let us be the hands and feet by which his work of healing and justice continues. Let us be the instruments of his peace, the conduits of his grace and the sacraments of his world transforming love. Let us make it our first priority to enflesh faith, to embody love, and to enact God’s compassion so that the poor, the prisoners, the blind and the oppressed may declare, “Today, Christ’s mission is being fulfilled in our lives.” May it be so.