January 20, 21, 2007
Third Sunday after the
Epiphany
The Rev. Barbara
Schlachter
Thirty years ago today
(yesterday) I was
ordained a priest in
the Episcopal Church.
It was an incredible
occasion, attended by
many, including some
folks I didn’t even
know. It was clear
that while I was the
vehicle, the
ordination was really
not about me, but
about what new thing
God was doing in our
time. That having
been said, I want to
tell one funny story
about that event.
What you need to
remember before I tell
it is that Jan. 20 is
also inauguration day
for the President of
the United States.
The day after the
ordination, the Herald
Statesman, our local
Westchester County
paper, had a huge
picture of me in my
vestments with my
presenters, with a big
headline: Village
Woman Ordained
Priest. Down below
with a smaller picture
and smaller print,
Jimmy Carter
Inaugurated
President. After all,
Westchester County had
carried stories of men
having been
inaugurated president
before, but this was
the first time a woman
in the county had ever
been ordained an
Episcopal priest.
What we have in our
Gospel this morning is
an Inaugural address,
to continue using the
language. It is
Jesus, returning to
preach for the first
time in his hometown.
The local boy who has
been making good has
returned to the
synagogue that gave
him his start.
His larger family and
friends had heard
stories of his
success, and they were
so happy that they
were going to share in
it.
It started out well
enough. Jesus is
handed a scroll. It
is the prophet
Isaiah. He chooses a
passage to share (I
almost wrote passion,
which may be really
closer to the truth.)
He reads those
incredible words that
you just heard, which
are the words of
Isaiah 61, with a
verse thrown in from
Isaiah 58. And he
leave out a few words
that are there, which
is to let us know that
this is not just a
random passage. These
are words that Jesus
has carefully chosen
and thought about.
Let’s reflect on what
has happened so far in
Jesus’ ministry. He
was baptized by John,
which he considered
his anointing. He was
immediately driven
into the wilderness
where he was tempted
by Satan. He learned
in that time of trial
what his ministry was
not going to be
about: not about just
responding to people’s
physical needs in the
form of bread lines;
not about power in the
sense of being King of
the World; not about
daring and dashing
miracles to prove he
was truly God’s
beloved. No, those
were not the ways he
was called.
So what was he called
to do and to be? He
tells us in Isaiah’s
words: The Spirit of
the Lord is upon me,
because he has
anointed me—to fulfill
the following action
items:
1—to bring good news
to the poor
2—to proclaim release
to the captives
3—and recovery of
sight to the blind
4—to let the oppressed
go free
5—to proclaim the year
of the Lord’s favor.
We can be sure he read
as one who spoke with
authority. He rolled
up the scroll and sat
down to preach, as it
was the custom to do.
The eyes of everyone
were fixed on him, in
great expectation.
What would this son of
Mary and Joseph say
about these words?
What good things was
he going to do for
them, what kind of
miracles and bennies
was he going to bestow
upon family and
friends?
His words were
electric: “Today this
scripture has been
fulfilled in your
hearing.” Wow! Talk
about claiming
authority. I am sure
they sat up even
straighter, leaning
forward a little more,
waiting in delicious
anticipation.
But this is where it
falls apart. And this
part is not even
included in the Gospel
reading for this
morning. I’m going to
have to fill you in.
He tells them that he
will not be able to do
any miracles there
among them, for he has
not come for them. He
has come for the
outsider, for the
Gentile as well as the
Jew, and he knows that
this will anger them
sufficiently so that
they will not be open
to his authority and
power.
H was telling them in
so many words—and go
home and read them for
yourselves—that he was
not what they expected
and he was more than
what they hoped. I
believe that in
telling the people
what he was going to
do, what his ministry
was, he was also
telling them that his
model was not the
successful miracle
working king who would
restore the Israel
they all had heard
about and loved, but
the Suffering Servant
that Isaiah spoke
about.
In the prophecy of
Isaiah there is a
figure that has been
named the suffering
servant. No one can
tell for sure whether
this servant was an
individual or a group
or perhaps the whole
nation of Israel. But
these songs of the
suffering servant
baffle those who have
heard them through the
generations. I
believe that Jesus
identified his call,
his anointing, with
that of the Suffering
Servant. His mission
was the five points
above—but his role
would ultimately mean
that he would anger
people to the point
that he would be
killed. He was God’s
servant and he would
suffer for it.
If he was testing the
waters in his
hometown, he certainly
saw that those waters
were troubled, for
after he said their
lack of understanding
would prohibit his
ability to do any
signs and wonders and
that he was going to
find understanding and
faith in the Gentiles,
the people in his
hometown, “got up,
drove him out of the
town, and led him to
the brow of the hill
on which their town
was built, so that
they might hurl him
off the cliff.” I
quote exactly. On
that cliff now there
is a religious house,
a home of hospitality,
where I stayed some
time back, and on that
cliff overlooking
Nazareth, it was my
privilege to celebrate
the eucharist, in
which we remember
Jesus’ broken and
bleeding body.
But it was not his
time; his ministry was
just starting, and
they did not hurl him
off the cliff. We are
told, “He passed
through the midst of
them and went on his
way.”
So let’s back up from
the drama of this
story and take a look
at what he actually
said he was about.
The first place of
proclamation is to the
poor—to care for those
who are in economic
hardship—Jesus is
against poverty and
impoverishment. The
second is release for
the captives, and the
word here for release
implies forgiveness,
so it is release from
our sins, from those
things that imprison
us by regret or guilt.
The third is restoring
sight to the blind, in
the sense of
recovering the
prophetic vision of
who Israel was meant
to be as a people.
The fourth is to free
the oppressed-- from
what ever oppresses,
and we all know
oppression can be
economic, political,
physical or demonic.
And finally, to
proclaim the year of
the Lord’s favor,
which would have been
understood as the
Jubilee year, that
year after seven years
times seven would be
the 50th
year in which land was
to be returned to the
family who originally
owned it.
I wish I could go on
longer about each of
these—they are like
the Millennium
Development Goals,
only they are now in
their fourth
millennium since
Isaiah said them .
Don’t think the
Millennium Development
Goals are entirely a
new idea!
But what excites me is
that perhaps it is in
our time that this
prophecy is to be
fulfilled. Perhaps we
are the ones that will
hear and heed and
fulfill the words of
Isaiah and Jesus.
What would this mean
for our world? We
would realize that
poverty is the
ultimate sin, as the
Archbishop of Cape
Town has recently
said. We would
realize that the Good
News of Jesus is about
lifting of what holds
us down and back, and
that the healing of
our physical bodies
and the body of the
world are somehow one
healing, one
reconciliation of the
one great wound we all
bear. It would mean
that we would regain a
right relationship
with the land which
supports us all and
which no one but God
can truly be said to
own.
It would mean that no
one, absolutely no
one, is outside the
Good News of the Reign
of God.
There is a lot of work
here. Can we hear the
Good News in it? Can
we get excited?
Now I want to tell you
one thing that I have
learned in thirty
years of priestly
ministry. Are you
ready? You know how
in every eucharist in
the midst of what we
call the Great
Thanksgiving we
proclaim, Christ has
died, Christ is Risen,
Christ will come
again? Well, what I
have come to realize
is that we are wrong
to believe that that
is some future event.
Christ has come
again. Christ is in
the Body of Christ,
the faithful people,
the baptized
community. You are
the Christ who has
come again, and this
work of changing the
world to eliminate the
scourge of poverty, to
proclaim God’s healing
and reconciling love
for all, and to care
for the earth in a
God-centered way, is
what we are about.
We are not a bunch of
little Jesuses running
around doing our own
thing, but we, we
together, are the
Body of Christ, as St.
Paul said so
eloquently in the
epistle for this
morning. And our
response to this
incredible news—to
this miracle of being
alive at this
incredible time in
history is, I think,
to be the response of
the people at the
Water Gate in our
first lesson:
celebrate, share, and
rejoice, for the joy
of God is our
strength. Amen!
Truly! Amen!