January 23, 2022 + Third Sunday after Epiphany + Luke 4:14-21 + Pastor Michelle Sevig
I saw a Peanuts cartoon this week that had Lucy walking with an angry expression on her face and Charlie Brown trailing behind her. She says, “I hate this year! Everyone said things would be better, but they’re not!” Then she stops and turns to face him, “I don't think this is a New Year at all!” Then with a fist in the air shouting, “I think we've been stuck with a USED YEAR!”
I suppose we ought to give it more than 22 days before we draw any conclusions about 2022, but so far there doesn’t seem to be anything new about this New Year. This one seems like a repeat of the last one-USED (as Lucy put it). Hospitals are at capacity. Workers are exhausted or unable to work because they’re testing positive for Covid. The Chicago Teachers Union and the Mayor started the year off fighting, again. Alarming breakdowns in civility and basic kindness. Rising epidemics of anxiety and depression. Our democracy is in peril as voting rights are on the line.
Anyone else feeling overwhelmed and exhausted this New Year? If someone dares to tell me to stay positive or look on the bright side of things, I’ll probably give em’ the stink eye.
So imagine if I, your pastor, stood before you today and said, “Celebrate and rejoice, right now, because today is a day holy to the Lord. This year-2022- is the year of the Lord's favor.” What would you do? Hopefully, not give me the stink eye. Maybe you’d recognize that’s not how I speak, so it must be from scripture. But you might say, “What? Are you kidding me? Not this year! We’ve got a glimpse of this year. It’s USED. And it ain't pretty.
Two stories from today’s scripture neither dwell on the past, nor long for a different future. But these biblical texts call the people then, call us now, to hear the word of God together and draw our attention to the sacredness of the present moment.
Let’s start with Nehemiah, a minor prophet that only comes up in our 3 year lectionary rotation once; today. Therefore I didn’t know much (anything) about this story, so with thanks to writer Debi Thomas, a brief summary. Nehemiah works for the King of Persia, and when he hears that Jerusalem is broken he begs the king to let him go back to his homeland to rebuild the city of his ancestors. He succeeds in rebuilding the walls and gates. Nehemiah invites his ancestors back, then gathers them at the city gate. That’s where our reading for today starts.
Ezra reads from the book of the law of Moses for 4 hours. Can you imagine? And the people worship with their hands in the air and their faces to the ground and they weep. They had recently returned from exile to a homeland that was still in ruins. Sure they were in a new place, full of promise, but I bet it felt like a used place.
Their trauma was fresh and their future was unclear. Their most recent memories were ones of loss, dislocation, oppression and chaos. Much like our recent memories and experiences; loss, isolation, division and chaos. Our traumas are fresh. Our future is unclear.
When Ezra finished reading the scripture to them we’re told they heard with interpretation and understood the reading and they wept. I imagine they wept because of their sorrow, possibly regret for their own sins, in mourning for all they had surrendered and lost. Certainly there was much to weep about for all they had endured as they looked back on their years of exile and on the horizon toward a new year, a new life in the city Nehemiah had built.
The story ends with Nehmiah and Ezra telling the people to go home, eat the fat and drink the sweet wine. Share the feast with those who are poor. For this day is holy to the Lord.
Most importantly, God is present in the midst of it all. Present in the sorrow, with them in the lament, active in their rejoicing and celebration. God’s word–living and active–holds all of this, allows all of this. And when the time is right God transforms the entire encounter into an experience of joy.
This day is holy to the Lord. As was yesterday. And tomorrow will be too.
The second story is more familiar to me, and maybe to you too. Jesus returns to his hometown, Nazareth, and goes to the synagogue on the sabbath day. He reads from the prophet Isaiah, “The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he 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, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.”
Those present had likely heard these words before, but when Jesus read them there was something different. The eyes of all were fixed on him. Maybe they knew there was something different about him, something holy. Jesus said, “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
Jesus doesn’t simply read words from a text. He is the WORD–God made flesh. God made visible. God right there in the midst of them. So when Jesus reads from Isaiah, saying “The Lord has sent me…” he is proclaiming God is here and now. Today. The word of God is neither dull nor dead. It is alive. The time of the Lord’s favor stands in front of them, embodied before their eyes. Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.
Today, right now, is holy to the Lord. And sometimes I have a hard time embracing the holiness of today. Of this period in time, even when it’s messy or chaotic, or not exactly as I imagined it would be.
Much of the time I live my life on hold, waiting for what’s next, for everything to be better. For instance, I remember yearning for my babies to sleep through the night, then before I knew it my oldest was sleeping in a college dorm. Did I embrace the holiness of those baby days? Not enough! And these past two years have felt like our lives have been on hold and that real life will resume when we can get back to normal. When church is in person, maskless and full of singing. Or we assume we can’t lean into God’s joy until we get a handle on all of life’s challenges–climate change, white supremacy, COVID.
And yet, today is holy to the Lord. As was yesterday. And as tomorrow will be too.
And so that’s why I keep coming back to this place, not only because you pay me to do it. But if you didn’t pay me to be in this place I’d be in another community too, because I need this place. I need a place - a community of people either in person or online. Because when we come together to hear the word of God in holy scripture, as the people did at the Watergate did when Ezra read for 4 hours or when Jesus proclaimed from the scroll of Isaiah, or when we see the body of Christ enfleshed in other people, when we taste and see that the Lord is good in bread and wine, we are emboldened to live into the holiness of this present moment. To look beyond ourselves and our own yearnings and worries to to look beyond this place to be Christ’s body in the world, anointed in baptism to bring good news to the poor and let the oppressed be free.
This is a holy, precious time my friends. It is not a used year. It may be chaotic and unnerving at times but there is holiness too, because the Holy One is present with us holding us, encouraging us, challenging us and loving us every day of the year.