No Way But God’s      a Sermon preached at First Presbyterian Church, Clarks Summit, PA on
                                      the Fifth Sunday in Lent, April 3, 2022. Scripture readings: Isaiah 43. 16-21;                                          Psalm 126; Philippians 3. 4b-14; John 12. 1-8 

On a blustery Saturday in March, in the chilly kitchen of a home no one had cooked in for years, a son spoke of the warmth his mother generated in that place, not just with the meals and baked goods she prepared at the stove, but with the generosity of her heart.  Around her kitchen table the son’s friends had gathered for a snack after playing football out in the yard.  Friday nights his mother’s friends and neighbors filled the chairs as they drank coffee and ate what came out of the oven and solved the problems of the world.

            Anticipating her funeral triggered a memory. Whenever there was a death in the family or among their friends, the son and his father would be enlisted to deliver dinner to the home wherever that grieving family was gathered.  The same ritual took place when someone came home from the hospital.  The mother would prepare a full meal, soup to nuts, as they say, and father and son would deliver it.

            Fast forward four days.  The funeral was over, the story of those dinners having been shared. The trip to the cemetery was complete. Family and friends were seated around tables telling stories.  The man to my left said that on his way up the turnpike extension, he had been trying to estimate how many meals he had been served in that kitchen.  The woman across the table added a story that made those father and son deliveries prepared by the mother all the more amazing.

            With a big smile she recalled being in the hospital one November and being discharged the day before Thanksgiving.  Her extended family was expected for dinner the next day, but she was in no condition to provide it. Not to worry, her friend assured her.  Sure enough the father and son delivered the meal…one course at a time: first the appetizers, then soup, followed by the salad, turkey with all the trimmings, and finally desert.  An overwhelming act of generosity still appreciated decades later, as if it had happened last week.

            At what might have been a funeral dinner had Jesus not raised a man from the dead, Mary offered Jesus an extravagant gift given from a faithful, grateful heart. The story takes place in the days between the death and restoration of Lazarus and the death and resurrection of Jesus.  The stench of death Mary’s sister Martha had warned about outside the tomb of her brother, Lazarus, gave way to a lovely fragrance of expensive perfume wafting through the whole house.

            It was one of those over-the-top, full-heart moments, at least for Mary.  We wonder if it was simply her gratitude at having her brother’s life restored, or was it something more?  Scripture portrays Mary as the one who sat at Je-sus’ feet and soaked up his teachings with the disciples. Now she pours the perfume on his feet and wipes them dry with her hair. It is an intimate gesture. Is it a picture of loving with all one’s heart, soul, mind and strength? 

Could it be that she heard and processed the things he said would happen to him in over the hill in Jerusalem? Did she get that there would soon be another death to cause her tears to flow?  Jesus seems to indicate in his rebuke of Judas that she has somehow decided to do what there would not be time to do come Friday next.

“Leave her alone, she bought it so that she might keep if for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” (12.7-8)

The comment about the poor was in response to the objection raised by Judas.  The money spent on perfume could have been used to help the poor. “There will be plenty of time for helping the poor later,” Jesus is saying.  Mary is living in the moment, expressing her love for Jesus, an opportunity that will soon be over. The new thing God is doing through Jesus plays out as Mary’s act of kindness fore-shadows another foot washing yet to come.

            Living in the moment, with an appreciation for what has been, and anticipation for what will be, is a thread woven though all of our readings this morning.  Through Isaiah, God reminds the Israelites of God’s grace to their ancestors at the time of the Exodus and points to a new act of rescue that is about to happen.  The Psalmist remembers an earlier time of blessing and uses it to inspire a heartfelt prayer asking to experience similar blessings. Nearing the end of his life, Paul expresses appreciation for his impressive pedigree, reaching back into his past, while pressing forward to “know(ing) Christ and the power of his resurrection.”

            Some people find it curious that God, using Isaiah’s voice to speak, started by retelling the story of the Exodus, reminding the exiled Hebrews of that pivotal moment when God saved them, only to tell them not to get stuck in the past. God’s introduction is a masterful condensa-tion of history that in other places in the Scriptures leads to a command to remember it.  But not here. This time the historical reminiscence leads to a startling statement:

           “Thus says the Lord, who makes a way in the sea,
            a path in the mighty waters who brings out chariot and warrior,
            they lie down, they cannot rise, they are extinguished, quenched like a wick:
            Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.
            I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?”

“Nowhere else in Scripture are people called thus to forget,” writes Old Testament professor Patricia Tull, who asks: “Who is this prophet to contradict Moses?”[i]

            A careful reading of the prophet’s words reveals some-thing startling. All the actions God describes are presented in the present tense.  God “makes,” not made, “a way in the sea.”  God “brings out,” not brought out “chariot and horse;” Pharaoh’s pursuing soldiers “are,” not were, “extinguished, quenched like a wick.”  The retelling of the past is a signal to be alert in the pre-sent. God is saying: “What I once did, I am still doing…take a look around.”

            Tull writes: “…Isaiah’s forceful order to forget is ironically hedged about with remembrance so powerful that it defies amnesia, perhaps even awakens many from it. Thus this order to forget the past turns out to be a hyperbolic introduction to an event the prophet expects to be so world-changing that it actually displaces their founding story.” [ii]

            Another Old Testament scholar puts it this way: “What he (Isaiah) wants to say is: ‘stop mournfully looking back and clinging to the past, and open your minds to the fact that a new, mira-culous act of God lies ahead of you.”[iii] Claus Westermann goes onto explain: “The new thing which God was proclaiming himself to be about to do is the new thing which Israel had ceased to expect, hope for, or believe in…As her laments show, she (Israel) thought that God’s saving acts were now a closed chapter.”[iv]

            The scriptures this morning warn us against making the same mistake.  These voices from the past urge us to keep our eyes peeled in the present.  

            So what is this new thing God will do? The words of the prophet describes it.  The new situation of the people calls for a new approach. The God who made a way in the sea for Moses and his people is about to make a way through the desert for Isaiah’s contemporaries. Dry land to cross the river becomes a hospitable path home through the desert with rivers of flowing water provided along the way for refreshment.

            That’s where the two stories converge, as the one who provided manna and quails and water from the rock way back in that other wilderness, promises refreshment for the journey home about to begin. The new story is the old story in a new time and place. The God who saved is the God who saves.  Writes Professor Tull: “The new situation, a desert rather than a sea, had brought forth the old story in new ways. ‘Do not remember’ becomes a call to loosen Israel’s grip on things as they were, and to expect some-thing new, but nevertheless recognizable in terms of the past.”[v]       

            The timing of this reading on this next-to-last Sunday in Lent couldn’t be better could it?  Last week our pastor asked us all to consider and remember how we made it through two plus years of pandemic produced isolation and inactivity.  He also shared the words of a webinar presenter who said to tell anyone longing go back to the way things were in 2019: “the bridge is out.”

This week the words of the prophet offer a word of comfort and encouragement and challenge. The challenge is not to get so caught up in reminiscing about what was that we fail to recognize how God is at work now. The encouragement comes by recognizing it isn’t all up to us.  And the comfort is found in knowing what God has done, God is doing, and will continue to do. The words of hymn writer Isaac Watts sum it up: “Our God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come.”

            Based on this congregation’s history, if God were speaking today like God did in Isaiah’s time it might sound like this:

            “Thus says the Lord,

who helps you continue the legacy of “the efforts of a small group of women, whose initiative and dedication resulted in this church’s formation;”

who leads you on after turning “aprons, quilts, baked goods, candy, live chickens and pigs” into the bricks and mortar of a thrice expanded building erected on parcels of land traded for so as not to be disturbed by the noise and dust of the trolleys on the main drag;

who opens your hands to feed the hungry, and resettle refugees, and opens your mouths to teach the children and adults the way they should go:

            Do not remember the former things or consider the things of old.
            I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it.”

What will that new thing look like?  Only God knows, but God is in the business of revealing to those with eyes to see what they are called to do and be. That’s why we join the faithful follower who penned the words of the 126^th Psalm, a version of which we sang earlier as our Psalter.

                      “When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion we were like those who dream.
                        Then our mouth was filled with laughter and our tongue with shouts of joy;
                        then it was said among the nations, 'The Lord has done great things for them.'
                        The Lord has done great things for us, and we rejoiced."

The person who wrote those words looked back to a time when God’s blessings had been flowing and made of those memories a prayer filled with visions of transformation and renewal.

                       “Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like the watercourses in the Negeb.
                        May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy.
                        Those who go out weeping bearing the seed for sowing,
                        shall come home with shouts of joy carrying their sheaves (of wheat).

            The Psalmist’s use of the past to open our eyes in the present cautions us not to get caught up in the remembering, which is so easy to do!

Every April there is a part of me that looks back wistfully remembering the energy and enthusiasm shared with my high school classmates as we approached our Board of Education for permission to suspend classes and replace them with an Environmental Teach-In on the first Earth Day.  I recall the fun we had as we named ourselves “SEA - Students for Environmental Action” and made three cages of two-by-fours and chicken wire to receive the clear, brown and green glass that took a whole month to fill as people of our two towns warmed to the idea of recycling. The trip down memory lane leads to an personal lament that we’re still engaging in debates about individual and societal changes necessary to protect the environment.

        Time to stop remembering. Time to look around.    

        I came to church last Sunday and found a four page brochure in the bulletin entitled, “Earth Care and Us.” It listed no less than nine opportunities to learn about or get involved in preserving “the beauty of the earth…the glory of the skies…the love which from our birth over and around us lies.”[vi] Tues-day afternoon, I walked through the park in Clifford Township, with a branch of the pristine, Tunk-hannock Creek rippling to my right. To my left a recycling truck  emptied three green dumpsters of cans, bottles and paper recycled weekly.  On Wednesday my wife and I will travel to visit family in a community where curbside recycling includes two more containers: one for yard waste, and another for food scraps.

            So, I repent of my lamenting, and give thanks for the opportunity to perceive the new things God is doing. That is the task ahead of us as the people of God who worship and serve in this time and place: To look for and celebrate and participate in the new things God springs forth around us and through us. To mine the past for the wisdom that knows there is no way to go but God’s way!

---

i] Patricia K. Tull, Connections – A Lectionary Commentary for Preaching and Worship, Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2018), p. 94
[ii] ibid.
[iii] Claus Westermann, Isaiah 40 -66, The Old Testament Library, (Philadelphia, The Westminster Press, 1969), p. 128
[iv] ibid.
[v] ibid., Tull, p. 95
[vi] Folliot S. Pierpoint, “For the Beauty of the Earth,” verse 1, Glory to God The Presbyterian Hymnal, Hymn 14

 

    

What a Difference the Lord Makes!                  Luke 5. 1-11                                    February 6, 2022
                                                Hickory Street Presbyterian Church, Scranton, PA

             Everyone who has had a long day of fishing with nothing much to show for it has heard some-one tell them: “That’s why they call it ‘fishing’ and not ‘catching!’” My brother-in-law Steve and I have had many of those days over the years. Before he and my wife’s sister moved to North Carolina we spent quite a few days fishing from the jetties along the Jersey shore or out in Raritan Bay after he bought his first boat.  Some days we came back to our wives and children with fresh fish for dinner.  On others, all we had to show for a day by the water was a sunburn.

            A couple of years back when we went south to meet our niece’s baby boy, I got a North Carolina visitor’s fishing license so Steve and I could go for Striped Bass as they made their spawning run on a river two hours from Raleigh. For a couple of days before, Steve would call me into his home office and show me videos on his computer of the spot we were going to fish…or read a report by one of his fishing buddies about which spots were hot and which ones were not, complete with GPS coordinates or landmarks above or below the boat launch we would be using.

            Wednesday arrived, sunny and warm. We drove to the Roanoke River and found it running high and fast due to recent rains.  We unloaded the boat from the trailer, set-off and fished all morning with barely a bite. Noontime came and went as we floated downstream, ran back upstream, and let the current take us down again.  Nothing.  Then, just when we were about to head back to the launch we began to boat some fish.  Since it was catch and release, we didn’t bring anything home…but at least we had some pictures to verify that we had been “catching” and not just “fishing.”

            Today’s reading from the Gospel of Luke has some of both.  We don’t know it at first, but the fishermen whose boat Jesus borrowed had done a night’s worth of fishing without catching.  By story’s end, they have fished so successfully that two boats were needed to haul their catch to shore.  What a difference the Lord makes.

            I’m liking Luke more and more all the time.  What I like about Luke is the way he tells the story of Jesus. Though he tells some of the same stories as Mark and Matthew, when he tells them, and the way he tells them is less magical and mystical and more realistic.  Take the call of the Galilean fishermen to become his disciples which comes after a time spent teaching the crowds and that very successful fishing trip.

            When Matthew and Mark tell of Jesus coming upon some fisherman as he walked beside the Sea of Galilee, there has been no prior contact between them. Matthew and Mark report that Jesus had begun preaching his message, and next thing you know he’s addressing Simon and Andrew, then James and John, inviting them to “fish for people.” They leave their nets and follow. Bing, bang, boom.

            In Luke, by the time Jesus invites the fishermen to seek a different species, they have had an opportunity to see him in action and hear him speak.  Between last week’s report of the visit Jesus made to the synagogue in his hometown of Nazareth, and this week’s story by the sea, Luke reports a series of events which would have given Peter and the others a basis for their vocational change.

            In what some have called “a day in the life of Jesus,” we join Luke and follow along as Jesus makes his way to Capernaum, a seaside village on the north shore of the Sea of Galilee (which Luke calls Gennesaret.) It is again the Sabbath, and Jesus is again found in the synagogue, and, as elsewhere, )at least everywhere but Nazareth), the people “were astounded at his teaching because he spoke with authority” (4.31-32).

            While he was teaching that day, a man with what Luke describes as “an unclean demon” cries out, having recognized that Jesus is the Holy One of God.” Jesus rebukes the demon, which is banished, and the man is restored to health and wholeness. The people are amazed and spread the word of Jesus and the healing power he brings. What a difference the Lord makes.

            When the Sabbath observance at the synagogue was over Jesus went to Simon’s house. We don’t yet know who Simon is or what he does for a living. What we soon learn is that Simon’s mother-in-law is sick with a high fever and members of the household ask Jesus about her.  Now he rebukes the fever, and the sick woman gets up and starts helping to serve dinner.

            After dessert there is a knock on the door and the street is filled with people bringing people to be touched and healed by Jesus. They’ve heard what he has done elsewhere and earlier that day in synagogue. Healings abound and more demons are sent packing before Jesus calls it a day.

            Come morning they’re looking for more of the same, but Jesus has found a deserted place, presumably to pray and gather his thoughts.  They find him and urge him to stay in Capernaum…but he makes it clear that he must go and teach others about the kingdom of God, and off he goes. Chronology is never a big concern for Luke, so when we get to the story read today, it is not clear how much time has elapsed since he left Capernaum behind. Luke’s concern is to describe what happened, not when.

            What is clear is that Jesus has learned something about crowd control and minimizing the risk of being crushed by those who came to hear him or to seek his healing touch.  There is a place not far from Capernaum that today is called “Peter’s landing”.  It is a nice little spot where boats can be easily beached. The land rises up from the side of the lake forming a natural amphitheater. When you stand there it is easy to picture today’s story taking place. All you have to do is block out the sight of the lovely little chapel someone built on the site in tribute to what tradition says occurred on that spot.

            With the crowd pressing in on him, Jesus steps into Simon’s boat, and asks the fisherman, who is over washing his nets with his partners, to put out a ways from the shore. Here is what is special about that scene. Luke has preserved a precious moment, capturing the fishermen doing what fishermen need to do.  On an episode of the television program “The Last Alaskans,” a couple who spend part of their year fishing and trapping in the northeast corner of Alaska were doing something similar.  The Selden’s were preparing to redeploy their net to catch salmon during their spawning run in order to provide food for their sled dogs.  But first, they had to clean their nets of the debris that had collected in them the previous day.

            As with any other occupation, or avocation for that matter, there are things that need to be done in order for that work or that play to be successful and enjoyable. It is worth noting that Luke shows the soon-to-be-disciples doing the preparation and follow-up their work required. Soon they would be learning the tricks of a new trade which would be just as necessary if they were to do their tasks well.

            Simon sets the net-cleaning aside and responds to the request of Jesus.  He and the others row the boat from the shore. Jesus sits down in the posture of a teacher and class begins.  The content is not mentioned. By the time we finish Luke’s gospel we’ll have had some examples of the kind of stories he told and the lessons he imparted. For now it is important only to notice this: his teaching, which began in their synagogues, is not confined to them.  All the world becomes his classroom, and those invited to hear are not limited to those who feel comfortable or welcomed in the official holy places. He is model-ing the movement for God’s people, who are to go out into the world to serve.

            When the lesson is done, Jesus provided himself with an exit strategy that avoids making his way through the crowd.  That, and it turns out he is not done teaching. He turns to Simon and says: “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”

            Not, “let’s go fishing,” but “let down your nets for a catch.” Now we learn that those nets Simon and the others were washing had been out all night with only the seaweed, flotsam and jetsam they were shaking out to show for it.  Read into Simon’s first words what you wish: no doubt he is tired from the fruitless night; and maybe he’s skeptical that the carpenter turned teacher knows anything about fishing; or maybe he’s hoping to change the mind of Jesus when he says, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing.”

            Yet, Simon doesn’t stop there, as if to say, “please, let us call it a day!” He goes on: “Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”  Tired or not, skeptical or not, reluctant or not, there is in Simon’s words and the actions that followed, obedience. He said he would do what Jesus said, and then he did. Over the side went the net, down into the deep. Then, the nets began to fill and stretch and the strings were beginning to break, so they signal the Zebedee boys to come over and help, and soon both boats were a teeming mass of fish so heavy the boats were nearly swamped from the weight.  What a differ-ence the Lord makes!

            The difference started to add up in Simon Peter’s mind. The healings he witnessed, the teachings he heard and the abundance spilling out of the boats causes Peter to recognize that he is witnessing the power of God unleashed through Jesus.  Like Isaiah in the temple, Simon is over-come by the contrast between the extraordinary nature of God and his own ordinariness as a human being. As others in the gospels will do, he seeks to put some distance between himself and goodness in the flesh. “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”

            This expression, one scholar notes, “is not a moral confession of a sinful life; it expresses awe in the presence of a manifestation of Jesus’ identity as agent of God’s rule and empire.”[i] When we step back and remember that this is part of a biblical call story, we are able to check off the steps in the process.  Our scholar points out that Simon Peter and the others have been witness to “an epiphany or revelation of the Divine,” they have reacted with objections in the form of pointing to their all night empty nets, and now Simon speaks of unworthiness.[ii]

            Next there will be reassurance and a commission. Jesus says to them: “Do not be afraid, from now on you will be catching people.” The final step in the call process is acceptance or obedience: “When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.”

            The nice thing about that last phrase in Luke is this. There is reason for them to drop everything and follow. They’ve seen the works, they’ve heard the words, they are experiencing the abundance that comes to those who follow.  It makes sense.  And though the story is not asking everyone to literally do the same, it does, as another commentator puts it, “raise the question of what we are to do with our lives.”[iii] Will we or will we not follow Jesus?

            In the book that has challenged and inspired generations, The Cost of Discipleship, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote: “Only he who believes is obedient, and only he who is obedient believes.  The first step of obedience makes Peter leave his nets, and later get out of the ship; it calls upon the young man to leave his riches. Only this new existence, can make faith possible.”[iv]

            In just a few minutes we’ll be singing a hymn that has become a favorite of mine.  Jane Parker Huber’s first line sums it up nicely: “Called as partners in Christ’s service.”[v] It summons us to come and follow Jesus. Yet it is not a summons to leave behind who you are and what you do, but to put who you are and what you do to work for Christ. Your call is to be God’s agent where you are.  Since none of us cast nets, that means we are called to do what we can in the midst of our daily lives—

So do what you do for God: interact with your co-workers and customers; let your volunteer commitments become your mission field; teach your students, learn your lessons; make the gifts you give away, counsel your clients, answer those e-mails, choose wisely the Facebook memes you like and share; keep serving those meals to your hungry neighbors. As the Paul told the Colossians: “…whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”[vi]

            As you do, like Simon Peter and the others, discover what a difference the Lord makes when we trust his word and obey his commands.  Amen.

[i] Warren Carter, Connections – A Lectionary Commentary for Preaching and Worship, Year C, Vol. 1, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2018), p. 236
[ii] ibid.
[iii] Blair R. Monie, Connections – A Lectionary Commentary for Preaching and Worship, Year C, Vol. 1, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2018), p. 238
[iv] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship, (New York: Touchstone, 1959) p. 63-64
[v] Jane Parker Huber, “Called as Partners in Christ’s Service,” Hymn # 343, The Presbyterian Hymnal, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1990)
[vi] Colossian 3. 17

Filled With the Spirit                          Luke 4. 14-21                               January 23, 2022

The late Mary Oliver wrote a poem entitled “The Wildest Storm. Her poem ends with three questions.                   

        Yesterday the wildest storm

        I ever witnessed flew past

        west to east, a shaggy

        howling sky-beast.

        flinging hail even as lightning

        printed out its sizzling

        unreadable language

        followed by truly terrible laughter.

        But, no. Maybe it wasn’t laughter

        but a reminder we need—

        seemingly something to do with power.

        What could it be? What could it be?

        What do you think it could be?[i] 

            The answer to all three of Mary Oliver’s questions is the same: “The answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind!”[ii] The wind of the Spirit, that is; specifically, the Holy Spirit. The author of the Gospel of Luke, and its companion, The Acts of the Apostles, features the Holy Spirit prominently, almost relentlessly. Witness the opening lines of today’s reading.

            Luke’s description of the beginning of Jesus’s ministry starts out like this: “Then Jesus, filled with the Holy Spirit returned to Galilee” (4:14).  Then, in his hometown synagogue, in front of his friends and neighbors and members of his family, Jesus’ reading from Isaiah begins like this: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me…” (4.18). Spirit filled, Spirit led, Spirit driven, Spirit empowered are recurring themes in Luke and Acts, first in the people who populate the birth stories, next in Jesus, then in the disciples, and finally in the descriptions of the early church. All of it summed up in Mary Oliver’s reminder, seen and heard in the storm, “seemingly something to do with power!” Like all the faithful ones who come to us on the sacred page, we too, require the Holy Spirit to fill us and fuel our efforts.

            Luke’s Gospel begins by telling of people who were, or would be, “filled with the Holy Spirit.” While putting in his shift in the temple at Jerusalem, the old priest Zechariah was told of a baby about to be conceived in his wife, Elizabeth’s womb, a child who would be “filled with the Holy Spirit,” and turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God,” (15-16).

            An angel of the Lord appeared to a young woman named Mary and told her she too would bear a son.  She asked how this could be and was told, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, (1: 35).  When she went to visit her pregnant cousin, the older woman’s child performed his first prophetic act by do-ing a prenatal somersault. Then Elizabeth was also “filled with the Holy Spirit,” and offered a blessing over her young visitor and the child being knit together in her womb.  When John the Baptist was born, Zechariah had his “filled with the Spirit” moment too, proclaiming what God would do through the two bouncing baby boys when they grew up.

            After Jesus was born, his parents obediently followed the steps outlined for the faithful of Israel, circumcising the child on the eighth day, dedicating their first born in the temple.  Along the way they encountered Simeon and Anna, two Spirit-led senior citizens, who confirmed the identity of Jesus as God’s anointed one.

            It is no surprise then, that when Jesus arrives on the scene, all grown up and ready to do all those Spirit powered things Spirit-filled people spoke about, the Spirit is leading the way.  The pattern set in his home as a child continues as he arrives back in Nazareth. Like his parents before him, Jesus is faithful in observing the traditions.  Luke tells us Jesus went to the synagogue on the Sabbath, “as was his custom.” That is not a throw-away line. Fred Craddock explains: “It is important first of all to allow the passage to remind us of that which Luke never tires of telling: all that Jesus says and does is within the bosom of Judaism. By his faithfulness, Jesus affirms the Sabbath, the Scriptures and the Syna-gogue.”[iii]

            On the place of the synagogue in Jewish life, Craddock adds: “This institution of Judaism ap-parently arose during the exile as a temple surrogate, but of course without altar or priest. Led by the laity, the Pharisees being the most prominent among them, the synagogue became the institutional center of a religion of the Book, not the altar, and in time became and remains today the dominant form of Judaism…The synagogue was not only an assembly for worship but also a school, a community center and a place for administering justice.”[iv]

            The importance of the Holy Spirit in the life of Jesus is hard to miss. After his baptism, while he was praying, the Spirit descended on him like a dove. Then, the Spirit led him into the wilderness where he faced testing to see if he would be true to his calling or abandon it under pressure. The Spirit gave him the power to say no to the shortcuts and power plays offered by Satan. Now, as his work of teach-ing begins, Luke is careful to note that Jesus wasn’t operating on his own steam: “Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee…and began to teach in their synagogues,”(4:14-15).

            Robert Brearley shines a spotlight so we won’t miss what Luke is doing here. “Now he is telling us of the Holy Spirit’s involvement in the life of Jesus as he steps forth in public ministry.  Even Jesus is not self-sufficient. He is dependent upon God for his life, faith, and mission.”[v] How about that!  The work of Jesus does not begin until the Holy Spirit has descended on him, led him where he need-ed to go, and filled him with all he needed to do what he was sent to do.

            Later, at the end of Luke’s Gospel, and at the beginning of, the Book of Acts, Jesus tells his disciples to wait for the Spirit: “You will receive power when the Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8).  What is good for the Teacher is good for the students too.

            If Jesus needed to pray for and wait for the Spirit to guide and empower his work; if the disciples needed to do the same, then we need to remember to preface our discerning and our doing by seeking the Spirit’s help. That is why we Reformed Protestants insist on beginning and ending our meetings with prayer.  It is not empty ritual. Like Jesus and the earliest disciples, we know that those who are connected to the vine, that is Christ, bear much fruit, and that apart from the flow of nutrients through the vine, we can do nothing. So it is necessary to remind each other frequently to seek and to wait for the Spirit to work on us and in us and through us.

            This will become increasingly important in the months ahead as your Interim Pastor arrives to help you discover the future direction of this congregation.  The pastor is not and should not be the only person lifting up your congregation’s future in prayer. Do your part, invite the Spirit’s help.  As that be-loved old hymn encourages, “Take it to the Lord in prayer.” And don’t worry about being eloquent, as Mary Oliver reminds us in a poem called “Whistling Swans:”

        Do you bow your head when you pray or do you look
            up into that blue space?
        Take your choice, prayers fly in all directions.
        And don’t worry about the language you use,
        God no doubt understands them all.
        Even when the swans are flying north and making
        such a ruckus of noise, God is surely listening
            and understanding.
        Rumi said, There is no proof of the soul.
        But isn’t the return of spring and how it
        springs up in our hearts a pretty good hint?
        Yes, I know, God’s silence never breaks,
            but is that really a problem?
        There are thousands of voices, after all.
        And furthermore, don’t you imagine (I just suggest it)
        that swans know about as much as we do about
            the whole business?
        So listen to them and watch them, singing as they fly.
        Take from it what your can.”[vi] 

Reflecting on the role of the Holy Spirit in the work of  Jesus and those who followed him leads professor Ruth C. Duck to ask:  “Why do we attempt to live as Christians without seeking the guidance, gifts and strength that the Holy Spirit brings?”[vii]

            Downstate from here, Pam McShane served for years as the pastor of two Presbyterian congre-gations in neighboring towns. In a story that is all too familiar, these congregations were aging, their numbers had dwindled, and the sustainability of each was questionable. They began to talk of merger since they already shared a pastor.  They engaged in a period of discernment to see if the Holy Spirit was leading them to come together. In time, the leadership of the two congregations agreed that it was, so they forged a plan to make it happen.

            Then came congregational votes. The move to merge was nearly unanimous in one congrega-tion. In the other, it was narrowly defeated. There was sadness all around as the congregations separ-ated. The pastor went half-time in the positive congregation and many from the other church joined with them as they continued to seek the Holy Spirit’s guidance for the future.

            That was a little over five years ago. Since then, their discernment led to the recognition of an underserved population of children and adults in their communities with special needs.  A Friday night dinner with musical entertainment was begun, designed to provide a place for these special needs neighbors to socialize.

            Some of those folks began to show up at Worship.    Modifications were made to the Sunday morning worship service to accommodate people who are not able to read a printed Call to Worship or Prayer of Confession. Tolerance of noise and restless activity has increased. A contest was held to re-name the revitalized church.  It is now called The Tree of Life Presbyterian Church, and gives every evidence of being filled with the Spirit.  Like every congregation, they have had to adapt during the pandemic, but creatively, compassionately, they have continued to carry on the work Jesus spoke of in the synagogue in Nazareth long ago.

            The importance of the work Jesus talked about that day is highlighted by the way Luke tells us about it. In broad strokes encompassing much movement over time, Luke set the scene: “Then Jesus, filled with the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the countryside. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone. (4: 14-15). Without details the story is swiftly told.

            But once he arrives in the synagogue, Luke slows the story to a crawl, adding details: Jesus stands to read and he is handed a scroll. Luke tells us the scroll is the one with the words of Isaiah. Jesus unrolls the scroll until he finds the passage he wants to read. The reading is read. Then, after the reading is concluded, every movement of Jesus is recorded: he rolled up the scroll, handed it to the attendant, and sat down.  Through it all, “the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him” (4:20).

            The actions before and after point like arrows to the words carefully chosen from 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.”

             His neighbors, friends and family were all waiting to hear what he will have to say about this servant song from Isaiah. Just by choosing it, he has given voice to words which define what he sees to be his Messianic mission. When the servant claims the Lord has “anointed me” he is saying the Lord “made me the Christ.”  Fred Craddock spells out what the passage Jesus read means: “When understood literally, the passage says the Christ is God’s servant who will bring to reality the longing and hope of the poor, the oppressed, and the imprisoned. The Christ will also usher in the amnesty, the liberation and the restoration associated with the proclamation of the year of jubilee.”[viii]

            But wait, there’s more! The very first word Jesus says after he sits down…the very first words we hear him say after his tussles with Satan, the very first word recorded as part of his “teaching in their synagogues” is “today.” “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

            Blair Monie, who mentored many a Presbyterian pastor writes: “Note that the first word spoken by the public Jesus in Luke’s gospel, other than the reading of Isaiah, is ‘today’—not yesterday, not tomorrow, not someday…A stress of immediacy pervades Luke’s Gospel. The time of divine action is always now. This today continues throughout Jesus’ ministry.  Now is always the time to release the captive, to give sight to the blind, to free the oppressed, to pro-claim the year of the Lord’s favor.”[ix]

            The immediacy Monie speaks of is timely. Last Monday we paused to celebrate the life of a man who knew the importance of “today;” a man who knew that when push came to shove (literally!) the time to speak up is now. Monie explains: “When Martin Luther King Jr. gave his clarion call for racial justice, some wanted to be supportive of his cause but feared acting too soon. Their message was, in essence, that it was a good idea but the time was not right. They told him to wait. Then, in his ‘Letter from Birmingham Jail,’ he replied, ‘This “Wait” has almost always meant “Never.” We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that “justice too long delayed is justice denied.”’”[x]  Sadly, any idea that Dr. King’s dream has been realized has been dispelled by new manifestations of racism of late. The work of making King’s dream a reality is still something to pursue each day.

            For almost two years now, the “today” of Jesus’ mission statement has been before our eyes. Food insecurity came out of the shadows as workplaces closed their doors and children couldn’t get breakfast or lunch while at school.  Blind eyes saw the need for food pantries to expand their hours.  Churches and restaurateurs packed to-go meals to proclaim good news to the poor in the form of fresh produce, a tasty meal, and other necessities.

            “Today” is always the day to continue the work of Jesus. After the initial months of lock down and precaution, and the advent of vaccines and boosters, good folks, filled with the Spirit, have found ways to mask up and begin projects to help others now rather than wait for some distant day when the all clear is sounded.  Quilters are making bedding for the homeless; clothing and home goods have been gathered for victims of flood, fire and wind. And we’ve heard today some of what the people of Cove-nant Presbyterian Church, filled with the Spirit, will be doing with the canned goods collection for Safety Net before your next concert, and your participation in the SouperBowl Sunday Offering.

            Now, we end as we began with words from Mary Oliver, this time from a poem called “The Gift,” which suggests how to live filled with the Spirit.                   

Be still, my soul, and steadfast

Earth and heaven both are still watching

though time is draining from the clock

and your walk, that was confident and quick

has become slow.

So, be slow if you must, but let

the heart still play its true part.

Love still as once you loved, deeply

and without patience. Let God and the world

know that you are grateful

That the gift has been given.”[xi]

[i] Mary Oliver, “The Wildest Storm,” Felicity, (New York, Penguin Books, 2016), p. 23
[ii] Bob Dylan, © 1962, M. Witmark & Sons
[iii] Fred B. Craddock, Luke – Interpretation- A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching, (Louisville, John Knox Press, 1999), p. 61
[iv] ibid., p. 62
[v] Robert M. Brearley, Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 1, (Louisville, Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), p. 284
[vi] ibid., Oliver, p. 29
[vii] Ruth C. Duck, Feasting on the Gospels, Luke, Vol. 1, Chapters 1-11, (Louisville, Westminster John Knox Press, 2014,) Pastoral Perspective, p. 98
[viii] ibid., Craddock, p. 62
[ix] Blair Monie, “Commentary 2: Connecting the Reading with the World,” Connections, A Lectionary Commentary for Preaching and Worship, (Louisville, Westminster John Knox Press, 2018), p. 207
[x] ibid., plus Martin Luther King, Jr., “Why we Can’t Wait” (New York: Harper and Row, 1964) p. 83
[xi] ibid., Oliver, p. 77