Preached · November 30, 2013
Series · Advent 2013
Text · Luke 4
Introduction: What Is Advent?
As we were talking about a little bit earlier, we are in the first Sunday, the first week of Advent. Advent is a Latin word that means "coming." Advent equals coming. And when we, as the church, celebrate Advent, it actually means a couple of different things for us.
First of all, we remember the coming of Jesus almost two thousand years ago — as a baby, as the child of Mary, miraculously conceived, the virgin birth. We remember all of those things: the shepherds and the wise men and the angels. But when we talk about Advent, we don't only remember; we also anticipate. We anticipate the second coming of Jesus. Because we, as a church, as Christians, have this what-could-be-considered-wacky faith that Jesus not only came, but he's coming back. He not only came as a child, lowly and meek, but he will come again as a king, strong, as the ruler of the world.
And so that is the season we are in right now. The church year begins today, and it begins with this season of remembering and anticipating, of looking back and looking forward. This is what kicks off the entirety of our identity for the year. This is why we have this season — not just out of tradition, not just out of rote, not just out of memory — because it's a really good way to remember who we are as Christians: people who have been saved, people who will be saved.
In other words, Advent is about good news. It's about gospel. So what is this good news? What is this gospel? Who is it for? Who makes it happen? These are the questions we want to explore over this season, over the next four weeks. Today will be all about setting the stage — getting us ready to hear these messages of hope and expectation and joy.
The Best News You've Ever Heard
So let me ask you a question. What is the best news that you've ever heard? For some of you, it may have been the time you got to hear "It's a boy" or "It's a girl." For some of you, it may have been the time you heard "the cancer is gone." For some of you, it may have been the time you heard that a debt you had is finally paid for. Or when a boyfriend or girlfriend finally said yes. When you got a promotion. When somebody accepted your offer on a home. When a spouse came back home. When you got that school or job acceptance letter. When the adoption agency said, "We have some pictures for you to see."
So we're going to do something a little bit different, because we have some time this morning. You probably came with a couple of people you know, or maybe you're surrounded by some people you don't know. I invite you to talk to two or three people and tell them about the best news you've ever heard. Now, some of you are introverts and are very angry with me right now. Remember that I'm an introvert, and I'm talking to five hundred of you. So one of you introverts can talk to one other of you. Okay — take a couple of minutes, turn to somebody next to you. What is the best news you've ever heard? Go.
All right, thank you for doing that. I got to hear some laughs; that's too much fun. So does anybody want to shout out some of the good stories you heard? Just a phrase. What was the best news you ever heard? "Cancer-free." Ah, that's good news. Hallelujah. What else? "We're saved." Yeah, that was good news. "They have a liver for your wife." Hallelujah. Over this way — "This family's getting a new home." That was good news.
Okay, this is good news, right? This is news we're celebrating. This is news that we just hear a phrase and we get it. It clicks. We want to celebrate with them. "Cancer-free." "We're finally home." "We're saved." "They have a liver for my wife." These are good stories that make us want to cheer.
Now, next question for you. What's the best news that you've ever heard, but you didn't believe? Or you didn't believe the person saying it? Or you didn't believe that it was for you, that it was intended for you? Probably the example that most easily comes to mind is those telemarketers that call and say, "You've won a vacation." How many of them have we hung up on? I'm hoping they were all lying; otherwise, we all missed out.
The other one that comes to mind — a really silly example — is that, I don't know if you know this, but there are a couple of companies right now planning trips to Mars for civilians. They're gathering together teams of doctors and engineers and scientists, and they want to send people to create a colony on Mars. And you probably don't know this about me, but one of my lifelong dreams is to be in space. I don't have the physique for it, but I really want to go to space someday. My wife Emily and I went to see the movie Gravity — anybody see the movie Gravity? It's this absolutely horrifying film that clears out your arteries, because your heart is beating so fast the entire time; they're in space, and every possible thing that could go wrong goes wrong. We walk out of the theater, and Emily's like, "Are you finally convinced yet that space is not for you?" And I said, "No, because did you see how pretty it was? It was so pretty." So, for whatever reason, the application came up on these companies' websites, and I'm like, "Emily, we could sign up." And she said, "Anthony, this may be good news, but this is not intended for you."
Now here's the third question. What is the time when you needed to hear good news the most? What's the time in your life when you were so desperate, so needy, so worn out, so tired, so poor, that you really needed a piece of good news? Each of us has a story like that as well. And those stories aren't nearly as likely to bring up cheers and clapping and laughter. Was it in the halls of a hospital? At a table? At a bank? In the manager's office? When was the time that you needed to hear good news the most?
These are the themes we're exploring over the next four weeks: themes of hope and expectation and potential joy. This is what Advent is about.
Luke 4: Jesus Goes Home
So to explore these themes, we're going to take a look at Luke chapter 4. If you have your Bibles, I encourage you to turn there; it's also going to be on the screen. We're going to tell a story about Jesus, because that's what Advent is about: this man, God, named Jesus. Luke, early on in his narrative about Jesus — Luke was a historian, and so he sat down to write out stories about Jesus in chronological order — early on in his history of Jesus, he puts out this story:
And Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. And he began to teach in their synagogues, and was praised by everyone. And he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up. And he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, as was his custom.
So Galilee is the region he's from. Jesus goes back home, to his hometown.
What Was a Synagogue Like?
So let's talk about synagogues. Where we're going to be camping out for the next four weeks is in this Scripture, Luke chapter 4 — a story of Jesus going home, to his hometown, and teaching in a synagogue. And he has a message to tell. So in order to really set the stage for what's happening, I want you to get an idea of what synagogues were like a couple thousand years ago.
If you were an observant Jew, at least once a week you would go, on the Sabbath — Saturday — to your local synagogue. The reason synagogues even existed is because the Jews had this history where they had a tabernacle, and then a temple, and then that temple was destroyed and the Jews were scattered across the land. The temple was the primary place where they would do worship, offer sacrifices, offer prayers, do coronations for the king. But this temple had been decimated, absolutely destroyed, taken apart brick by brick. So the Jews, spread across the world at this point, started to build these little houses of prayer. If they couldn't be people who made sacrifices at a temple in Jerusalem, they would make the sacrifice of praise and prayer. These synagogues began to be built around little towns. Eventually the Jews came back to the land of Israel, and the Greeks and then the Romans eventually allowed them to build a temple, and they had a temple back — but they still did worship at the synagogues on a weekly basis.
"Synagogue" is just a Greek word; it means a gathering of people, an assembly. People would assemble together in these rooms — sometimes just houses, sometimes special rooms dedicated for worship. Men and women would be separated: men on the floor, women on a balcony if they had one, or just in the back of the room. They would always face Jerusalem — which, as luck would have it, we are facing. We're facing east, right? Make sure I don't look like an idiot. Yeah, okay, facing east. These meetings would last three to four hours, with much prayer and singing of psalms. So today's service will last about three to four hours, just to give you an idea. No, I'm kidding.
The Order of a Synagogue Service
So we're going to go through a synagogue service. They were very simple. They followed the same format every week, and they were centered on the recitation of Scripture. From early on, if you were a Jewish child, you would memorize books upon books of what we call the Old Testament — what they just called their Scriptures. They memorized these because they centered their worship. They understood Yahweh, their God, our God, through their understanding of Scripture.
The first thing they would do is gather together and say the Shema. Let me hear you say it: Shema. Shema is a Hebrew word; it means "hear" or "listen." It's a call to pay attention. And it's the opening word of this prayer from Deuteronomy that they would say every day — sometimes three to seven times a day. This is just a small portion, but let's pray it together:
Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.
Then, once they were done with that, they would say the Amidah. Let me hear you say it: Amidah. This is a word for benedictions. There was a prayer that rose up in the first century called the Eighteen Benedictions — it's called the Eighteen Benedictions, but it actually has nineteen of them. Don't ask; long story. We're going to say three of them this morning. So, together:
Look upon our affliction and plead our cause, and redeem us speedily for your name's sake.
Now remember, this is a people that has been exiled, persecuted, killed, slaughtered. They've had king after king, ruler after ruler. So when you're praying a prayer like this, you mean it heartily, with emotion, with devotion, from the bottom of your gut — because this is your story. Look upon our affliction and plead our cause. Let's continue:
For you, our mighty Redeemer — blessed art thou, O Lord, the Redeemer of Israel.
Next, together:
Heal us, O Lord, and we shall be healed. Save us, and we shall be saved, for you are our praise. Grant a perfect healing to all our wounds.
And then there would be a prayer for the sick. So let's just take a moment and remember the sick in some silent prayer. Let's continue:
For you, almighty King, our faithful and merciful physician — blessed art thou, O Lord, who heals the sick of your people Israel.
So you'll notice that every one of these prayers ends with "blessed art thou, O Lord." That's why they're called the Eighteen Benedictions; benedictions means blessings. Final one, together:
Bless this year unto us, O Lord our God, with every kind of the produce for our welfare. Give dew and rain for a blessing upon the face of the earth. O satisfy us with your goodness, and bless our year like other good years. Blessed art thou, O Lord, who blesses the years.
So this is the farmer's prayer, right? So you gather together in synagogue. The men and the women are separated. You sing some psalms, then recite the Shema and the Amidah. And then this would be the center of the service: you would have a Torah reading. Let me hear you say it: Torah. You guys are going to be Hebrew-speaking by the end of tonight. Torah is the Hebrew word for "law" or "instruction," and it typically refers to the first five books of what we call the Old Testament.
So Jesus goes back to his hometown, goes to the synagogue. They would have said the Shema and the Amidah, and there would have been a Torah reading. Let's pretend, for the sake of imagination, that this was the Torah reading for the day. This comes from the book of Leviticus chapter 25:
Have the trumpet sounded everywhere on the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you. Each of you is to return to your own family property and to your own clan. The fiftieth year shall be a jubilee for you. Do not sow, and do not reap what grows of itself, or harvest the untended vines. For it is a jubilee, and it is to be holy for you. Eat only what is taken directly from the fields.
So you'd gather together, say the Shema and the Amidah, and then have a Torah reading. And then Jesus stands up to read for what's called the haftarah — the reading after the Torah, which would typically be from the prophets.
Jesus Reads from Isaiah
So Jesus stood up to read. We're back in Luke chapter 4 now. And the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. Jesus unrolls it and finds the place where it is written — this is Isaiah chapter 61. Let's stand and say this together: […]
And, typically in a synagogue, you would have candles lit, and these candles represent the presence of God in this place.
Then Jesus rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. And the eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him.
You can be seated. Now, I remember growing up reading this passage, and I was super curious about it. Jesus reads the Scripture, gives the scroll back to the attendant, and sits down. And I thought, "Well, that's kind of goofy. What would happen if I just read some Scripture and sat down? You would think I'd gone nuts." And everybody's eyes are fastened on him; they're all staring at Jesus. But what I didn't know was that it would be typical for a teacher at a synagogue to have an assistant read the Scripture, and then to sit down and teach — which is actually a motion you see Jesus do a lot. For the Sermon on the Mount, he goes up to a mountain, sits down, and teaches his disciples. When the crowds have followed him and are all very hungry, he has them all sit down, and he sits down and passes out the bread and the fish. So in this setting, they're probably a good hour into their service. Jesus reads from Isaiah chapter 61, sits down, and instructs them.
And he begins by saying to them, "Today, this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing." Now, your translations, if you have Bibles in front of you, translate the next part a bunch of different ways. The way I would argue it should be translated is: "All testified about him." They were talking about him. So you can imagine him saying, "Today, this scripture has been fulfilled," and then whispers break out — "all testified about him." And they were amazed — not necessarily in a good way — at the words of grace that came from his lips. "Isn't this Joseph's son?" they asked.
So Jesus goes back home, goes to the synagogue as was his custom, delivers the word. He says, "Today, the scripture is fulfilled in your hearing." And then whispers begin to break out: "We know who you are. You're the carpenter's boy. You can make a decent cabinet, sure. But now you have the audacity to preach to us in our own synagogue." And we see, if we were to keep reading this passage, that Jesus continues teaching for a little bit, and the crowd gets more and more incited. The reason I would argue that word should be translated "testified" — that they were amazed in not a very happy way — is that they try to kill Jesus by the end of this story, because they're so offended by his message. And they're so offended not only by his message, but by who's delivering it: a boy, some thirty-year-old punk who makes some decent cabinets but now has the audacity to preach.
Jubilee: Luke 4, Isaiah 61, Leviticus 25
So what is this all about? Well, I would argue this is about jubilee. Luke chapter 4 is about Isaiah 61. And Isaiah 61 is about Leviticus 25. And Leviticus 25 — this old, ancient law that God had given to the Israelites four thousand years ago — was about this concept called jubilee.
The Israelites had this basic structure set up into their year. Every seven days, you had a Sabbath: you would rest, you wouldn't farm, you wouldn't work. And every seven years, you would practice a Sabbath year: the farmers wouldn't plant their fields; they'd let them lie fallow. You wouldn't plant, you wouldn't gather; you would have stored up over the past six years enough to rest for an entire year. (This, by the way, is where we get the word "sabbatical.") And then they had a concept that every seven-times-seven years, on the fiftieth year, you would have a Sabbath of Sabbaths, which they called jubilee.
Four things would happen on jubilee. Number one: all slaves would be freed. Slavery worked a little differently back then — it wasn't the chattel slavery of old America or the slave market around the world; it was more of an indentured-servant kind of thing. You would free slaves every seven years, and sometimes slaves would choose to stay on their own accord. But then, on year fifty, no matter what, those slaves would be freed and given a payment: "Hey, go start your own family, your own house."
Number two: all debts would be canceled. If you were making payments on a piece of land or property or home, all those debts would be canceled, no questions asked. Number three: the land would lie fallow. You would not plant, you would not work the land; you'd just let it lie and get its nutrients back. And number four — this was the most radical — land would be returned to its original owners. The way this worked is that when Israel first came into the land called Canaan, or Palestine, Moses had divvied up all the land to the families and clans. Then over the course of fifty years, sometimes you'd make trades; sometimes farms would get a little big, because this is an agricultural society; sometimes farmers would have to pay debts and sell off their land. So at the end of fifty years, everything got a giant reset button pushed on it. If you used to own a hundred acres but now own only ten, and the guy next door owns 190 — jubilee. Now you both own a hundred again. Start from scratch. Don't make the same mistakes. Don't go into debt. Jubilee.
So Leviticus 25 is about that. And then Isaiah 61, which Jesus read, says this is about proclaiming the year of the Lord's favor. So Jesus goes back to Isaiah and says Isaiah said jubilee is going to happen again. And what we have to remember about jubilee is that Israel never, ever celebrated one — or at least we have no historical record of it. This is for a myriad of reasons: they had bad kings; they had selfish landowners; for a while they lost the law of God — it got hidden, it got lost; and then eventually they get put into exile and then come back. So this whole concept of jubilee is forgotten about. It's so unrealistic, so unnecessary — why would we ever do it?
Isaiah's promise of this jubilee happening never happened. He makes a prophecy about it, and four hundred years later, there's still no jubilee. So to Israel — who has been exiled, whose land doesn't belong to them anymore but belongs to the Romans, who have no land — Isaiah's promise of Leviticus 25 coming true is really, really good news. It may be just the best news they've ever heard.
Why the Message Was So Offensive
But then Jesus goes a step too far, and he says, "Today it's fulfilled in your hearing." So there are two really offensive things about this. Number one: jubilee has never happened. To any Israelite sitting in that synagogue, it would be pretty obvious that it's never happened, because there are Romans outside the door — they own the land, they're getting all the tax money. Who is Jesus to say that it's already happened? What kind of fool would say such a thing? Number two: who on earth is Jesus? He's the carpenter's boy. He's Joseph's son. Who does he think he is to say, "Oh, and by the way, jubilee has happened; all those debts you have, they're paid for; all that land that belongs to the Romans, it's yours again"? This is highly, highly offensive. And, to remind you, it's so offensive that they try to kill him.
Which, if you put yourself in the shoes of a Jew in that day, would make sense. Because you may not know this, but every once in a while men would come along and make claims like, "I am the son of God," or, "I'm the Messiah," or, "Israel is set free from captivity." And this never ended well. Every time, these guys would get some disciples together, and then those disciples would get killed and that leader would get killed or crucified or slaughtered — and Israel was still stuck just the way things had been. So if Jesus, Joseph's boy, the carpenter, comes to your church and says, "Jubilee has happened, and by the way, it's happening because of me," you might get a little anxious, a little nervous. Because if the Romans catch wind of this Jesus, son of Joseph, they might just come banging down your door: "Are you following him? You are? We're burning down your house. Are you following him? You are? We're putting you on a cross." So you might just get the idea, "We've got to tell this Jesus to stop. We've got to kill him now."
What Jesus is proclaiming sounds kind of pretty. It sounds like good Advent-y themes: the poor have good news, prisoners are set free. But to a Jew living under Roman occupation, this is word of insurrection. This is rebellion. This is stuff that could get you killed.
What Does This Have to Do with You?
So, two questions. What does this have to do with you, and what does this have to do with Advent?
Let's start with the first. I want you to imagine you are a Jew in this synagogue. You live in a small town. You're religious. You follow the Torah, every jot and tittle. You're moral. You stay out of trouble. You keep your nose clean. You're dedicated. You make the multiple journeys every year to Jerusalem to make sacrifices for Passover and Pentecost and Tabernacles and all the different feasts. And you're fairly generous. You pay your temple tax to make sure the temple keeps running. You pay your taxes to Caesar. You're a decent fellow, man or woman. And then Jesus makes the claim that jubilee — everything being reset — is happening because of him. How would you respond? Keeping in mind that other freedom fighters have tried this and it never ended well — how would you respond?
Now change the circumstances a bit. You're a good Christian. You live in a small town. You're religious. You do what you're supposed to. You're moral. You're dedicated. You go to your Christian conferences. You're generous. You pay your tithes and offerings. And then all of a sudden your pastor, or your worship leader, or your church, starts saying that the gospel — what "good news" means — is good news to the poor, freedom for the prisoners, healing for the sick. Wouldn't you get a little suspicious?
Because think about the actual implications. The poor is more than just those without financial resources. The poor is anyone who finds themselves at the mercy of someone more powerful. Let me say that again: the poor is anyone who finds themselves at the mercy of someone more powerful. So good news to the poor means that those we usually want to take advantage of should get the same preferential treatment that we think we deserve all the time. Freedom for the prisoners means that anyone we have ever made feel trapped, because we had the upper hand, gets to be free now. The ones we wish we'd never have to sit next to now have a place at the table.
Now, Jesus's third thing — recovery of sight to the blind, quoting from Isaiah 61 — this one's a little more complicated. You have to keep in mind that if you're an Israelite, sickness was a sign of God's punishment. At least that's what you thought. Now, Jesus, in the stories about him, proves that this is just not true. But this is what an Israelite thought was true: sickness was a sign of God's punishment. So for Isaiah, writing to an Israelite audience, to write, "Oh, and by the way, not only do the oppressed get free, not only do the prisoners get free, but all those people who are sick — sick because you think they've done some sin, that they deserve to be sick — they get a place at the table too; they also are free."
So think about the implications. What this message means is that our expected, acceptable, usual, respectable social order is being turned upside down. And all those social boundaries that we think are necessary for our little slice of society to work — what would you do if your church started to say, "God wants to tear those walls down"?
Now, some of you — a lot of you — I know your stories. Not so long ago, you were the outcast. You were the last person in the world that thought they'd be sitting in church this morning, and the last person anybody wanted to invite to church. This is recent enough for you to still remember. You're still thankful. So when you hear Jesus's message — good news for the poor — you can say, "Thank God."
But there are those of us who have been on this side of "God's chosen" for so long that when we hear this message, we have one of two responses. Number one: "Eh, old news; doesn't apply to me anymore." Or number two: "Yeah, sure, Jesus wants to save people — just as long as it doesn't upset my expectations of who can and can't be included." But what if — if we're the first response, "It doesn't apply to me anymore" — you remember that you're still poor, still imprisoned, because we are only here by God's grace, and God still wants to save us from our sins, from our brokenness, from the things we are enslaved to? Or, for the second response, "Sure, just as long as it doesn't upset my expectations" — what if you remember that your presence here upsets expectations?
What Does This Have to Do with Advent?
For a lot of us — at least for me — each year I go through Christmas, it tends to get a little bit less special. I've heard the Christmas story that many more times, sung the Christmas songs that many more times, planned that many more Christmas services, bought that many more gifts, received that many more gifts that I didn't need or want. I'm not much further along from remembering the time when I ever felt the need for Jesus in the first place, when Christmas felt special.
This passage, which according to Luke is fairly early in Jesus's ministry, is an antidote to all of that. Because it reminds us of so much.
One: it reminds us that those who are most comfortable in their religion need jubilee. Remember who Jesus is talking to: devout, religious Jews. They needed the message of freedom, of good news, just like anybody outside that synagogue. Christmas is for us. Number two: it reminds us that those we are most uncomfortable with also need jubilee. It reminds us that those we are most quickly able to set aside, to outcast, to get angry at — they need Advent just as much as we do. Number three: it reminds us that Advent is shocking. It reminds us that the idea of God become man, preaching a message of freedom, led some people to try to kill the messenger and the bringer of that good news. And number four: it reminds us that Advent isn't just warm and fuzzy. It tears apart the very fabric of society and hits a giant reset button on it. Debts are paid. Prisoners are set free. The poor — they're not poor anymore. The sick — they're not sick anymore.
Closing Questions
So, some final questions. As we kick off this season of Advent, we remember Jesus's message of jubilee — of good news to the poor, freedom for the prisoners, sight for the blind, freedom for the oppressed.
And so, what part of our own lives needs jubilee? Let's remember our definitions. To be poor is to be at the mercy of someone else. What part of your life is at the mercy of someone else? Who are you indebted to? Who have you not forgiven? Who are you still angry at, and you just can't stop? What part of your life is still imprisoned? What things hold on to you? What addictions grasp on so tightly that you have no control anymore? And where are we still blind? Where are we still inhibited by our own sin?
And number two: Who do we need to offer jubilee to? As a community? As a church? As a town? As a family? As individuals? There is no time that more sharply focuses our need to forgive people than the holidays. Because it's here that we're usually forced to get nice and cozy and comfy and close to some of those we're most uncomfortable with. And some of you are picking up that I'm talking about our own family. Do we need to offer jubilee to them? Is there a whole slice of society that we have written off, that we need to welcome back in? Is there a whole group of people? Is there a boss, or an employee? Is there a former friend that we need to say to, "God offered you freedom; who am I to hold it back"?
Advent is a time when the year resets. It's a time when Jesus gets to be so bold as to proclaim: jubilee is coming. Freedom is here, and it comes through him.
So I'm going to invite the ushers to come forward, and the worship team to make their way back to the platform. And I'm going to leave these two questions up on the screen for you to consider. I really would encourage you — you've got pieces of paper, and a lot of you have pens — start making some notes. What part of your life needs jubilee? Who do you need to offer jubilee to? And in our prayer for each other, if we can remember, pray for the person around you and next to you and on the platform and before you. God, help us offer jubilee, offer freedom, offer the reset button of Advent, to ourselves and to those around us.
Prayer
Let's pray. Gracious God, we thank you that you don't leave us where we are. That even when we were poor, when we were enslaved, when we were imprisoned, you were the kind of God that came and said, "No more. No more." So, Holy Spirit of God, we pray that you would empower us to take hold of the grace that reaches out toward us. That you would empower us to be a jubileed people, a freed people. And more than that, God, that you would empower us to be the kinds of people, to be the kind of church — to be the good-news church — that offers jubilee to our brothers and our sisters, our parents, our friends, and our communities. We pray this in your name. Amen.
This is a transcript of the sermon as preached, lightly edited for readability.
