Bread for the Journey, Wednesday in the Eighteenth Week after Pentecost

From the Daily Lectionary for Wednesday in the Eighteenth Week after Pentecost

Luke 7:18-35

The disciples of John reported all these things to him. So John summoned two of his disciples and sent them to the Lord to ask, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” When the men had come to him, they said, “John the Baptist has sent us to you to ask, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?’” Jesus had just then cured many people of diseases, plagues, and evil spirits, and had given sight to many who were blind. And he answered them, “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.”

When John’s messengers had gone, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: “What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who put on fine clothing and live in luxury are in royal palaces. What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written,


‘See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you,
   who will prepare your way before you.’


“I tell you, among those born of women no one is greater than John; yet the least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.” (And all the people who heard this, including the tax-collectors, acknowledged the justice of God, because they had been baptized with John’s baptism. But by refusing to be baptized by him, the Pharisees and the lawyers rejected God’s purpose for themselves.)

“To what then will I compare the people of this generation, and what are they like? They are like children sitting in the market-place and calling to one another.


‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;
   we wailed, and you did not weep.’

“For John the Baptist has come eating no bread and drinking no wine, and you say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man has come eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax-collectors and sinners!’ Nevertheless, wisdom is vindicated by all her children.”

We are seven chapters into Luke’s Gospel. It is always expedient in reading the Gospels to return to their respective prologues, because the prologue in biblical rhetoric predisposes the writer’s ensuing theme and agenda. The Gospel narrative must be interpreted in light of the prologue. At the heart of Luke’s prologue is Mary’s song, what we have come to know as the Magnificat. In that song Mary, the mother of Jesus, prophesies that at the birth of Jesus a new order has come; a new socioeconomic order in which the poor are raised up, and the rich sent away empty. She calls for a radical reversal in the system which will accord with God’s vision that all will have dignity, and, in which all will share in the abundance of creation. It is a dangerous challenge to the status quo. Then and now.

Her song echoes the soliloquy of Wisdom, the sacred Feminine, in the Book of Proverbs, as well as the song of Deborah at the birth of Samuel. In all of these prophecies there is a declaration that God’s coming reign will be marked by healing and justice and mutual well-being. For Luke this new age won’t be enacted by those in power; instead, this new age will come from the bottom up as a visceral response to injustice… from a disenfranchised people crying out for things to be set right. There is power among people. Here, John the Baptist, in his rustic persona, is “the people,” and serves as a contrast to the elite wealthy who live aloof in their palaces and opulence. He is reality. They are not.

It has forever been thus. The powerful have forever acquired and held on to their privilege on the backs of the powerless, the poor, the outcast, those of lower caste. Jesus’ vision for the world, heralded by John, calls for a social and economic revolution. Jesus after all was held as a political prisoner and executed as a traitor of the state. That makes the Gospel intensely political. How could we reason otherwise?

Tragically the church has largely abandoned its public responsibility in deference to keeping its flock of believers aloof from the world’s troubles, swaddled in the comfort of self-edification. I’ll say it again: Our faith is not personal; it is public. We belong amid the discourse and activism of our common life. To love our neighbor as we love ourselves is to be activists and advocates for the greater public good. That is what it means to be a part of the Jesus movement. Our authority comes from the wounded and left out of our world. God has a habit of showing up on the margins of life, where people hurt and suffer and despair; we must show up as well. And though many of us here at All Saints are relatively privileged, ours is to be in solidarity with those who are not.

We are approaching a new day in our democracy that is the United States of America. It is a dangerous time, but, ironically, rife with possibility. Now more than ever, the church, with its ancient vision of a just society, needs to be seen and heard. Let us covenant with sacred oath to do our part.

A Prayer for the Human Family (BCP p. 815)

O God, you have made us in your image and redeemed us through Jesus your Son: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred that infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you; through Jesus Christ our Savior.   Amen.