|
First
Reading
|
Psalm |
Epistle |
Gospel |
| Isaiah 58:9b–14
|
Psalm 71:1–6 |
Hebrews 12:18–29
|
Luke 13:10–17
|
During my recent vacation, I was able to worship at two very different Episcopal (Anglican) parishes. One was a tiny isolated parish at a highway crossroad, a hundred miles from any town. It was struggling to pay its bills, often depending on just one or two members to keep things going, and with a part-time priest, when the parish was fortunate to find one. The other was a large dynamic parish, the cathedral in downtown Vancouver, with wonderful resources and a very enthusiastic congregation blessed with a deep diversity of gifts.
Yet in both places I perceived that their respective communities were by far much better places because they were there and that a witness to God’s abiding grace was alive and operative in both of them. We will not all choose the same places to live. I know that I would find it difficult to live and thrive in the small parish and community in Haines Junction, but if I won the multimillion-dollar lottery, a condominium in Vancouver might be a possibility.
I increasingly marvel over where our journeys ultimately will take us. However, in some way, the judgment that comes to us all some day involves the question, have we tired to make this world a better place than we found it, as opposed to “how well have we feathered and fluffed up our own nest.” People of faith are called to bear witness of Good News, news of the healing power of repentance, forgiveness, and of humanity’s universal potential to choose life over death against all odds.
The point of the story of Jesus healing in the synagogue seems so obvious to us. However in the colophony of loud voices and the undertow of silent forces in the midst of our lives, it is so easy to protect our turf in order to come out in control and enhance our ego rather than rejoicing in the discovery of a new outbreak of God’s goodwill.
The synagogue leaders were not necessarily evil people or even people of ill will, but calluses seemed to have grown over their hearts. Unlike Jesus they did not seem to recognize the possibilities that God always holds. Jesus makes it clear that this woman was a daughter of Abraham, an expression affirming that she is a true part of a community. She is not an outcast, but part of a long heritage, and most important of all, she is part of God’s future. Her inheritance deserves to be recognized. After eighteen long years, healing and peace in her life break out. Moreover, it occurs during the community at prayer. How about that!
The question Jesus poses to the synagogue congregation is not “have you pleased the Jerusalem authorities, or have you followed all the rules, or is your paperwork in order,” but “what kind of witness have you been”. What kind of witness do you wish to be? That is the question for us at St. John’s as we take leave of some people and welcome others. We are known as the parish that feeds the hungry. How does that translate for us? If and when the hungry come, what will they find?
I consider being able to worship as a stranger and visitor in other places a great gift, for it always gives me a perspective that is so difficult otherwise. That is what I suspect Jesus was trying to provide to the people at the synagogue on the shores of Galilee so many years ago. It wasn’t simply a rebuke or condemnation of the synagogue leaders. Rather it was a reminder of the basic question of our purpose here on earth. What is on the menu here at 210 North Cayuga Street that truly feeds us and how does it nourish us to be effective witnesses once we leave this place.
It was good to get away. It was good to return. And it is always good to be part of a community of faith that considers the questions that always need to be asked.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
