Magnificat that the author of Luke uses in the first chapter. There is a strong emphasis on a reversal of the status quo, a turning-upside-down of the world as it currently stands in Jesus’s reading, which will become a trend in the gospel of Luke. Jesus’s dramatic declaration that this scripture “has been fulfilled in [their] hearing” makes clear what this gospel will focus on.
However, it is not just this opening quote from Isaiah that sets a tone for the gospel of Luke. After Jesus reads that scripture and makes his declaration, people receive him warmly; they are “amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth” and talk about his being “Joseph’s son.” In fact, it’s not clear why Jesus reacts to those comments by criticizing the Nazarenes and why he believes they do not (or will not) accept him. One possibility comes from their mentioning his being Joseph’s son, though, as they seem rather proud of that fact. One reading of this part of the story is that they are trying to claim him as their own, that they want to emphasize the fact that he’s one of them.
The rest of this passage certainly supports such a reading, as Jesus wants to make it clear to those in the synagogue that he has not come solely for the Israelites. He spends the rest of his time in the synagogue criticizing any focus on Israel as special, in fact. He reminds them that God has provided for surrounding countries in the past, even while not supporting Israel. He references Elijah and Elisha, two of the most important prophets, as if he is setting himself in their lineage. It’s easy to see that the author of this gospel simply wants to remind people that Jesus has come for the Gentiles as well as the Jews, but this passage goes well beyond that to show not just a broadening of Jesus’s message, but times where God ignored the needs of Israel.
Jesus, though, isn’t trying to say his ministry is not for the Jews, as his actions throughout this and the other gospels clearly show that it is. Instead, he wants to remind them that they are not exceptional, that they are part of an entire world that God loves and that Jesus will serve, so he draws on two well-known examples to do so. He is making it clear that the Messiah they expected—the one who would overthrow Rome and create a new Israel—is not who he will be. Instead, he will heal and feed everyone who needs healing and feeding, no matter where they come from or who they are.
The people of Nineveh from Jonah serve as a contrast to the Israelites in Luke, as they hear Jonah’s message, and they immediately repent. Where the Israelites are angry that Jesus has pointed out their shortcomings and react with violence, the Ninevites respond with repentance, proclaiming a fast and putting on sackcloth. These two responses definitely serve as examples of how individuals can respond, but they also illustrate how we talk and think about countries, as well.
On a regular basis, people in the public sphere have a debate about whether or not America is a “Christian nation.” Sometimes, that discussion comes around Christmas when there is a debate about whether people in retail or in service industries should wish people a Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays. Politicians often use America’s supposed Christian heritage when they are running for office or trying to pass bills that represent their view of Christianity (and of America), whether that be issues such as abortion and same-sex marriage or more directly faith-based legislation, such as prayer in schools.
All too often, Christian Americans respond as the Israelites, though, not as the Ninevites, taking any criticism of the way they blend their national and Christian identities as an attack on what they perceive to be the very foundations of both. While it doesn’t lead to anyone threatening to throw someone over a cliff, such discussions often lead to one attack after another on the other side, often labeling the other side as anti-American or anti-Christian or both. The cynical response to such debates is to see people as using both patriotism and faith as means to an end, not as the true motivating factor.
What can help Americans be both Americans and Christians, though, is the passage from Isaiah Jesus begins with. The reversal Jesus lays out should remind us all that God’s idea of power and strength doesn’t come from a strong political process or military might or even a robust democracy. Instead, God’s idea of power and strength comes from caring for those who are least able to take care of themselves. Being exceptional has nothing to do with where we are born or what our nationality is or even what those national roots are; it has everything to do with turning the world upside down, being willing to put others ahead of us. The only way to be exceptional in God’s kingdom is to care for the poor and the blind and the captives and the oppressed; that is how one proclaims the year of the Lord’s favor.
Questions for Reflection or Discussion:
Who or where are groups of people the church often ignores or even actively excludes? How can we do better at including them?
How can we balance political involvement with our faith, especially as we guard against letting our politics dictate our faith? How can we make sure we’re Christians first, then Americans (or whatever nationality we might be) only after that?
Not Pie in the Sky By and By
Fourth Sunday After the Epiphany
Matthew 5:1–12
Micah 6:1–8
The beatitudes are a troublesome passage, not so much because of what they say, but because of how people have used them over the years. Because almost all of them end with a supposed reward that is set in the future, people use them to talk about what the people who fulfill these descriptions will receive not now, but in heaven (or at least some sort of distant future). Slave owners often used such verses, even editing them, to remind slaves that they should be meek or that, if they hunger and thirst now (note the omission), they will be filled when they are ultimately in heaven, where they will be because they are meek.
Along the same lines, men used this passage against women for centuries, and some still do. In the same way the slave owners used such verses for control, the men have and do, as well. They, too, might edit out parts to remind women that they didn’t need money, as the poor will receive the kingdom of heaven. As with the slave owners, they also forced women to be meek, which they interpreted as doing whatever the man (often the husband) said the woman should do.
While talking about these ideas in this way, they reminded (or remind) the slaves or women that “blessed” doesn’t really mean “blessed”; instead, the better translation is “happy,” a point preachers continue to emphasize. For the slave owners and men, then, it was clear that those whom they were oppressing should not only be meek or poor or hungry or thirsty; they should be happy to be in that state. Doing otherwise was against the will of God. These verses became an instrument of control, coercion, and oppression instead of providing the liberation Jesus intended.
The focus on the future, though, still hampers how we read this passage. We still talk about how those who suffer in some way here on Earth will receive some sort of future reward, whether we accept the traditional idea of heaven or have some other idea. Such a view does provide comfort to those who are going through difficult times, as they can remember that, though they mourn now, they will one day receive comfort. Many people who have had family members or friends die use such an interpretation to help them get through one of the most difficult times of their lives.
However, such an approach that puts any reward in the future deprives us of the joy (which is different from happiness) we should seek and provide to one another right now, not in some distant future. We often interpret these verses in a way that causes them to read like this: “Blessed are those who mourn, for God will comfort them in heaven.” That reading, though, makes two assumptions that shift our reading in unfortunate ways. It implies God will do the comforting, and that comforting will happen in heaven. Given its construction, though, one could also read the verse as, “Blessed are those who mourn, for others will comfort them when they do mourn.” It’s still in the future, but a much more conceivable future, a future almost
