Sunday, January 23, 2022

๐Ÿ‘€ (Third Sunday of Epiphany)


The scriptures here.

It’s been a long week. How do we fit this, these scriptures, I mean, into our days?

 Linger with the words from Nehemiah awhile.  Not to exegete them; just to listen carefully to them.  Ezra, the priest, reads from the book of the law of Moses which the Lord has given to Israel.  Even that seemingly exclusionary phrase is important here.  But pay attention to the other details.

He read from it facing the square before the Water Gate from early morning until midday, in the presence of the men and the women and those who could understand; and the ears of all the people were attentive to the book of the law.

The audience itself is inclusive.  Men, women, and "those who could understand."  Gentiles?  Children?  Aliens and foreigners?  Could be.

 So they read from the book, from the law of God, with interpretation. They gave the sense, so that the people understood the reading.

I like that part.  That's part of what priests and pastors are supposed to do:  give the sense, so that the people understand the reading.  Because the word of God is not self-interpreting; it is not self-evident and self-explanatory.  Indeed, that kind of understanding is self-centered, because the word of God is not for you.  It is for the community; the men and the women and those who can understand.  When I was young, that meant children over the age of confirmation.  I was confirmed long before I could vote, or drive a car, or be drafted, or drink alcohol.  I was an adult in the church because I was considered one of those who could understand.

Whether I did or not was, obviously, another matter.

Then he said to them, "Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions of them to those for whom nothing is prepared, for this day is holy to our LORD; and do not be grieved, for the joy of the LORD is your strength." 

There, right there, in telling the people to feast and celebrate that day, the instruction is to include those not included, "those for whom nothing is prepared."  Why isn't it prepared?  Maybe they have no means, no family, no one to prepare it for them.  They are included because "this day is holy to our Lord."

Hold onto that.

Paul emphasizes that Jews or Greeks, slaves or free, we are all part of one body.  Not a community; a body.

 Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many.

And I always liked the way he declared each part of the body as important as any other.  This is especially good for us today, who favor the head or the heart, or even put them in opposition, as if there should be a battle, a tension, a struggle between them, with the rest of the body reduced merely to mechanical accompaniments, mere appendages supplying the needs of the "true" body.

The eye cannot say to the hand, "I have no need of you," nor again the head to the feet, "I have no need of you."

12:22 On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable,

12:23 and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect;

12:24 whereas our more respectable members do not need this. But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member,

12:25 that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another.

12:26 If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.

If my tooth hurts, does my knee say "Who cares?"? Long as it ain't me!"  If I stub my toe, does my hand say "You should watch out where you're going!  The rest of us don't have time to do it for you!"? If you’re part of the body, how can you not be included?

In Luke we find Jesus just after his temptation in the wilderness, and the ministration of the angels.  After his orderal Jesus is filled with the holy spirit, and everybody notices something different because he begins teaching and is "praised by everyone." I like that Luke says Jesus is “filled with the holy spirit.” Coming centuries after the doctrine of the holy trinity was settled we might ask “How could he not be?” But Luke is clear that Jesus is God, and Jesus is human. Jesus has a body, and it’s just been through an ordeal. The other end of such an ordeal is a spiritual clarity, a sense of inspiration, a state of being filled with a spirit, of being different. So Jesus was human, and like any human after a physical trial, he was altered. His alteration is the holy spirit. And what does that spirit reveal to him? That the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable. That the lame will walk, the blind will see, and the prisoners will go free.

The weaker are indispensable. They get healed. They get set free. We cannot discard them, we cannot dispose of them. We cannot say we have no need of them. We might as well say we have no need of ourselves. 

See what a dangerous thing metaphors are?

More danger: go back to Paul. Jews or Greeks, slaves or free. We think of Jews as exclusive and exclusionary. But Paul is in keeping with his upbringing. The blessings of the covenant with Abraham were to make Israel a blessing to the nations. To pretty much anyone who could understand. Which, you know, is what Jesus is on about.

If you’re going to announce release to the captive and sight to the blind, you are announcing understanding and liberation. Or you are announcing literally restored physical sight and the end of the prison. You could even be doing both. Jesus is announcing his ministry; and the point, to Luke, is that some people understand him, and some people don’t. 

Jesus isn’t much of a priest, really, or a pastor. He leaves it to other people too understand what he’s saying. He teaches, but he doesn’t explain. So, here is Jesus speaking metaphorically, for his own purposes, or for Luke’s narrative purposes; or literally, again for his purposes or for Luke’s; or still again, in either case, for both? He, and Luke, leave it to us to understand.

Are the blind or the prisoners the weaker members of the body? Can we do without them? In Jesus’ day the blind were more of a problem for society than they are now. It’s likely Jesus was talking about that, not about the infirmity of being sightless. Prisoners were as much a social problem then as now. Indeed, prisoners are always a social problem. Only society can create prisoners. And why do we have prisoners? The Romans made people prisoners. They were the authority. And the occupying power. Were their prisons legitimate? Were their rules legitimate?

Jesus is probably not saying so. But is Jesus concerned with prisons? Maybe. Possibly. Is he concerned with sightless people? Almost certainly. But if he starts his ministry proclaiming sight to the blind and freedom for the prisoners, why does he do that? What does he mean? Are we closing in on that?

He’s certainly announcing revolution. Or maybe, since Jesus is quoting Isaiah, Jesus is announcing radical reversal. Blind people see. Prisoners leave the prison. Streams in the desert! Dogs and cats, living together! Mass hysteria!

Or maybe he’s just trying to give the greater honor to the the inferior member? Those for whom nothing is prepared? And who would that be? You? Me? Us? Does the revolution include us? Do we want to be revolutionaries? Do we want to be the ones for whom nothing is prepared? The less honorable members of the body? The blind, the imprisoned? Wouldn’t that mean we have to acknowledge our weaknesses? Or do we think we are among those who understand? So when Jesus says he’s come to free the prisoners and give sight to the blind, why does he say it? What does he mean? What do you understand?

Do you think the prisoners deserve release? Should they be released anyway? Giving sight to the blind is a blessing. Giving release to the prisoners is…social reversal. Upheaval at least. Even revolution.

Or is the right term revelation?

See what a dangerous thing metaphors are?

1 comment:

  1. “Do you think the prisoners deserve release? Should they be released anyway? Giving sight to the blind is a blessing. Giving release to the prisoners is…social reversal. Upheaval at least. Even revolution.
    Or is the right term revelation?
    See what a dangerous thing metaphors are?”

    Since are talking metaphors, and reading this several times over the last days, I will extend the metaphor in a different direction.

    What if we are the blind? What if we are the prisoner?

    To really see. To be cured to see our true motivations. To see our prejudices, our selfishness, our greed. To see how our actions hurt others. To see how we are responsible and accountable?

    And for those things we can see, to be freed of those that hinder our right relationship with god and with others. To be freed of our guilt over what we have done and what we have left undone. Freed of our resentments of the harms done us by others. Freed of our addictions that we see but can’t stop. Freed of our jealousy, envy and hate. Freed of our shame.

    I find it easier to think about freeing the actual prisoner and seeing and curing the actual blind. Doing that will certainly create a revolution, a radical reversal. But even then I can still harbor my prejudice, my anger, my resentment. To cure my own blindness is far more scary. What if I don’t like what I see? What if I don’t want to be freed, to let go of what binds me? These are familiar, even self-defining. Who will I be without them?

    (None of this is so theoretical. After many years I have decided to get some professional help. Family connections, close friendships, a 12 step program, have all been deeply meaningful and helpful, but there is a richness of relationship that I still hold back from. I found someone who is willing to see not just the psychological issues but also recognize the spiritual dimension of what I seek. Ask what how I felt at the start, I said among other feelings I felt scared. The sweet wife said be brave, come out from behind that ten feet of concrete.)

    In the end I don’t see this as either/or, but both. Since both are about a new relationship with god and with each other. Freeing the prisoner brings us into a new relationship with the prisoner and through that a new relationship god. Freeing ourselves from that which binds us allows for a new relationship with god and with others. Curing our own blindness lets us see the other and god, and curing the blind about seeing them about our call of service of the other.

    Dear God, help me see. Let me see within myself, and to see the other. God, let my neighbor see so that they can live in the fullness of life. Let us both see so that we can be in closer relationship with you and with each other. God, free me from my prison, and guide me to free the prisoner from their cell, so we can be in a new relationship with each other and with you.

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