Image Source |
August 26, 2013
Luke
13:10-17
10Now Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues on the
sabbath. 11And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that
had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to
stand up straight. 12When Jesus saw her, he called her over and
said, "Woman, you are set free from your ailment." 13When
he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising
God. 14But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had
cured on the sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, "There are six days on
which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the
sabbath day." 15But the Lord answered him and said, "You
hypocrites! Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from
the manger, and lead it away to give it water? 16And ought not this
woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set
free from this bondage on the sabbath day?" 17When he said
this, all his opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing
at all the wonderful things that he was doing.
Sermon: “Set Free on the Sabbath”
I love
Sabbath. I love it celebrated in worship
here as a community, as we embrace a day to remember that the world and our lives
do not revolve around us, but around God.
I love covered-dish luncheons like last week’s, and oh boy, do I love
Sunday afternoon naps, y’all.
A lot of
us pastor folk also like to say that our “Sabbath” is actually our day off
during the week, which for me is Friday.
That “Sabbath” day looks like sleeping in, reading novels in coffee
shops, lazily cooking soul-satisfying fare, having dinner with friends, curling
up with my dog, not checking my email.
Yes, most pastors would say this is a description of what Sabbath is for
us.
And we
would be wrong. You see, Sabbath and a
day off are not the same thing. Days off
are necessary for all of us: a day to remember that we are not
nearly as important as we think we are, and that the world will keep spinning
all the same if we take a break. A day
to recharge our bodies and souls so that we have energy to do all the things
God calls us to do. Retired or still
working, we all need days off. But what
the world needs is Sabbath.
It’s one
of the 10 Commandments, you know: Sabbath.
Right up there with not murdering anyone and not coveting your
neighbor’s donkey. And so it wasn’t just
a gentle suggestion by God. “Remember
the Sabbath day and keep it holy” is a non-negotiable as far as God is concerned. But how do we do this?
Remembering
the Sabbath and keeping it holy does not just mean taking a nap or showing up
for worship (or napping during worship).
Scripture shows us that Sabbath, which we have sought to simplify into
meaning “rest”, actually has many meanings.
In
Genesis, Sabbath was God taking a satisfied look at all of creation and
resting. But Sabbath came to mean many
other things as well.
In
Exodus, Sabbath meant the economic sacrifice of not working one day a week.
In
Leviticus, the land itself takes a Sabbath on the 7th year to rest
from bearing crops, that it might be more fruitful the next year.
In
Deuteronomy, Sabbath was set apart as a day to remember God’s great deeds in
freeing God’s people from slavery in Egypt.
In Isaiah,
the Sabbath was described as a day of holy delight.
And then
Jesus came along, and rolled all of these ideas about Sabbath into one. He managed to make the religious folk furious
as he did it. (The fella sort of enjoyed
doing this.) You see, those who were
trying to get this so-called Son of God stopped used the Sabbath to do it. They constantly tried to prove that Jesus was
“breaking” the Sabbath. And Jesus constantly
responded by showing them that the Sabbath was for the “broken.”
When his
disciples were hungry and plucked and ate grain from a field on the Sabbath,
and got in trouble for it, Jesus (good Jewish fellow that he was) reminded the
religious leaders that David had once eaten consecrated bread on the Sabbath
when he and his companions were starving, “breaking” the Sabbath.
And
Jesus told them, “The Sabbath is made for people, and not people for the
Sabbath.” Which is a cryptic way of
saying, the Sabbath is made to bring life to people, not to take it away with
prideful rules. Then, never one to stop
short of heresy, he said, “I am the Lord of the Sabbath.” Oh you know they loved hearing that.
But
Jesus’ Sabbath stirring up didn’t end there, y’all. He went on and healed a man with a withered
hand on the Sabbath, and when those same religious folk got angry, he said, “Is
it lawful to do harm or good on the Sabbath, to save a life or to kill?”
Finally,
we come to our story in Luke. You can
bet that the synagogue leader let out a sigh of frustration when Jesus walked
into the synagogue. He knew there would
be trouble. And there was. A woman who was bent over with pain for years
and years (we might call it severe arthritis or fibromyalgia these days)
came. She did not come directly to Jesus
to be healed, though. She came to the
temple to worship, on the Sabbath. And
Jesus happened to see her in her pain and suffering and decided the Sabbath was
for her.
When the
synagogue leader was about to chuck her out for groaning too loudly and
disrupting the hymns (she didn’t even sign the friendship pad, y’all!), Jesus
called her over. And right there, right
smack in the middle of the synagogue, in plain sight of everyone, he healed
her. Well, in Greek, he loosed her
bonds. He set her free.
That
worship leader was irate. Instead of
addressing Jesus directly, he sort of passive-aggressively started stirring up
the congregation: “Do you see this,
y’all! There are six days to work, this
lady should have come on one of those days.
This is the Sabbath day, and that means no work! That means rest.”
Jesus
responded with his favorite pet name for the religious leaders:
hypocrites. (They didn’t like this
nickname very much.) He said that every
person there cared for their animals on the Sabbath, not letting them starve
and feeding them. How much more worthy
of care was this woman? Eighteen years
was long enough for her to be bound by suffering and sorrow. The Sabbath day was the perfect day for her
to be set free.
You see,
for Jesus, the Sabbath was about rest and recharging, and it was about
worshipping God in community. But it was
also about setting people free, right in the midst of that community; a way to
honor God by honoring the humanity of a child of God.
Jesus
and that synagogue leader read from the same play book, they both knew what the
Commandments said, “remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.” But they interpreted them very
differently.
You see,
Jesus did not understand holy to mean free from imperfection or suffering, like
the synagogue leader thought holy meant, keeping the wrong sort of people out
of worship. No, for this Lord of the
Sabbath, holiness was found in liberating all of God’s children, especially on
a day set aside to remember God’s great liberation of the people of Israel from
slavery.
A nice
idea, isn’t it? But you might be
thinking, “Okay, so Jesus got it right, he healed people on the Sabbath, I get
it…but what does that have to do with me?
I don’t see him coming in here to interrupt your sermon by healing us
from heart issues and aching joints!”
And you
would be right: Jesus doesn’t promise us healing in that way. (Though it might be nice if he did come
interrupt my sermon some time, don’t you think?!) But he does bring us freedom if we’ll open
ourselves to it. That bent-over woman
was open to the freedom he brought, because she knew that she needed him. She came when he called her, and so she found
it. The synagogue leader could not see
the ways he had made God’s beautiful law a chain to bind himself and others,
and so he found no freedom that day. He
found only anger and frustration.
Perhaps
in this story, the Lord of the Sabbath is still trying to teach us religious
folk what this Sabbath thing is all about.
Teaching us that if we expect Sabbath to mean encountering God for one
hour a week only, then that is all we will see of God, though God is woven
through our most hectic days, too. That
if we expect Sabbath to be predictable and ordinary, with God never teaching us
something new or freeing us in this community, then that is all Sabbath will
ever be for us.
But what
if we embrace the full meaning of Sabbath as Jesus did? What if we say it is for rest but also for
remembering how God has carried us through difficult times when we lacked the
energy to see a new day?
What if
we believe that Sabbath is a time for all to be renewed, even the earth itself,
and then play our part in that renewal?
What if we trusted that freedom on the Sabbath was possible, not just
for us, but for those whose backs are bent with the weight of worry or
injustice?
Sabbath
can be incredibly tame and predictable, as the synagogue leader worked so hard
to make it. Or Sabbath can be the space
where we open our schedules, our hearts, this world, to the God who as far as
we know took only that one Sabbath rest after creating us, and has tirelessly
worked for our freedom ever since.
So what
will it be for us? A Sabbath of
comfortable bondage to the way we’ve always done it, or a Sabbath of being set
free by Christ so we can in turn set others free? The former will keep us finding God in the
old, familiar ways, and thus staying exactly as we have ever been. But the latter, if we have the wild courage
to follow it, will lead us to discovering God in all the wrong places: in the
poor, the weighed down, the forgotten, the broken in body or spirit (or
both).
Remember
the Sabbath day and keep it holy. But
remember, also, that it’s not about you (or me). It’s about the Lord of the Sabbath, and he is
still, and always will be, about the work of setting people free, calling us to
join him. Will we? Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment