Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10; 1 Corinthians 12:12-31a; Luke 4:14-21
Ordinary 3C
Maybe the cold temperatures, the short days and the sluggishness of the post-holiday season push me toward melancholy.
I hear the birds chirp early in the morning and the beautiful pair of cardinals regularly visit the bird feeder outside my office window. Signs of spring peek through the layer of snow on the ground, revealing that soon light will push away the darkness. Even so, a rawness in my soul remains. News stories, whether heartening or gut wrenching, elicit tears I find embarrassing. I chide myself for being too sensitive. The unyielding stand-off in Washington brings alternating waves of anger and hopelessness. Then I scold myself for a lack of faith. I feel as if I am walking around without skin, exposed and vulnerable.
The people gathered by the water tower long for a word of the Lord and beg to hear the law of Moses. They weep when Ezra reads aloud the will and wisdom of their God. Do they, too, wonder where in their world God’s good news resounds in the ears of the poor? Do they question when the Scripture will be fulfilled in their hearing? The oppressed do not appear free; many remain captive to poverty, violence, fear, addiction and the list goes on. Do the people weep by the water tower because they have fallen short of the glory of God or because God’s glory feels distant from them?
Nehemiah and Ezra look upon the people, grieved and weeping, and tell them their reaction is all wrong. Rejoicing – not crying – is in order. Celebrate and do not mourn, they command. Throw a party, don’t wail in lament. The joy of the Lord is their strength. The joy of the Lord, not their circumstances nor the conditions of the world, should dictate their mood, their wellbeing, their outlook.
How much more then, should my perspective be based on the promise and presence of God? After all, I am privy to Jesus’ reading of the prophet and his definitive statement that this very day Isaiah’s words are fulfilled. In my hearing of this scroll today, not just when Jesus walked the earth, the Scripture is fulfilled. Good news for the poor resounds through creation. The oppressed are indeed free, the captives’ release assured. The blind now sighted. Jesus’ word can be trusted. Why then am I so often moved to weep rather than rejoice?
1 Corinthians 12:26 jumps off the page as if in bold: “If one part of the body suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.” Could it be that the power of Spirit contained in the Word of God moves us to weep and rejoice? Jesus came to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim freedom to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Our joy is in the strength of the Lord, the Lord who ensures that the last will be first and the destitute will be blessed, and yet right now members of the body suffer and the Spirit will not let us ignore the goodness of creation nor the evil in our midst.
Could the people’s weeping and Ezra and Nehemiah’s call to rejoice both be faithful responses to the word of God read and proclaimed? So long as members of the body are honored, we rejoice; and so long as members of the body suffer, we mourn. Is it any wonder we feel raw and vulnerable? Would it be appropriate to feel otherwise?
Driving my daughter home from school one recent afternoon with the news on as usual, a novelist named Peter Behrens shared a true story of pervasive human suffering and simple, extraordinary kindness. Behrens recounted the story of Bartolo, a 22-year-old from Guatemala, who made his way to West Texas in a quest to get to Houston, work two years in construction and then return home to his wife and children. Two hunters give him $100, a runner took Bartolo into his home for two days and found him rides to Dallas and a family in Dallas found him a ride to Houston. Bartolo offered the $100 to the people who drove him the nine hours from West Texas to Dallas, but they refused the money and let him use their cell phone to call his wife. Behrens writes: “This is a story about someone who broke the law to enter our country illegally, and maybe you have a problem with that. It is also a story about hard traveling, courage and acts of kindness.”
As I listen, I find myself weeping. And rejoicing. The circumstances of Bartolo’s life led to hard travel and painful separations from home and family. The acts of kindness from hunters, a runner and a family – all strangers – represent the best of humanity. Jesus’ word of good news to the poor is fulfilled in my hearing even as many remain oppressed. Weeping and rejoicing together, because we are one body.
The story concludes with Behrens reporting that Bartolo called the family who drove him across Texas to tell them he made it to Houston and is working a construction job. He reminded them after two hears he’d be going home. I cry and celebrate and decide I am not going to be embarrassed by either response. We are one body, after all. And besides, if Jesus is moved with pity and has compassion on the crowds, shouldn’t we respond the same way? Jesus asks the lawyer looking to inherit eternal life, “Who was a neighbor to the man?” The lawyer answers, “The one who showed mercy.” Jesus says, “Go and do likewise.” That Samaritan, Jesus says, had compassion on the man in the ditch. He was moved with pity to act. Maybe he wept when he saw the man and rejoiced when he was safe in the inn.
God’s Word and God’s world ought to move us to weep and to rejoice, because we are one body. And so long as any member suffers, we mourn. And when any member is honored, freed or healed, we rejoice. To be so moved is cause for celebration because it demonstrates the reconciliation won for us in Christ, the Scripture fulfilled in our hearing.
This week:
- When have you been moved to tears or celebration at the word of God?
- What word of the Lord do you long to hear this week?
- How do we understand the Scripture to be fulfilled when so much suffering still exists in the world?
- What is more challenging for you or for your community of faith: weeping with those who weep or rejoicing with those who are honored?
- The lectionary cuts the verses in Nehemiah that contain the names of those standing with Ezra. What is lost when those verses are removed from the reading? Would you argue to keep them or cut them?
- How is the joy of the Lord our strength? What does that mean to you?
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