SERMON The Word, Bound and Unbound
Benjamin J. Dueholm, guest preacher
The Third Sunday after Epiphany, 2007
Neh. 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10; Ps. 19; I Cor.
12:12-31a; Lk. 4:21-30
Sisters and brothers, grace and peace to
you all from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
The
story has come down to me that my Danish ancestors, like most first-generation
immigrants, worried that their American children wouldn't know Danish. They had
come to this land of strange speech, living among Germans, Norwegians, and even
Roman Catholics. The story I heard is that they were afraid that if their
children didn't know Danish, they wouldn't be able to talk to Jesus in the next
life. The Scriptures, of course, were in Danish.
This
is a silly story, and almost certainly untrue. But it speaks to the power of
the Scriptures as we learn and know them. For the Danish immigrant community,
the important thing was not so much what the Bible said -- because it said it
in Greek, Danish, English, or any other language -- but what the Bible is.
So
what is the Bible? What is it that the Psalmist says is perfect, revives the
soul, and makes the simple to be wise? It sounds like an obvious question, but
the word 'Bible' can be applied to so many things. I carry this small copy of
the New Revised Standard Version around with me for prayer and study. A friend
gave me this edition of the King James Version, illuminated with beautiful
images of key stories. You can also get one or the other Testament in the
original language -- like this Greek New Testament I have here. Yet these are
all, in some sense, the Bible, different as they are.
Most
Christians would say that the Bible, in all these forms, is the Word of God,
but that phrase is not as straightforward as it may sound. The Word of God,
after all, called the universe into existence before there was any Bible. God
spoke to Abraham, calling him to leave his country and his people, without the
benefit of Scripture. God called Moses and the Israelites out of
The
Word of God extends far, far beyond what we call the Bible. It's like the
difference between a tree and the shade that the tree makes on a sunny day. It
is a compilation of human attempts to understand and capture the dynamic
reality of God's ever-speaking Word. "God: A Memoir, by those who knew him
best."
If
you spent any part of your life in Lutheran Sunday School, you probably had to
learn all the books of the Bible in order. And if you tried to do that, you
probably lost the thread somewhere around the Old Testament book of Nehemiah.
It's a book that most Christians don't seem to know much about and a book that
most Lutheran pastors would only preach about on a dare. But I'm going to give
it a try, since it has something important to say about this book and why we
revere it. It's a story not about what the Bible says, but about what the Bible
is: an enduring sign of God's faithfulness to the worshipping community.
First,
some history is in order. King David built the
The
fall of
That
is our story today in Nehemiah. Ezra, a priest of the temple and scribe of the
Law, reads the books of Moses -- Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and
Deuteronomy -- to everyone in
Surely,
in the days before and after the exile, the Israelites had found the statutes
of the Torah burdensome or arbitrary. Surely their children, and even some of
their adults, found the reading of the Torah in worship to be tedious. Even
now, people in synagogues and churches struggle to stay awake through arcane
prophecies and the chronicles of forgotten wars. But the Word of God is not a
dead letter, a set of dos and don'ts bound in leather. The Word of God lives
and breathes and dwells and acts among us. The Scriptures and the life they
call God's people to live are the signs of this true and living Word. The
remarkable return of the Torah to
The
same is true, I hope and pray, for the Church. As we
enter the third millennium of the Christian era, it is easy enough to see a
society and a world that has lost its way; to see a church that is wayward and
divided and even irrelevant. In some of
These
are fair questions. When I ask them myself, I try to remember that there is no
human reason that this book had to survive. It has so many sources and was
written over such a long period that, in fact, the odds were probably against
this particular Bible ever existing. The Torah could have been lost in the
exile. The New Testament could have been lost in the early Christian era, back
when the Church was just a small religious movement among scores of groups and
local cults. There were arguments over versions of stories and over what should
be included. It is an unlikely thing that we have it at all.
And now, if
every copy of the Bible in existence were taken away, there are thousands of
rabbis, pastors, and scholars, and lay people who could reconstruct it word for
word, at least if they were working together. This very day, the Bible is being
read in a million or more places around the world. That is a remarkable thing
to consider. Whatever else you can say about Scripture, whatever arguments we
Christians have with each other over what it is and what it means, this fact
shows us that God has not abandoned us. The Word is still living, calling us
from death into life. It can still raise tears of remorse, or relief, or joy.
It reminds us that under all the confusion of the world, God's Word still drives
and sustains our lives. The road home remains open. Do not mourn or weep, but
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. As long as we have these
holy words and these holy things, we can be assured that God is still with us
and still for us: rejoicing the heart, reviving the soul, making wise the
simple, giving light to the eyes. Amen.
January 21,
2007
Benjamin
Dueholm, guest preacher