SERMON Shabbat Shalom

 

Pentecost 13 C Lectionary 21(2007): Isaiah 58:9b-14; Psalm 103:1-8; Hebrews 12:18-29; Luke 13:10-17

 

What we just heard recounted by Luke is about the Sabbath. But it is also about a woman with a serious spinal deformity.

And I have been particularly struck this past week with that woman's condition. Last Thursday, between major downpours, we managed to get to Steppenwolf to see Tracy Letts' new play August: Osage County -- a riveting play and a fantastic production -- well worth being seen even when completely drenched. The lead character in August: Osage County is the mother Violet. Brilliantly played by Deanna Dunagan, Violet is brutally honest and controlling, seriously addicted to pain medication, chain smoking through chemotherapy for mouth cancer. Both her entrance and her exit 3 ½ hours later take place as, holding on to the banisters with both hands, she first comes down and at the end goes up the three flights of double stairs that dominate the set. And there, in profile, on the stairs, is a woman like the woman this morning: "bent over and . . . quite unable to stand up straight."

In profile (except for the cigarette), coming down and going up stairs, Violet is a woman physically like the woman whom Jesus encounters in the synagogue. With a long-term drug addiction that has defined much of her marriage, Violet's struggle is like the woman's struggle with the evil spirit that has caused the deformity that has lasted eighteen years (given the life span in the first century, certainly half her life).

But striking as the physical resemblance is, there are significant differences. Violet's conditions -- both the drug addiction and the mouth cancer -- can be scientifically explained and rationalized; the deformity of our woman this morning is perceived as the unvarnished consequence of something she has done wrong. As unappealing as most of her behavior is, Violet is understood and helped. Our woman this morning was considered religiously unclean because of her deformity and socially ostracized. Yet, despite her deformity and status, our woman this morning is doing something Violet is incapable of doing: our woman is in the synagogue on a Sabbath. And because she is, Jesus sees her and sets her free from her bondage.

And because Jesus lays his hands on her head and she is able to stand up, and this becomes not only about the woman but about the Sabbath.

As in similar accounts, there is a villain -- in Luke's case here, an overly legalistic, indignant, self-righteous synagogue leader. The impression we have -- or have been taught to have -- is that Jesus is out to get rid of all the Sabbath laws, if not abolish the Sabbath as it was observed altogether. That is sort of the impression, isn't it?

But is it a correct impression? Does it really take into account what the Sabbath is all about and what Jesus is all about? I don't think so.

What the Sabbath is all about is found in the book of Genesis. God creates the world in six days and on the seventh day rests -- and the Hebrew word translated as "rest" is "shabbat." And in remembrance of that day and in gratitude for creation, God's creatures -- in joy -- give back that day to God by resting from their labors. Other neighboring religions had special days on which no work was done. But with few exceptions, they were unlucky days, tied to the phases of the moon. Almost alone the Israelites had a day of rest every seventh day -- a day based not on superstition and the moon, but on joy and creation.

And for the observant, it was, and is, a day of joy -- something we learned first-hand thirty years ago from a neighbor of ours when we were living in Jerusalem for a month. Phyllis was British, an Oxford-educated graduate student about our age. She had become an orthodox Jew and moved to Israel. Phyllis radiated joy, and through her, we began to under stand the wonderful freedom created by the Sabbath laws -- including the freedom of not having to work.

And freedom is also what the Sabbath is about. Like the deliverance of God's people from Egypt, the day of rest was meant to deliver all -- male and female, young and old, rich and poor -- from their labors. And that in the first century Roman Empire was a radical notion. As one Jewish commentator has written:

In Israel alone, labour did not mean the bondage of man. The Sabbath gave the toiler every week a day of freedom and leisure. This was quite incomprehensible to the Greeks and Romans. Their writers -- Tacitus, Juvenal, Plutarch -- make merry over the idea of presenting one day in every seven to the worker!

So, what, then, about Jesus this morning? What is he all about? Well, what Jesus is not about is abolishing the Sabbath. Indeed, what we hear reflects the early church's concern about its own continued observance of the Sabbath. What Jesus is about is reflected in his healing the woman.

Jesus' healing of the woman's affliction is a call for a broader definition of good that could permissibly be done on the Sabbath -- not just watering oxen or a donkey (which was permissible) or saving a life (which was an obligation) but non-emergency healing as well. The Sabbath was made for humankind, and for Jesus and the early church, that reality had to be reflected in its observance.

Jesus' healing of the woman also restores wholeness. Not just physical wholeness, but social wholeness. As a Jew who is crippled, the woman is religiously unclean and socially isolated. By being healed, she is restored to the wholeness of community. How appropriate that her return to the community, and deliverance from bondage, occurs on the Sabbath -- a day for making all things whole -- for the restoration of God's good creation. And that wholeness is, in turn, also found when, as Isaiah says this morning, we "offer [our] food to the hungry" and "satisfy the needs of the afflicted."

But there is another aspect to Jesus' the healing of the woman's back. Here is a woman who has been bent over for eighteen years. Her healing is not accomplished by surgery or braces. Rather, it is a miracle. For the early church, and for us as Christians, it is about a sign of the in-breaking of God's Kingdom and about Jesus as Christ, the Messiah. How appropriate that it occurs on the Sabbath, on a day devoted to the praise of God's creation and the restoration of its wholeness.

For most Christians, the Sabbath finally merged into the church's celebration of the Lord's Day -- the day of Jesus' resurrection, the eighth day. And that is appropriate, too. This is the day, to paraphrase Luther's explanation of keeping the Sabbath holy, on which we hear God's word and the preaching of it. Today is our Sabbath. In this community and in this hour, we know the goodness of God's creation and the in-breaking of the Kingdom. We experience the foretaste of the feast to come. Arguably much shorter than it should be, it is nonetheless a beautiful and rich Sabbath observance.

But there is more. "Despite the hardship her disability would pose for walking and for maneuvering in a crowd," our woman this morning comes to the synagogue on the Sabbath. She comes presumably to pray. She is already at the synagogue when Jesus sees her. She did not come seeking Jesus. Rather, it is Jesus who takes the initiative. It is Jesus who later affirms that even with her disability she is "a daughter of Abraham." Freed from her infirmity, our woman "immediately" stands up straight and begins praising God. But not only the woman: the entire crowd is rejoicing. And so it is for us. In this time and in this place, we, too, are seen, affirmed, and touched. By God's grace, we praise God and rejoice in that grace.

And how different that is from Violet's last bent over assent up the three flights of stairs in August: Osage County. Abandoned by her family and enslaved by her narcissism, Violet is alone at the end with the woman hired by her late husband to manage their lives. What a contrast to the daughter of Abraham set free by Jesus!

Most of us think of the Hebrew word "shalom" as meaning "peace." It does mean "peace," but it also means "whole," "complete," "healthy." On the Sabbath it is customary to greet someone by saying "Shabbat shalom," wishing him or her not only the peace that God gives, but the wholeness, completeness, and health that are God's gifts to us in creation as well. This morning, there can be no more appropriate greeting or prayer. Shabbat shalom! Amen.


                                                                                                                                                                   

August 26 2007

Ruth VanDemark, pastor

Wicker Park Lutheran Church