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:
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
And freedom is
also what the Sabbath is about. Like the deliverance of God's people from
In
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:
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