What to do when you grow up (Sermon 1.27.13)

(This sermon was given on January 27, 2013, at Central Lutheran Church, Anchorage, Alaska. The text for the day was Luke 4:14-21, Epiphany 3C).

 

What did you want to be when you grew up? What did you tell people? What did you tell yourself? It's been said that the gifts and skills we exhibit in early childhood may be a predictor of our true calling and vocation. What did you like to do as a child? When I was young, I liked to memorize books and then act them out, so maybe that's not too far off. But I also wanted to be an astronaut, and then the Challenger blew up. Then I decided to be an on-the-earth astronomer, but when I took high school math and chemistry, I realized I didn't like equations. So, oh, well, here I am.

 

Think back on what you wanted to be when you grew up. Think back on how you thought your life would work out. Did everything go as planned? Did anything go as planned? Very few of us would have planned for the sudden death of a loved one, being fired from a job or a relationship ending. We didn't know, perhaps, when we were younger, that life would bring us pain, frustration, boredom, grief, anger, fear or anxiety. We didn't plan for death, stroke, cancer, divorce or depression. I don't know about you, but I have often felt like a cartoon character I once saw who got mad when his fellow actors weren't following their lines. He screamed, “None of this is in the script!”

 In the gospel lesson for today, Jesus returns to his hometown, Nazareth, and news of his fame goes before him. He had been teaching throughout Galilee and everyone was impressed. Perhaps it was his strong speaking voice, his deep and soulful gaze or his astonishing grasp of the Torah and Jewish traditions. By the time he got to Nazareth, any number of people were already expecting what Jesus might do when he “grew up,” that is, what he might accomplish. Perhaps he'd be a wise and inspiring rabbi that reassured them of their status as the chosen ones. Maybe he'd become political force to overtake the Romans. There were so many things Jesus might be and people had plans.

 Jesus had plans, too. He had his own ideas about what his life would look like, about his life's work. These are Jesus’ first words in the gospel of Luke and it’s a sort of inaugural address. Here’s what you can expect in the coming years, here’s a vision. Jesus walks into the synagogue at Nazareth and reads from Isaiah. When Jesus sat down, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Perhaps the people were thinking, “Well, that's nice. Can't argue with Isaiah.” The eyes of all were fixed on him. Then he said, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” Hmmm. What does he mean, the crowd wondered? Does this mean he is the Messiah? Is he the powerful leader we hoped for?

 Our story ends here, for the week. You'll have to stay tuned next week to hear what Jesus says next and how the people react. Here's a teaser: the people are not too happy about Jesus' next words.

 Let's stay with the words Jesus speaks here. He's quoting from two different portions of Isaiah, chapters 58 and 61, and references Leviticus 25, regarding the Jubilee year. His words aren't just quoting scripture; Jesus is telling us what he's going to do when he grows up. He's telling us what his life and work will be about. He'll bring good news to the poor, give sight to the blind and release the captives. He'll do this in myriad ways throughout the gospel of Luke. Jesus may have gotten inspiration from Isaiah, but his words are similar to his mother's vision of what God's world could be. Mary's song, the Magnificat, echoes these same themes. Hmmm. Maybe mother really does know best.

Jesus' whole life and ministry will be about proclaiming the good news. And who is the good news for? The poor, the captive, the blind and the oppressed. Did it say anything in there about the middle class Norwegians? People who are doing just fine? People who have a lucrative stock portfolio, a secure job or plenty of savings? What about people who take can care of themselves, thank you, and don't want to bother anyone? Is the good news for them?

 The thing is, the good news is really only good news when you realize you truly need it. Before the gospel can be good news, it's terrible news. And the news is this: we all either have been or are experiencing poverty, blindness, oppression and captivity. We may be physically or spiritually poor. We may be literally blind or blind to the needs of others or the way God is present in our world. We may be oppressed literally or we may be overwhelmed by our work or family circumstances. We may be held captive literally or we may be captive to depression, anxiety, self-doubt, holding on to grudges, lack of motivation or life circumstances. Before we can hear the good news of the gospel, we have to see the truth own pain, longings and doubt. This is not the kind of truth we like to hear. One of the reasons Jesus was killed was because he spoke the truth.

 But when you've accepted the bad news about yourself, you're freed up to hear the good news. God is good. God comes to you. God is for you. God gives you comfort. God never leaves you alone. This is very good news indeed. And when you've really received the good news and comfort from God, you can give it to others, freely, and without holding back.

This brings us to today, to this place in time. Jesus wasn't what the people expected, and our lives aren't always what we expect, either. Our life as a congregation doesn't always go the way we had planned. Many of the events, changes and heartaches of ministry that I have experienced were not ones I expected or planned for in seminary. The events of last Sunday's annual meeting were not exactly in my plan. As most of you know, due to budget restraints, the congregation voted Sunday to eliminate the position of the youth and family minster, effective the end of this month. I confess I'm still upset and I'm really sad. Things do not always go the way we had planned.

 And yet. And yet. The good news comes to us right in those places and it does not leave us there. We do not emerge unchanged from an encounter with God. An encounter with the good news gives us comfort but it also sends us out to be the body of Christ, not just to the world but also to each other.

 Paul writes in 1 Corinthians about dissension within the body. That was true for the early Christians in Corinth and every congregation since. It is even true, at times, for us. And yet. And yet. We are still the body. We are still the ones called to carry on Jesus' mission of bringing good news, release, sight and liberation. What’s our inaugural vision for Central today? What hopes and dreams do we have for this congregation this year? How do we join in Jesus’ mission and live out his vision?

A few requests: Please be extra kind to each other over the coming weeks. Please be extra attentive to the gifts you have that can contribute to the body of Central Lutheran. Please be extra willing to say yes when one of the pastors or members of the youth committee asks you to help, or asks you to share your faith story during Lent. Please be extra conscious of the fact that when you don't think you need to be here at worship, we need you. We need each other.

 Please know that the God who gives you comfort and peace has also entrusted you to the task of caring for others. Please know that your vocation – your purpose that goes beyond your job – is grounded in our common faith and life. Please know that when you were baptized into the body of Christ, you received your first and true calling: child of God. Please know that it is here that you are empowered to go out do all those things – big and small – that you were really meant to do when you grew up. Amen.