1-21-07 Careful! It’s Alive!
Luke 4:14-21
So many words come at us in the course of a day. Some of those words dictate the course of our lives. We pay close attention to them. Other words fly in one ear and out the other without the brain ever hearing them.
Think of all the words we ignore, or try to:
Commercials and sales pitches. I have discovered that I can save a huge amount of time by videotaping a football game. By fast-forwarding through all the commercials, you can watch a 3-hour game in about 45 minutes. Who wants to hear the commercials anyway? We don’t listen to sales pitches for things we don’t want.
Occasions when relatives or aquaintances launch into the same old stories we’ve heard 100 times. The mind tends to wander. We don’t listen to someone endlessly rehash the past.
Those thick mutual fund annual reports, or a prospectus for some investment, or the latest inhouse procedural update to your insurance policy? I’m sure it means something to someone, but not to me. We don’t listen to arcane information that isn’t relevant to our lives.
A senate filibuster. There have been famous cases where senators have read recipes and children’s books and auto repair manuals as they held the floor for hours and even days to deadlock debate. No one listens to that. We don’t listen to people who talk just to fill time.
Nagging. Doesn’t everybody love to hear constant commentary about their failings and faults, or why they should act differently? We don’t listen to people lecturing us how we’re supposed to act.
The soapbox rant where someone goes on at length about how things ought to be, and how screwed up everyone is and how much better things would be if only everyone had half the common sense of the speaker? It gets tiresome. We don’t listen to self-righteous people spouting their endless opinions.
The pastor who drones on and on in a dull sermon that lasts forever? We don’t listen to people who go on endlessly, telling us nothing new.
Okay, so there are a lot of cases where we don’t listen to words. What about the cases where we do? What causes us to listen to words?
Curiosity, for one. When a friend calls to explain what really happened that led to that fistfight in the tuba section at the bandshell last night, we listen. Or at the Academy Awards, when we hear the words, “And the winner is . . .” we prick up our ears and pay attention. We listen when we are curious.
A jury returning with its verdict. Do you remember the crowds of people intently watching a television set when the verdict was announced at the end of the O.J. Simpson trial? For most, interest went far beyond mere curiosity. They believed our justice system was on trial and wanted to know how it would hold up. We listen when justice is at stake.
When we get a notice from the school that our child is having difficulties and a parent teacher conference is requested. We walk into that room, absolutely focused on what the teacher has to say. When our children are at stake, we listen.
When rumor spreads all through town that the factory is closing--the plant that is the lifeblood of the community and the income source for so many people. When the company spokesman announces a press conference, the room is packed and no one is leaning back in their chairs. When our community and our way of life are at stake, we listen.
When our loved ones head home after the holidays, and we hear that they are driving into a blizzard that blew in suddenly from the Arctic. When we hear that a tornado devastated the city where our relatives live, we wait by the phone. When it rings, we grab it with our heart in our throats, anticipating the next words we hear. When safety is at stake, we listen.
When someone dear to us has been in a serious traffic accident, we dash to the hospital to find they are in intensive care. At last the doctor comes out and we read his face trying to anticipate the words that are about to come. Or when the results of a test or a diagnostic scan comes back regarding a major health concern and you hear the words, “Here’s what we found.” We listen. When health is at stake, we listen.
During times of war or international crisis. Following the attack on Pearl Harbor, the nation listened intently to the president’s radio broadcast. During the Cuban missile crisis, when the United States and the Soviet Union stood on the brink of a nuclear war that would have devastated the planet, people held their breath at every announcement by the government. When enemy movements are suspicious and shrouded in secrecy, there are people poring over every letter of every intercepted message, combing for clues to the enemy’s plans. When our collective security is at stake, we listen.
There is night and day difference between how we listen to the first set of words and how we listen to the second. My question is, how do we listen to The Word of God? Does that fall within the first set or the second?
An agnostic I know visited our church in Eau Claire. He did not leave impressed and he referred to a part of the sermon as, “the sales pitch.” Do we listen to the Scripture reading as a sales pitch, trying to talk us into doing or feeling something we don’t really want?
Do we view the reading as an endless rehash of stories and verses we’ve heard so often in the past? Do we dismiss the Scriptures as the fine print on some legal document, full of arcane information irrelevant to us in our time and place?
Is the reading of the Bible in church just a routine procedure that’s there just because it is, that fills time in worship and we just need to endure it? Do we view the Word of God as a nagging book, which we are tired of hearing, full of lectures and criticism on how we are supposed to act? Do we think of it as the soapbox of the holier-than-thou who harangue us with endless opinions life and spirituality?
Do we view the reading of the Word as a monotonous speech that goes on too long and isn’t going to tell us anything new?
The congregation in our reading from Nehemiah did not come to the scriptures with that kind of mindset. How did they listen to the Word? “The ears of all were attentive. And Ezra opened the book in the sight of all the people, and when he opened it, all the people stood up. And all the people wept when they heard the words of the law.”
Sounds to me as though they were in the second category of listening. They were on the edge of their seats as the word was read.
Why did they have that attitude? And is there any reason for us to do the same?
Take a look at the Gospel reading from Luke. It says Jesus went to church, as was his custom. This wasn’t a special occasion; Jesus attended worship regularly. He was the assigned reader that week. When it was time for the reading, they brought the scroll to him.
If you have ever been at a Jewish service, this is an amazing sight to see. It is the highlight of the service. The scroll is brought out from its place of honor, where it is protected from the elements behind glass. It is a beautiful work of art, often wrapped in cloth and decorated in gold and jewels. It is brought out with great ceremony, this ancient document, and then read.
After Jesus read the Word from this scroll, he sat down. That doesn’t mean he went back to his seat in the congregation. Hebrew custom was different from our world—teachers taught sitting down. Jesus sat down and began to do exactly what we heard in the Nehemiah reading, where it says, “they read from the book and then gave the sense, so that people understood the reading.”
Here we have a picture of what a sermon is. It never stands on its own. By itself it has limited value. Its purpose is to help others understand the reading. If a sermon is not based on the Bible reading, it may be a lecture or a testimony, but it is not a sermon. The sermon’s task is to help discover what God has to say to us today in those words.
The central point of the service is not the sermon, but the reading of the word. That is because the word of God is not a dusty relic of a bygone age. It is not an archival document that meant something at one time and it’s up to us to figure out what it meant. Hebrews 4 says the Word of God is active and living. It is alive.
Today’s readings tell us that there are two things we should expect from the readings in church:
1. Expect to hear something of value. Be disappointed if you don’t. You are not going to hear
a sales pitch,
a rehash of the past,
outdated, irrelevant information,
a ritual to fill time in the service,
a lecture on how to act,
a soapbox rant of the self-righteous, or an uninspired sermon.
You will hear something that will speak to your curiosity about God, one of the most mysterious puzzles in our universe.
There is a lot at stake in those readings. For each of us.
Justice is at stake.
Our children’s well-being hangs in the balance.
The community and our entire way of life are at risk.
Our safety, our health, and our collective security are all riding on the words that come to us on Sunday morning in the readings.
Words are coming to us that make all the difference in the world. Words are coming that bring good news to the poor, that proclaim release of the captive, sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed. The Word is not a generic, one-size-fits-all product. The Word is for you as much as the bread and wine that is placed in your hand at communion.
We don’t worship the Bible, but there are things we could do to treat it with more respect. Ideally, sometime in the future, I would like to see all the readings done from one place. Right now we have a lectern from which lay people read what we call the lessons, and a pulpit which is reserved for the pastor and the Gospel. That gives the impression that the pastor is more important. What if we had one special place reserved strictly for the reading of Scripture and its interpretation, open to all who carry the word?
I would like to see us buy a large reading Bible, which stays permanently in this sanctuary, an attractive, cherished piece of art and beauty from which all of us read the Word.
The reading of the Word is important. Expect to hear something of value in its reading and interpretation. Be disappointed if you don’t.
2. Expect to be surprised by what you hear. The Word is alive. It grows and it works in mysterious ways on each of us.
The congregation in our Gospel story never expected the Word to say what it said to them in this passage, that today the words of Isaiah are fulfilled in your presence. They had been reading those words for centuries, but it never meant to them what it did on this particular day.
Every Sunday, something happens in the reading of the Word. You never know ahead of time what that will be. Come to church knowing that this could be the Sunday when the word of God comes alive to you and speaks to you in a way you have never experienced or even imagined.