Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11
1 The spirit of the Lord God is
upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the
brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the
prisoners; 2 to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor, and the day of vengeance
of our God; to comfort all who mourn; 3 to provide for those who mourn in
Zion-- to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of
mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit. They will be called
oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, to display his glory. 4 They
shall build up the ancient ruins, they shall raise up the former devastations;
they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations…
8 For
I the Lord love justice, I hate robbery and wrongdoing; I will faithfully give
them their recompense, and I will make an everlasting covenant with them. 9
Their descendants shall be known among the nations, and their offspring among
the peoples; all who see them shall acknowledge that they are a people whom the
Lord has blessed. 10 I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, my whole being shall
exult in my God; for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation, he has
covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself with a
garland, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. 11 For as the earth
brings forth its shoots, and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring
up, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all
the nations.
During this season of Advent, I have
chosen to preach from the Old Testament lessons from The Revised Common Lectionary (an ecumenical resource for Scripture
readings during the Church year). I think the Old Testament (Hebrew Bible) gets
a bad wrap sometimes; people often point to its archaic understanding of people
and the world. I think a lot of that comes from the way some Christians use the
Old Testament as a reservoir of proof texts, particularly passages from books
like Leviticus.
I’m always a bit fascinated whenever
I hear someone quote a passage from the book of Leviticus. Really, I am. I
mean, have you ever read it? It’s pretty dry; it’s mostly a list of
super-specific details about what to do and what not to do in terms of ritual
purity and the practices of observing certain feasts and holy days. Of course,
whenever I do hear someone referencing Leviticus in conversations outside of an
Old Testament seminar, it’s usually some reference to Leviticus 18 and it’s
specific laws about sexual relations (oddly enough, I don’t think I’ve ever
heard anyone mention the line just before it about child sacrifice to the false
god Molech[1]).
You see, what’s interesting to me is that those are the only verses in the
entire book that really get any attention, when there’s a lot of really interesting
stuff in what may otherwise be viewed as some overly-detailed instruction
manual for an ancient religious system.
Take, for instance, Leviticus chapter eleven. Chapter eleven outlines what foods are clean (or kosher) and which foods are unclean. Verses four through six say, “among those that chew the cud or have divided hoofs, you shall not eat the following: the camel, for even though it chews the cud, it does not have divided hoofs; it is unclean for you. The rock badger, for even though it chews the cud, it does not have divided hoofs; it is unclean for you. The hare, for even though it chews the cud, it does not have divided hoofs; it is unclean for you.” I suppose those are fair enough: after all, I can’t imagine I’d like to eat a camel or a rock badger (whatever that is), and though I know folks may have had to do it once upon a time, I have no desire to eat a rabbit or hare. Unfortunately, verse seven breaks my heart: “The pig, for even though it has divided hoofs and is cleft-footed, it does not chew the cud; it is unclean for you. Of their flesh you shall not eat…” There goes the ham, pork chops, barbecue, and bacon! More than likely, most of you have eaten two of those in the past 48 hours! It doesn’t get much better, because verse ten says, “anything in the seas or the streams that does not have fins and scales, of the swarming creatures in the waters and among all the other living creatures that are in the waters—they are detestable to you and detestable they shall remain. Of their flesh you shall not eat…” That means both catfish (which don’t have scales, but skin) and shrimp (which have shells and not scales) are both dietary abominations! Lord help me!
Take, for instance, Leviticus chapter eleven. Chapter eleven outlines what foods are clean (or kosher) and which foods are unclean. Verses four through six say, “among those that chew the cud or have divided hoofs, you shall not eat the following: the camel, for even though it chews the cud, it does not have divided hoofs; it is unclean for you. The rock badger, for even though it chews the cud, it does not have divided hoofs; it is unclean for you. The hare, for even though it chews the cud, it does not have divided hoofs; it is unclean for you.” I suppose those are fair enough: after all, I can’t imagine I’d like to eat a camel or a rock badger (whatever that is), and though I know folks may have had to do it once upon a time, I have no desire to eat a rabbit or hare. Unfortunately, verse seven breaks my heart: “The pig, for even though it has divided hoofs and is cleft-footed, it does not chew the cud; it is unclean for you. Of their flesh you shall not eat…” There goes the ham, pork chops, barbecue, and bacon! More than likely, most of you have eaten two of those in the past 48 hours! It doesn’t get much better, because verse ten says, “anything in the seas or the streams that does not have fins and scales, of the swarming creatures in the waters and among all the other living creatures that are in the waters—they are detestable to you and detestable they shall remain. Of their flesh you shall not eat…” That means both catfish (which don’t have scales, but skin) and shrimp (which have shells and not scales) are both dietary abominations! Lord help me!
Of course, we can relax about
chapter eleven, because the Apostle Peter had a vision in the tenth chapter of
Acts involving a sheet with all kinds of unclean animals on it and a voice from
heaven telling him to “Kill and eat,” and “What God has made clean, you must
not call profane."[2] In
fact, Jesus himself said in the gospel of Mark, “Do you not see that whatever
goes into a person from outside cannot defile, since it enters, not the heart
but the stomach, and goes out into the sewer?" To which Mark adds the parenthetical
statement, “Thus he declared all foods clean.”[3]
But
then there’s the nineteenth chapter of Leviticus (which follows immediately
after the oft-quoted chapter eighteen), particularly verse 19: “You shall keep
my statutes. You shall not let your animals breed with a different kind; you
shall not sow your field with two kinds of seed; nor shall you put on a garment
made of two different materials.” Any of you ever plow a field with a mule,
maybe while sowing corn on one row and tomatoes on another? Sinners! And woe
unto you if you did it whilst wearing a poly-cotton blend!
Of course, for the ancient
people of Israel, these laws that seem somewhat ridiculous to our
post-enlightenment minds were extremely important, and I think several of them
are still of great value and importance to us today. For instance, the two
verses immediately before the one about not breeding two types of animals and
not sowing two types of seeds or wearing two types of materials says this
(maybe it sounds familiar to you): “You shall not hate in your heart anyone of
your kin; you shall reprove your neighbor, or you will incur guilt yourself.
You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as
yourself: I am the Lord.”
There’s one more interesting chapter
in Leviticus, a chapter that acts as a sort of foundation for our passage from
Isaiah this morning and in many ways as the foundation for the ministry of
Jesus. It’s chapter twenty-five, a chapter that begins with this command: “The
Lord spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai, saying: Speak to the people of Israel and
say to them: When you enter the land that I am giving you, the land shall
observe a sabbath for the Lord. Six years you shall sow your field, and six
years you shall prune your vineyard, and gather in their yield; but in the
seventh year there shall be a sabbath of complete rest for the land, a sabbath
for the Lord:” In other words, every seven years the people were to leave their
land alone, let it rest. They were not to till the ground, plant seeds, reap a
harvest, or even pull weeds: the land was supposed to rest and whatever it
yielded naturally the people could eat (and share with one another and even the
wild animals).
Now, every farmer who has ever farmed will likely bristle at the idea of
leaving their land alone for a whole year, but it’s in the book! And as crazy
as that idea sounds, what follows in chapter twenty-five may be even crazier: “You
shall count off seven weeks of years, seven times seven years, so that the
period of seven weeks of years gives forty-nine years…And you shall hallow the
fiftieth year and you shall proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its
inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you: you shall return, every one of you,
to your property and every one of you to your family.” Every fiftieth year will
be a year of jubilee: a year when financial obligations are forgiven, property
is returned, slaves are freed, the land is allowed to rest—it is a year of joy
and celebration, liberation, forgiveness, and rest. The people of Israel
(according to tradition) were given this command by Moses on the first month of
the second year after their exodus from Egypt (somewhere around the year 1450
B.C.E.[4]),
but there’s little to no evidence they ever actually practiced it.
Move the clock forward to the end of the sixth century B.C.E., and the
third prophet in the tradition of Isaiah takes the imagery surrounding the idea
of jubilee and speaks to the recently liberated people of Judah: “The
spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has
sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to
proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the
year of the Lord's favor.” The promises of jubilee are given to the
people by God through the prophet: good news to the oppressed and
brokenhearted, liberty to the captives, release to prisoners—the year of the
Lord’s favor. It’s jubilee, coming for the people of God after years of foreign
captivity and exile. What’s more, this coming jubilee will be so overwhelming
and wonderful, so thoroughly realized, that the nations will recognize the
people of God by their response to this coming jubilee: “Their descendants shall be known
among the nations, and their offspring among the peoples; all who see them
shall acknowledge that they are a people whom the Lord has blessed.”
The nations will recognize God’s people by their joy. That seems like a
fitting claim on this third Sunday of Advent, Gaudete Sunday (gaudete is
“rejoice” in Latin); it’s the Sunday of Advent marked by the theme of joy. I
can’t help but think that the people of God, experiencing jubilee, would most
certainly be filled with joy. I mean, if I were to go home this afternoon and
find a few letters in my mailbox telling me my student loans, mortgage, and car
note were forgiven, why I might just dance in the streets (even though as a
Baptist, that would be a sin, and I’d have to walk the aisle next Sunday,
still…); folks would know I had my debts forgiven. Or what if you had to sell
your parents’ home—your childhood home—to help pay for a parent’s end of life
care and medical expenses, only to go home this afternoon and find a certified
letter with all the proper paperwork returning your family land to you—wouldn’t
you be tingling with just a bit of joy? Or imagine the outcry of joy if today,
millions of refugees huddled in cold camps, were told they could return home to
their families…that’s what jubilee might have looked like. That would most
certainly capture the attention of the nations.
Of course, amidst all this talk of joy and jubilee, one can’t help but
wonder if it ever really happened. I mean, there’s not a lot of biblical
evidence suggesting that the people of Israel ever recognized the year of
jubilee after the exodus and before their exile to Babylon. What’s more, even
after their release from captivity, the people weren’t exactly jumping at the
opportunity to establish the precedent of jubilee. Why not? I mean it sounds pretty
good, right? Release to the captives, liberation, forgiveness, return…that all
sounds pretty good to the ones needing to be released, to the ones in need of
liberation and forgiveness, that’s good news to those who long to return home.
It’s good news to the lowly and oppressed, but is it good news to the rest of
us?
I suppose that’s why this passage of Isaiah got Jesus in so much trouble.
In Luke’s gospel, Jesus begins his public ministry by reading this passage from
Isaiah in a synagogue in Galilee, by the time he’s done explaining its meaning,
“They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on
which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff.” Why
would folks get so bent out of shape over a passage of scripture about the
coming jubilee of God? Why? Oh, I think we all know why, don’t we? Because if
there is forgiveness going around, somebody has to be doing the forgiving. If
there’s debt being forgiven, somebody’s losing income from the payments. If there’s
land being returned, prisoners being freed, captives returning home, somebody
somewhere is losing something, and that somebody is always somebody in power,
somebody with more than enough to go around. In other words, when there’s talk
of Jubilee, it’s good news—joy—for those with nothing to lose and anything but
good news or joy to everyone else.
Could it be that the reason jubilee has yet to arrive is because there
are so many of us who claim to be the people of God who refuse to let it
happen? Is it possible that those of us who sing the songs of Christmas, who
sing hymns most Sunday mornings, who quote passages from Leviticus, Isaiah, and
Luke are holding back the dawn of the Day of the Lord? Could it be that those
of us who call on the name of Christ are the very ones who seek to throw him
off a cliff at the mere mention of jubilee?
On this third Sunday of Advent, a Sunday marked by the theme of joy,
there are so many in our world who have yet to experience true joy. During this
season, we may be tempted to pursue our own joy as we gather with friends and
family, take vacations, give and receive gifts. But what if this season isn’t
about pursuing our own joy? What if this life isn’t only about pursuing our own
joy? What if, as the people of God, this season (and every season) is about
pursuing the joy of others? What if the ancient practice of jubilee was more
than a novel idea? What if forgiveness was more than a promise from God to us?
What is liberation was more than a spiritual notion? What if joy is truly found
in bringing good news and joy to others?
In this week leading up to Christmas, may you, the people of God, be
bearers of the good news of God’s coming joy. May you be proclaimers of God’s
coming jubilee. May you seek the joy of others this season, and in that
pursuit, find the deepest and truest meaning of joy itself. Amen.
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