Year C Epiphany III Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10 Luke 4:14-21

All the people of Israel gathered together into the square before the Water Gate. They told the scribe Ezra to bring the book of the Law of Moses, which the LORD had given to Israel.

The scene painted for us this morning, which scholars estimate must have occurred somewhere around 538 BC, isn’t difficult to imagine. Jerusalem at this time was surrounded by a high wall, and there were gates for incoming and outgoing traffic. One gate certainly had to be located near a water source, vital to any city. So, the people, the remnant, those who had made the journey back from Babylon have gathered there.

It has been 70 years since the Children of Israel were led away into captivity in Babylon, and in anyone’s reckoning, 70 years is a long time. It seems even longer when you consider that in those days the average life span was around 40 years. The Jews, who when they began their long exile wrote poignantly, “By the waters of Babylon, we sat down and wept,” are now long gone, and many of their descendants have become shop keepers and successful residents of Babylon.

When King Cyrus tells the Jews they may return home, not everyone is eager to leave.

According to Jewish tradition, Ezra has tried his best to encourage his fellow Jews to return, but in the end, the remnant is small compared to those who left 70 years earlier. Also, Ezra is a purist, and has done what he can to clarify the lineage of the Jews in Babylon and to get them to leave their non-Jewish wives and families, certainly not a persuasive way to encourage those in that situation to return to Jerusalem.

There has been a lot of intermarriage over seventy years, many Babylonian Jews are settled and happy just as they are. As they have merged with the pagan society around them, there has been a lot of forgetting of Jewish ways, Jewish Laws, and Jewish customs and traditions. Thus, during the exile someone or some group, and this is sometimes attributed to Ezra alone, has gathered together a book comprised of what we known as the first five books of our Old Testament, and what became known, and is known to modern day Jews, as the Torah.

The group we encounter today, gathered before the water gate, is made up of those Jews who wished to “return home”, but who had no experience of exactly what that might mean. Thus, on the day in question:

The priest Ezra brought the law before the assembly, both men and women and all who could hear with understanding…. He read from it facing the square before the Water Gate from early morning until midday, in the presence of the men and the women and those who could understand

Ezra wanted the people to hear their story. Some Jewish traditions claim they sat there in the pouring rain, but whatever the weather, they stayed, and they listened. What they heard kindled the fire of their faith within them. God had not left them alone. God was there among them, in their rituals, in the Law, in their very hearts and souls. Then they bowed their heads and worshiped the Lord with their faces to the ground.

While the way in which they worship, kneeling with their faces to the ground, differs from our form of worship, we understand what is happening, the awe, the comfort, the strength that they feel as the Torah is read aloud to them. Of course, over the years of exile, many have forgotten the Hebrew language, so there are even interpreters present, so everyone might understand what they are hearing. And it is the power of God, of the Spirit that comes to them and lets them know that they are not forgotten, not forsaken, even after such a long time away in exile.

And the people weep. Some must have been relieved to hear their story, hear the Law, and feel the affirmation, and thus weep for joy. Some must have been ashamed of the sinful lives they have lead in Babylon, and weep with contrition. No matter what the cause of their tears, it is not going to be easy to live as God has called them to live, to change, to reset their priorities. But that is what they are charged with on that day.

Then Ezra said to them, "Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions of them to those for whom nothing is prepared, for this day is holy to our Lord; and do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength."

Our Gospel reading this morning, like that from Nehemiah, offers us another situation into which we can imagine ourselves fitting. We could be among those who have gathered for worship in the Synagogue. We could be sitting there with our friends and relatives waiting to see what the hometown Rabbi has to say. Everyone knows His reputation, so everyone is eager to hear Him speak.

Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about Him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.

Our Gospel reading makes it clear that Jesus is a devout and practicing Jew, in that He regularly attends synagogue. In today’s reading, according to custom, as a Jewish man and a recognized Rabbi, He rises to read from scripture.

Jesus reads from the Hebrew Bible. Interestingly, though, He doesn’t read a set paragraph from Isaiah. He begins with one part of the scroll then rewinds to another.

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."

We sit in the congregation and listen. “The Spirit of the LORD is upon me.” These specific words were always understood by the Jewish people as pointing to the Messiah, the promised one who would save Israel. And the reading continues with glad tidings for the poor and freedom from captivity. This is what the Jews are waiting for, hoping for. Here is talk of a Messiah, one who will come and lift the Roman yoke and return Israel to its proper place and glory in the world.

People must be paying close attention now, waiting to hear what Jesus next has to say. Who knows what they were expecting? He hadn’t done a whole lot yet. He’d been baptized, gone into the wilderness, and He’s just begun His ministry. We’re told in the paragraph just prior to this story that “report about him spread through all the surrounding country,” but we aren’t told of what that report consisted.

It’s likely the people were expecting something, but they had no idea what that something was. What it probably was not was what came next.

As we follow our Gospel reading with a sermon, the normal procedure in the synagogue is to follow the reading with teaching. That is, after all, what Rabbi means, teacher!

Jesus sits down, and looking at them as if He really expects a response He says, “Today, this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

Jesus’ listeners are initially pleased with what they consider to be His gracious words, but do they really grasp what He is saying? This is a hometown boy who has made good as a Rabbi, and of that they are proud, but He’s hardly the fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah, hardly the awaited Messiah.

This morning’s Gospel makes us reflect on our own expectations as we attend church on Sunday or any day we attend a service. The people in the synagogue had their set routine, as do we, and, much as there are today, there were accepted teachings about the passages of scripture. People came to worship expecting that normal routine, and, filled as they were with their own expectations, there was no room for something new. And that is what Jesus was, it is what He is, something entirely unexpected, entirely new.

How filled are we with our expectations? Is there room in us for something new, for the unexpected action of the Holy Spirit?

Consider this, the people in the synagogue that day were just folks like us, going about their daily lives, worshipping regularly, following their traditions. They were, as we so often are, preoccupied with their own lives. And as normal and harmless as that sounds, it meant they totally missed the fulfillment of their hope, unware that they sat in the living Presence of God.

Because we are human, because the world and our lives distract us, it is easy to not be open to the Spirit, to Jesus. We are daily assaulted by the upheavals and pleasures, the worries and the joys, the distractions and expectation of our lives. But despite all this “noise”, Jesus is always present, to be found in the silence of our heart. As the hymn says:

Let all mortal flesh keep silence, And with fear and trembling stand; Ponder nothing earthly-minded, For with blessing in His hand, Christ our God to earth descendeth [present tense] Our full homage to demand.

Let us pray:

O God of peace, who hast taught us that in returning and rest we shall be saved, in quietness and confidence shall be our strength: By the might of thy Spirit lift us, we pray thee, to thy presence, where we may be still and know that thou art God; we ask Lord Jesus in Your Name. Amen.