“He has anointed me
to bring
good news to the
afflicted...
to proclaim liberty
to the captives,
sight to the blind...
to proclaim
a year of favor...”
--Luke 4:18-19
In today’s first readings we hear that stirring passage from
Nehemiah (cf.8:2-10) that tells of the unrolling of the scroll and the reading
of the law before all the people and how the people began to weep when they
heard the law. But Nehemiah, Ezra and
the Levites remind the people that this is a day not for weeping but for
celebrating. The law is supposed to be a source of consolation and renewal and
joy, not an oppressive burden.
And there is an echo of this story in the Gospel for
today. Jesus unrolls the scroll and
reads from Isaiah the passage I quoted above. And when He finishes, says something
so beautiful it astonishes His audience: Today
this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing. (cf. 4:21)
Jesus is the Word of God, the Law come in person into their
midst –and what does he bring? Fearful judgment and hard justice? That is not
what He comes to proclaim. He comes to
proclaim liberty to captives, sight to the blind, and good news to the
afflicted! Liberty, sight, and good news; a year of favor. Quite a jubilee, I would say. That is what Jesus brings, the same Jesus who
tells us elsewhere that He has not come to abolish the law, but to fulfill
it. He is the fulfillment of the
law. In the next several chapters of
Luke we will see Jesus go about healing the blind, setting people free from illness
and demons, feeding the hungry, cleansing the leper, and proclaiming a message
of love and mercy. This is the law in
its fullness abiding among us; He is the law.
When I wrote about that passage from Nehemiah a few months back I focused on the weeping of the people. I was struck by their tears,
because I had recently read Deuteronomy (and Leviticus and Numbers) and the echoing
of all those laws, those restrictions, regulations was still reverberating in
my head. In a half ironic mode, I had to
wonder if some of those tears weren’t tears of dread: Lord, what have we got ourselves into! Weren’t we better off not
knowing? But, in all seriousness, we are never better off in ignorance.
Because ignorance is captivity.
Ignorance is slavery; it is life in Plato’s cave; fearing shadows. The law sets us free. But how can that be? If the law sets regulations on our behavior,
then aren’t we simply trading one for of slavery for another?
And I guess that depends on how we look at the law. Do we see “the law” (the Ten Commandments,
the Deuteronomic code, etc) as a rule book meant to control our behavior, a way
of keeping us in check? Or do we see it
as a guidebook, an instruction manual, that helps us live our lives more fully,
more completely, more joyfully?
Do you hear the law as good news? Does it set you free? Or
does it sound like the turning of a key in a lock, the clanking of shackles
fastened to your ankles?
Does it open your eyes? Or does it feel like a darkness cast
over them?
How do you see the law?
Recently someone at my house told me I was being passive
aggressive. Their words hurt. It was like a stinging slap to my face (or my
ego). And my gut reaction was to lash
back. To defend myself with excuses and reasons for why I had behaved and
spoken the way I had. But, whether my
reasons were valid or not, what I was really saying is: I don’t want to see
that truth. I don’t want to know that
truth. I would rather be blind to it. I
would rather be ignorant.
But –with time, and reflection—I realized there was truth in
what they said. There was a truth that could only set me free if I accepted it
and let it dwell in my heart. There words
opened my eyes to something I had not wanted to see, but something that was
true and something that was becoming a bit of a habit. And I could only be set free from the
captivity of my own habits and ego if I listened and accepted and let myself hear
them not as something to fear, but as “good news.” A chance to grow and change
and become better. I had to adjust the way I received those words. I had to receive
them not as a slap on the face, but as a kind of nudge –like bumping up against
a guard rail that protects us from going over a dangerous cliff. It is hard to accept sometimes, but occasionally
we need to be corrected. That’s how we get better: whether it is at math or spelling,
fixing a dryer, or just being a husband.
How do we hear the law? I think the good news is this: regardless of what we think, the sound of God’s
law is always the sound of a door opening.
