The Wretched Good News: A sermon for Proper 9

The reason I read that first part of today’s Gospel lesson was that I wanted the story to begin where it is supposed to - at the beginning. The lectionary text that was assigned begins right smack dab in the middle of the story. As such, what we end up with is Jesus responding to a question that we haven’t even heard.

The question was asked by none other than Jesus’ forerunner – John the Baptist. John didn’t ask it himself because he was in prison, so he sent some disciples to go find Jesus and ask him if he was the one to come…or were they to wait for another? This question sets up not only the remainder of the chapter that follows, but the entire remainder of Matthew’s gospel. I imagine that the longer John remained in prison, the more he wondered if Jesus was indeed the one. Had John gotten it right? If so, why was he still in prison, and why was Herod still in charge? How long must the people of Israel wait for the Kingdom of Heaven to be fully realized?

The reason I think that John’s question is so important, and why I am so perplexed that it was omitted from the lectionary, is that I think it is one that many Christians would like to ask.

“Jesus, if you are the Messiah, then why is there so much suffering and strife and violence and hatred in the world? When are you going to come back and sort all of this out for us? How long are we to wait, imprisoned in this fallen world in which we live? Are you really the one, or are we to wait for another?”

Jesus answered John’s disciples by saying, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offence at me.”

In other words, “yes…you go tell John that he got it right. I am the one.” But isn’t it interesting that the examples Jesus uses to prove his point are ones of radically transformative healing – the blind receiving their sight, the lame walking, and the dead being raised- rather than the overthrow of Herod’s kingdom and the Roman Empire?

But the question that was on John’s mind is the question that all four of the gospel writers sought to answer – was Jesus the one who is to come? Was Jesus their long-awaited Messiah? The astonishing fact that we are here today, worshipping Christ - 2,000 years and 2,000 miles away from when and where these stories were first told - is a good indicator that Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John all wrote convincing arguments that Jesus indeed was – and still is – the one who is to come.

So, if the case is settled, and we believe that Jesus is the Messiah, then what wisdom or truth does this story bear for us today? One way to explore this question is to use a method of reading scripture taken from the Ignatian tradition, which invites us to place ourselves in the midst of the story. If we engage in this imaginative exercise, and transport ourselves back to the actual time, place, sights, sounds, and smells of the story, what do we discover about ourselves? Who are we in today’s gospel story?

Are we the ones who, in the words of Jesus, “have ears to listen?” If so, are we responding faithfully to what we hear?

Are we among those who “take offense” at Jesus, like when he calls out those who were seeking a leader who wears “soft robes” and lives in a palace?

Are we among those who Jesus calls out for bringing about violence in the kingdom?

Are we among those fickle children in the marketplaces, who will be unhappy regardless of who their leader is or what their leader does?

Or are we among those who live in the unrepentant cities of Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum, who do not respond to the Holy Spirit’s “deeds of power” that are happening in our midst?

Are we among the “wise and intelligent” from whom Jesus says that his Father in heaven has hidden these things?

Or are we John the Baptist, locked up in prison, waiting to be released from captivity – whether it is our captivity by anxiety, despair, fear, poor health, or just ole plain ole apathy?

Engaging in this Ignatian imaginative exercise was a good process for me this week, because it invited me to go deeper into the text, and deeper into my own self. And in doing so, I recognized that if I am honest with myself, I am all those people I just named. And I am also like the Apostle Paul in today’s epistle lesson, and find myself saying, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate… For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.”

Given all that I have just said – given the reality that until Christ comes again we still reside East of Eden - the plea to God in our Collect of the Day to “grant us the grace of your Holy Spirit, that we may be devoted to you with our whole heart, and united to one another with pure affection” serves as a great reminder that if left to the devices and desires of my own heart, I am hopeless. It is only by the grace of God’s Holy Spirit that I can even begin to be devoted to God with my whole heart, and to be united with others in pure affection.

And while my default position is usually to want to be in control, this prayer is a helpful reminder that God’s grace takes an awful lot of pressure off me, because God’s grace is God’s to give, not mine to earn. And my personal experience has been that God’s grace abounds - abundantly and often.

And that was certainly the case for the Apostle Paul in today’s reading, who, after ending his painfully honest self-reflection by exclaiming, “Wretched man that I am!” and then asking, “Who will rescue me from this body of death?” he already knows and is ready with the answer – “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!”

Notice that dying and rising with Christ through his baptism didn’t suddenly make Paul a “good” person. He was still, in his own words, “wretched.” But after his conversion and baptism, Paul was finally able to see himself as he really was, and more importantly, Whose he was really was - a sinner redeemed by the grace of a infinitely loving God in Jesus Christ. And in that process, Paul was finally able to see the ugly truth about himself while simultaneously rejoicing that there is a God who sees that same ugly truth, yet doesn’t love him any less. That is the radical gift of God’s abundant grace for Paul, for you, for me, and for all of God’s creation.

And just as Paul ends today’s otherwise very difficult passage on a high note with the Good News, so does Jesus. As I mentioned before, the Ignatian imaginative exercise with our Gospel lesson for me was a dose of humble pie, as I was able to recognize myself in all the folks that Jesus was calling to task. But the Good News is that Jesus didn’t abandon the people he was reproving that day; and he doesn’t abandon us either. In fact, he did just the opposite. He called the fickle, the apathetic, those who took offense at him, the violent, the unrepentant, and the haughty; he called all of them back to him. And he is calling us as well:

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”