Jesus and a Jubilee Life
Epiphany 3C  |  Luke 4:14-21

Last week, we took a detour into the gospel of the evangelist we call John. But now we’re back in Luke and it is full and so very prescient.

When we were last in this gospel, two weeks ago, we had the baptism. If you’re following along in your Bibles, we go from there to the genealogy of Jesus.  Then, Jesus is swept into the wilderness for what we like to call The Temptation. But it is really Satan’s attempt to tempt Jesus. Calling it the Temptation of Jesus or The Temptation in the Wilderness has a way of putting the onus of this event on Jesus, as if the temptations merely appear out of nowhere — as if the questions are naturally occurring — and not the product of Satan’s work.

We’ll be talking about those temptations in the next season of the church, so we won’t dig into them now, but we must remember them today because that story progresses into this story, and the subject continues, reverberating into this one.

And what we see in Satan’s gambit with Jesus is to tempt him with power. Three different ways, forms, and perspectives on power. And what is power but the desire and means of control. Control over our destiny, other people, and even God. This, after all, is the desire at the root of power, to wrest authority away from outside ourselves and place it in our own hands. Even if it means stealing it from the almighty above.

We see this today in the declarations that God is rewarding some and punishing others for sporting events or policy choices. Which seem far less problematic than, say, manifest destiny and the claim that God is on the side of genocide.

Teaching in the Synagogue

When Jesus goes home after Satan’s Failure, we get this fascinating encounter at a synagogue with a triumphant, passionate, and honest Jesus. This is a remarkable passage — of which we only get the first half — just listen to these words and phrases:

• a report about him spread
• He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.
• He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him.
• The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him.

And then, the very next verse after this says:

• All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.

But then they start to get snarky and choose to stop listening — because he’s the carpenter’s son, right? And they know his family.

Of course, if we had read the end of chapter three out loud we would have just heard about his family. That carpenter father was a descendent of David. This man before them now isn’t just neighbor; he is also Messiah. And they are blind to it. And it is our hope that, in this, the year of the Lord’s favor, that recovery of sight to the blind doesn’t just include those reactionary fools, but us, too.

The Year of the Lord’s Favor

What will happen in the rest of the passage is that Jesus will be clear that they are shutting down; but this isn’t about him. They think it’s about him, but this is the year of the Lord’s Favor.  And history has shown that God’s grace isn’t for the wicked who refuse to participate in the Kin-dom-building that is the Lord’s favor, who reject the prophets who are sent to bring the people home to do that work.

They no doubt think the Lord’s favor is about being showered with riches for being the Lord’s favorites. But it is about doing the Lord’s favor and finding God’s grace is generously offered through it.

In the first half of this passage, what we get this morning, Jesus reveals the true nature of God’s grace and in the second half, he reveals the way people work against it. Is there any surprise that they don’t like the rest of the message?

So what is this grace that Jesus is revealing through the reading from the scroll of Isaiah? And what is the year of the Lord’s favor about?

It’s the Jubilee.

Jesus’s teachings, particularly the language around the Kingdom of God or the Kingdom of Heaven are formulations of the Levitical concept of the Jubilee year, which is the Sabbath of seven Sabbath years.

The Sabbath is the seventh day, right? On it we rest.

But the Sabbath is more than rest; it is about restoration, healing, and generosity. It is a day to be observed by everyone, regardless of status. And if you don’t have the means to be healed, restored; to eat and survive; then others are mandated to help.

This is why sections of farms and orchards are to be set aside for the hungry. Farmers are forbidden from harvesting every crop because there are people who will have nothing to eat. And in God’s eyes, it is theirs, not yours to profit from. 

We then have a Sabbath year in which every seven years, we treat the whole year like a Sabbath. So then, after seven sets of Sabbath years, we celebrate the half-century with a year of Jubilee, when all debts are forgiven, all slaves are freed, prisoners are released, property is returned to who owned it before, and the world is restored to what it was before people started exploiting each other.

That’s the Jubilee. The year of the Lord’s favor. A time of freedom and recovery. And like Sabbath, we are receivers and practitioners. By reserving the time for holiness, we can receive holiness.

It is about power

I’m frequently asked the sensible-sounding question: Has the Jubilee ever been practiced? The answer is, disappointing if not surprisingly no. But this is proof, not of a problem with the Jubilee or God’s command, of course, but with us. And why Jesus can speak so directly to the most predictable elements of human history. That we have consistently chosen not to follow God’s commands when it comes to freeing people and restoring property. Just like we’re fine with loving people as long as it doesn’t threaten our safety; releasing the captive, too, as long as we don’t have a reason to detain them, punish them, or deny them any liberty or dignity.

This is also why we begin this story with power. That Jesus refuses to use or claim power that isn’t for him. To control his environment, the people around him, or God.

Jesus rejects that power. But the people don’t.

They want it. And we want it.

For ourselves. To have more than enough to live on. To be able to do whatever we want, when we want. Or to have our own home, a fridge full of groceries, and maybe some nice clothes.

We also want that power for our church. The power to never worry about church budgets again, to become extremely popular in the community and universally loved, making it rain with dollar bills in the plates and butts in the pews.

And let’s not even get started about the city, state, nation, or global community!

The core question about Jesus’s revelation is not whether or not we are doing things right. It is whether we are listening to him or rejecting him.

Real

In the gospel we just read, the people stop listening to him. They’re going on about who they think he is, while he just revealed the moment they were in. Nah! He’s only a carpenter’s son!

What Jesus reveals here and it becomes true in his death and resurrection is that a permanent Jubilee of redeeming grace is just on the other side of this veil. We are to participate in bringing it here.

Our attempts to make that Jubilee life look strangely like Rome or Constantinople or London or Washington or Indianapolis has a way of making the truth seem impossible. That Jesus’s teaching about freedom and economics is a pipe dream, impossible, rather than his command to us. 

You know, the parts of the gospel it’s OK to ignore.

Worrying about wealth, popularity, political influence, consumerism: that isn’t living a Jubilee-life, my friends. And mourning over its loss isn’t either.

We are called to free people. To feed people, heal people, reconcile people. To be the hands and feet of Christ to people. To live in a way that other people see us and can say huh, that’s what Jesus looks like.

But before all of that, there is a more fundamental question: Can you see Jubilee? I don’t mean theoretically. Really see it. In the red eyes of someone so concerned about another person’s safety, that it brings tears to their eyes. And as they tell you about what they did, how they helped, you see him. Jesus. And you didn’t do anything directly, but listened. You were the servant watching water become wine and heard the steward call it “the good wine” and you get to see Jesus, not only in the suffering but in the helping and the healing and the comforting and the generosity and the joy and you cry and you tell someone else about this thing that was so beautiful. That is Jubilee.

And every attempt to measure it is hubris. Power/control. Evaluation and certainty. The ways of oppressors, not God. 

This is the year of the Lord’s favor, my friends. It looks like Jubilee. Joyous! Generous! And full of such love and gratitude that we have no choice but to throw a party. Not if we can afford it, but because celebrating life is what Jesus cares about. And if we’re listening, we will help make it happen.