Showing posts with label Luke 1. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Luke 1. Show all posts

Monday, October 24, 2016

That Wee Little Man – 30 October 2016 – 24th Sunday after Pentecost/ Lectionary 31/ Proper 26

Where in our world today do we see the sort of faith or desperation displayed by Zacchaeus: hungry just to glimpse love and mercy and willing to be ridiculed for displaying the need? “He was trying to see who Jesus was...” Is that not also our cause?

Luke 1:1-10

Apparently Zacchaeus' wealth didn't count for much when it came to getting a front-row seat. Despite (or maybe because of) his being a representative of the Roman government, the crowd does not part so that Zacchaeus can see Jesus. The cultural mores of the time expected men of position to always maintain their dignity in public. They did not hitch up their robes, expose their knees and run through the town. But Luke tells us that love impelled the father of the prodigal son (chap. 15) to do all those things. Nor did men of status climb trees. Can you imagine the laughter and taunts of the crowd when they saw such a spectacle? But Zacchaeus would not be deterred; he lets nothing stand in the way of his seeing Jesus. – Joseph McHugh

One of the fascinating aspects of this story is that Zacchaeus asks nothing of Jesus. His goal is just to see this man he's been hearing about. He figures if he scurries up a tree, then when Jesus passes by, he'll get his look. Just a look; that's all he's after. But what prompts him to only want to look? . . . [H]e couldn't imagine a holy man such as Jesus was reported to be to paying any attention to him at all. The very religious were those most likely to shun him and deal with him only because the Roman law required it. – Jerry L. Harber

Isaiah 1:10-18

The prophet denounces a shallow religion that knows all the proper forms and rituals but is lacking sincerity of heart and purity of life. We can actually hear the disgust the LORD feels: “I have had enough of burnt offerings”. . . “incense is an abomination to me” . . . “I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity.” And the reason for the LORD's loathing is the chasm, the great abyss between what the rituals represent and what the lives of the worshipers truly reveal. Offering “many prayers” (v 15) will not gain the LORD's attention when the hands of those who pray are full of blood. Rather, the Lord requires both the cessation of sin—“Remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good”—and the living of virtuous lives—“Seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.” – Joseph McHugh

2 Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12

When Paul talked about Jesus coming into a life, he said, the result would be to produce such a change that the person had to be described as a new creature. . . It would be a noticeable difference to all who knew this person, but perhaps even more important, it would be noticeable to the person to whom it happened. This is the mark of restoration—that like Zacchaeus, we behave differently.

So here we are today, looking for Jesus, much as Zacchaeus did. And here we will encounter him and he will invite us to sup with him. What will we do in response to that affirmation and acceptance? Will we surprise anyone? – Jerry L. Harber



Jerry L. Harber, a retired United Methodist pastor, has served as campus minister at Univ. of Tennessee, faculty member at Memphis Theological Seminary, couples counselor, and clergy staff of Church of the Holy Communion, Episcopal, in Memphis, Tennessee.

Joseph McHugh is a freelance writer from New Jersey, and a former weekly newspaper columnist writing on lectionary readings whose writing includes a revision of Rev. Melvin L Farrell’s Getting to Know the Bible (ACTA Publications, 2003).



Homily Service 40, no. 12 (2007): 21-33.

Monday, December 14, 2015

Being the Magnifier – 20 December 2015 – Fourth Sunday in Advent

Although this Sunday is the end of the Advent season, we can begin to think about Christmas because we hear Mary’s song. She invites us to sing with her so that my soul and your soul also “magnify the Lord.”

What is unique and most interesting about Christians celebrating Christmas, as distinct from the way in which the world celebrates Christmas, is the way in which we join Mary and Elizabeth. Christians believe that Christmas is the fulfillment of all that God has said to us, all that he has promised through Micah and his prophets, all that heals our broken relationship with God, our expulsion from the Garden, our broken humanity and garbled tongues.

Christmas is not to us merely the birth of an incredibly interesting, nice, loving guy with the enhancing opinion that we all should be more like him. Christmas is not people feeling kindness toward others for a few days because of Jesus—the Christmas truce—followed by the inevitable return to the focus on promoting self and killing each other (even with a good deal of romantic irony) if we need to.

Christmas is about Christians believing that the fulfillment has already happened: that in Jesus Christ heaven and earth have come together to live on the same page, that in Christ, God and humanity are at peace and working together in tandem, in a new relationship that makes the old estrangement obsolete, a New Covenant, a new understanding of God and ourselves together.– John E. Smith

Luke 1:39-55

Ah! The Magnificat! Perhaps it is a year to sing more than to preach. Our poets and composers have plumbed the depths of this canticle. Perhaps we should let them have the spotlight. After all, the people will return tonight and again tomorrow. There is plenty of time to talk. Let the people hear Mary's song—or, even better, sing it themselves. Perhaps they will better grasp the reversals that this God, our God, promises—those which Miriam Therese Winter captures well in her verse: “Love casts the mighty from their thrones, promotes the insecure, leaves hungry spirits satisfied, the rich seem suddenly poor” (The New Century Hymnal, #119). – Scott Haldeman

Micah 5:2-5a

The history of world politics, with few exceptions, suggests that power alone can speak to power. This strategy, if it is one, seems to bring mostly conflict rather than peace. Micah seems to suggest that only by standing in the strength of the Lord will we be secure and find peace. While there are many examples of ancient and modern saints who provide the truth of this, who are the exemplars in your community today? What have your learned from them? – Ron Anderson

Hebrews 10:5-10

This week's reading from Hebrews, of all of the readings appointed this Advent season, reminds us that the mystery of the incarnation we now celebrate is not fully interpreted without reference to the mystery of Christ's death and resurrection. In churches that celebrate the Eucharist each week, this connection is clearly heard and celebrated in the Eucharistic prayer. Whether you celebrate the Eucharist today or not, how will you make this connection clear in your preaching, praying, and singing? – Ron Anderson

May your spirit rejoice as you prepare for this last week of being prepared by God to welcome the One in whom you have found favor.



E. Byron Anderson is the Ernest and Bernice Styberg Professor of Worship and the Director of the Nellie B. Ebersole Program in Music Ministry at Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary in Evanston, Illinois.

W. Scott Haldeman is associate professor of worship at Chicago Theological Seminary, Chicago, Illinois.

John E. Smith has served as a Methodist pastor for many years.

Homily Service 40, no. 1 (2006): 41-51.



Monday, December 15, 2014

Let it Be – 21 December 2014 – Fourth Sunday of Advent

The angel Gabriel came to Mary and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” And, in the end, Mary’s response is “Here I am . . . let it be with me according to your word.” Said in another way, Mary embraces the power of the Messiah, the savior of the world, to change her life.

Today’s readings (Luke 1:26-38; 2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16; Romans 16:25-27) are deeply intertwined, as Paul Bieber wrote in Homily Service in 2005, emphasizing that the identity of the Savior is two-fold: descendant of both David and of God.

The identity of the Messiah as the Son of David goes back to the promise we hear in the first reading, where the prophet Nathan promises David that his royal house will be established forever. But David's dynasty fell in 587 B.C.E. The promise was not fulfilled in the expected manner, but in a surprising, unexpected way.

Even before we get to the fulfillment, observe that notice of the promise comes about in a surprising, unexpected way. Living in his palace, King David has a bad conscience because God has to live in a mere tent. He wants to build the LORD a house to dwell in. Not an unusual desire. Down through millennia, people have built temples as places to worship their Gods. They thought of the deity or deities in territorial terms, the God of this place or that place. But the God of the Old Testament dwelt in a tent, leading [the] people on a pilgrimage. This God didn't need a fixed structure . . . but preferred to live within the community, moving about among all the people. Our God is not planted in one place but travels about with us. The God who dwells in a tent rather than a temple is a God on the move.

This God found residence in a house, a temple of human flesh. The central event in the building of this house is the coming of the Son of David—not to Jerusalem, to the daughter of scribes or priests, but to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin named Mary.  . . .

Mary's conception is a divine creative action; it is a new work of the overshadowing Spirit, that same Spirit that hovered at the creation of the world when all was void.

In revealing to Mary the twofold identity of Jesus, Gabriel is speaking both the language of the Old Testament prophets about the Son of David and the language of the New Testament preachers about the Son of God: language that Paul in Romans specifically calls “gospel.” Thus it is no exaggeration to say that Mary has heard the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and indeed is the first one to have done so. When she says yes to this Gospel, she becomes the first disciple. When she says yes to this Gospel, she shows us something important about our discipleship.

He is the unique Son of God as well, the very presence of God with us, Emmanuel. Anything less is not the Gospel, and assent to anything less will not make us disciples.  And assent to that twofold identity is not just intellectual assent; it involves being willing to hear Jesus’ proclamation of God's will and doing it.

That means being willing to face the annunciations in our lives. That means radical obedience, like Mary's, which is deceptive in its simplicity.

– Paul Bieber

Given the many prophetic voices we have heard in this Advent season, Ron Anderson asks us to consider whether Mary’s voice may be the strongest of all.



Paul Bieber is pastor of All Saints Lutheran Church, San Diego, California.  

E. Byron Anderson is the Ernest and Bernice Styberg Professor of Worship and the Director of the Nellie B. Ebersole Program in Music Ministry at Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary in Evanston, Illinois.

Homily Service 39, no. 1 (2005): 37-49.