Nehemiah 8.1-3, 5-6, 8-10, Luke 4.14-21
The Fourth Sunday of Epiphany, 27 January 2019
Austwick, Clapham, Keasden
This week I heard a homeless woman talking about how it feels to be ignored by passers-by.
“Being walked by, over and over again, is one of the most damaging things,” she said. “Even if someone approaches you and does say something stupid, if it’s done with beautiful intentions I think it’s alright.” [1]
A report by Crisis UK highlighted the shocking levels of violence and harassment aimed at homeless people, with more than one in three rough sleepers being deliberately hit or kicked. [2]
And Jesus said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.”
I also heard a woman called Sarah from Leeds who had to give up her job when she got cancer four years ago - and now with only a subsistence income and no family or friends nearby, she finds herself virtually a prisoner in her own home.
“Bus fares have just gone up again,” she says. “Many a time I’ve actually stayed in because I can only afford the bus ticket or I can afford a coffee, it’s hard to do both, whereas before it wasn’t a problem. I’ve really pushed myself to the point that I have to get out at least once a week, just to be able to have an outside world.”
According to research by the British Red Cross and the Co-op, over 9 million people in the UK say they are always or often lonely. [3]
And Jesus said, “He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives.”
The Council of Lutheran Churches last week hosted an event entitled, “The Psychological Impact of Brexit on Europeans living in the UK”. There, the psychotherapist Dr Susie Orbach said Brexit is like being in a “broken home” and is a “traumatic event”, which is why it is so hard for all.
Dr Orbach said: “Like a broken relationship, we go over and over and over the outrage. This is a trauma response - when you are traumatised, you live in uncertainty, an unknown territory, and in our case unknown political and social territory, and that is very destabilising.” [4]
We might say that at this point in our history we are oppressing each other; we are oppressing ourselves.
And Jesus said, “He has sent me to let the oppressed go free.”
These words recorded in Luke Chapter Four, this declaration of Jesus in his home town of Nazareth, his careful and deliberate selection of words from the prophet Isaiah, it’s sometimes called his Nazareth Manifesto: good news to the poor, release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, freedom for the oppressed, and proclaiming the year of the Lord’s favour - which is about releasing people from debt.
This mission statement of his, came in or around his thirtieth year. It took him thirty years to formulate. We know that from the age of twelve we he was in the Temple learning and reflecting on the mission of God in the world, and we can assume that in the intervening years he was out there in Nazareth and the surrounding towns and cities, out at work, out on the streets, out there with the people, observing, listening, forming an understanding of how life really was for them, and how that often differed from what God really intended life to be for them.
The Nazareth Manifesto was a resolution of Jesus which would underpin his teaching about the incoming kingdom of God. In a world where people were fearful of others - the poor, the sick and disabled, those from different places or walks of life, Jesus showed a way of love which overcomes fear. Jesus drew to himself a community of people of many different backgrounds, people who ordinarily would be isolated from each other by fear.
He did astonishing things like host a meal in the house of a leper, where his invited guests ranged from the highest religious leaders to a poor woman who anointed his feet with perfume. When he once said ‘the poor will always be with you’ he meant that if you want to overcome your fears of others and live a life of love then you’ll spend lots of good time in the company of the poor. [5]
And lots of good time listening to the lonely ones; and forging friendships with those whose points of view oppress us - in humility that we may be oppressing them too; and helping those caught up in debt to find ways to be free.
Mother Teresa once said: “It is fashionable to talk about the poor. Unfortunately it is not fashionable to talk with them.” [6]
We live in a fearful age. With our fears often whipped up by an all-pervading media, we ‘tend to be most preoccupied with those dangers that are among the least likely to cause us harm, while we ignore the problems that are hurting the greatest number of people. We suffer from a confusion between true threats and imagined threats.’ [7]
We fear the unknown - we fear others simply because we do not know them; to protect ourselves from the largely imaginary threats they pose, we separate ourselves from them, and live life in ever-decreasing circles of people just like us.
But Jesus invites us to put our fears aside and reach out to others. Whenever people asked Ghandi if he was a Christian he would say, “Ask the poor. They will tell you who the Christians are.” [8] The joy of living the way of Jesus is to be found in relationships which cross boundaries. The hope in living the way of Jesus is to be found in relationships which build human understanding.
And Jesus said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.” And you and me, the baptised, are anointed to do just the same.
A Rabbi asked his students how to recognise the moment when night ends and day begins. “Is it when, from a great distance, you can tell a dog from a sheep?” one student asked. “No,” said the Rabbi. “Is it when, from a great distance, you can tell a date palm from a fig tree?” another student asked. “No,” said the Rabbi. “Then when is it?” the students asked. “It is when you look into the face of any human creature and see your brother or your sister there. Until then, night is still with us.”... [9]
Notes
[1] Dorothy Allen-Pickard, Noah Payne-Frank and Jess Gormley, The Bystander Effect: Neuroscientist shows how our brains dehumanise homeless people. Guardian Culture video, 2 January 2019.
[2] James Beavis, 'Spat on and ignored': what I've learned from a month sleeping rough in London. Guardian, 6 January 2017. Quoting Ben Sanders and Francesca Albanese, "It’s no life at all": Rough sleepers’ experiences of violence and abuse on the streets of England and Wales. Crisis UK, 2016 [pdf]
[3] Fighting Shame. A group of women from Leeds share stories of poverty through eight everyday objects and the community initiatives they’ve launched to fight the shame that surrounds it, in a bid to start a dialogue with policymakers. The Guardian, 25 January 2019
[4] Adam Becket, Brexit is like being in a broken relationship. Church Times, 25 January 2019.
[5] Shane Claiborne, The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical, p.151. See my sermon The ones we fear, we crucify, Somerset, Good Friday 2017.
[6] Shane Claiborne, The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical, p.151. John Davies, The ones we fear, we crucify, Somerset, Good Friday 2017.
[7] Eula Biss, Confessions of a reluctant gentrifier. Guardian, 11 April 2017. Referencing Barry Glassner, The Culture of Fear: Why Americans Are Afraid of the Wrong Things: Crime, Drugs, Minorities, Teen Moms, Killer Kids, Mutant Microbes, Plane Crashes, Road Rage, & So Much More. John Davies, The ones we fear, we crucify, Somerset, Good Friday 2017.
[8] Shane Claiborne, The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical, p.151. John Davies, The ones we fear, we crucify, Somerset, Good Friday 2017.
[9] Dorothee Soelle, The Strength of the Weak: Toward a Christian Feminist Identity, p.41; as quoted in Christopher Craig Brittain, Religion at Ground Zero: Theological Responses to Times of Crisis, p.79.
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