14^th  Sunday after Pentecost – Year C(Lectionary 21)

Luke 13:10-17 

                          Abiding by Sabbath

On one of my vacation Sundays this summer, I went to another church for worship.  Going to a different church is a good thing for a preacher to do; especially one who has been under call to a specific congregation and leading Sunday services for 30 years.  Unless you go somewhere else, after a while you tend to forget how differently the people of God worship God.  And the people of God do worship God quite differently. 

Sometimes we like the differences; sometimes we don’t. 

A few years back, when the “new” students came to Clemson and found their way to UniLu, there was among them the son of a pastor friend of mine.  This pastor friend had made sure that I knew the child was coming and that I knew how to get in touch with him.  Trouble was, when that child came to worship for the first time, the report he gave his father was “they sure do things differently up here.” 

I don’t know that the son ever came back.  His father and I are still friends.  We still (occasionally) laugh at how difficult it can be for our children to adjust to something which is different.   

I don’t want to over-simplify the tension which underlies Jesus’ conflict with the leader of synagogue in today’s Gospel lesson, but it is possible to see this whole encounter as conflict between differing ways of worshipping God.  The exchange emerges from preferences in how one spends time with God.  Jesus wants the Sabbath gathering place to be a place where that which ills us is exposed and addressed.  The leader of the synagogue would prefer synagogue time to be dedicated to following the ancient customs which had preserved Judaism through the centuries.   

We do a disservice to the leader of the synagogue if we allow ourselves to think that he was just being an old curmudgeon.   

We over-simplify the situation if we think the only reason the synagogue leader critiqued Jesus’ behavior is because of a dis-interest in the fate of a crippled old lady.   

More importantly, failing to appreciate what is happening between Jesus and this synagogue leader might prevent us from understanding that differences in worship style do not exists simply so we can frustrate others; they arise out of a heart-felt interest in finding the way which we can best relate to God.  The way which is best for me is seldom (if ever) the best for everyone else.  What I prefer is likely to be different from you would find most helpful;  likely to be different for those of us who have chosen to gather here as contrasted with those who are gathering a few blocks down the street, or a few miles down the road. 

Let me go back to my disclaimer, just for a moment:  I don’t want to over-simplify this exchange.  And certainly/clearly Jesus and his immediate followers had many such exchanges with those whose understanding of Sabbath behavior and Sabbath laws needed to be challenged.  The legalism which had crept into Jewish religious life was robing Judaism of its greatest gift and its finest attributes.  But then legalism tends to do that – in every situation. 

There was a simple solution to the problems which Jesus exposes by his challenge to the leader of the synagogue.  The Sabbath is God’s gift to God’s people.  It was given, and continues to be given, as an opportunity to set aside the agenda of the world and to embrace God’s vision.  It is God’s way of caring for those whom God loves so dearly.  The legalist of first century Judaism had turned what was intended to be a day of rest and an opportunity to hear God’s Word into a day of obligation and duty.  The encounter between Jesus and the leader of the synagogue was over something more significant than preferences. 

But preferences, expressed some centuries earlier, where what lay behind what had by Jesus’ time become a rigid rule or law.  The leader of the synagogue didn’t simply decide that he wanted to ignore women with crippling spirits.  He was protecting a way of approaching God which had developed – among the faithful - over the centuries.  He was preserving the place and the style of gathering which had enabled him to experience God and to become a servant of God.   

That style/that set of preferences had worked!  Here he was, the leader of the synagogue, preserving the ancient readings and customs of a people whom God had set apart; a people who had been challenged by invading armies; and whose leaders had been carried off into captivity by the Babylonians.  

He wasn’t being an old curmudgeon; he was passing on what had first been entrusted to him.  

When I went to that other church earlier in the summer, there were moments when I liked what I was experiencing.  I thought a couple of times, “We ought to try that at UniLu.”  But, if I am completely honest, there were more moments when I felt out of place or ill at ease or just plain confused.  And while I did enjoy being on vacation, I was also eager to return to this place, to be with all of you, and to the style of worship which most clearly communicates to me God’s love of me. 

Maybe you have been here long enough or often enough to prefer the style that has developed over years in this place.  You may be among those who are more recent additions to this community – and you may still be trying to decide whether this is the way of being together is a way likely to assist you in advancing your faith.  The customs or practices which are on display here this morning have arisen as a result of years, or decades, or even centuries of prior assemblies.  We defend them with the honor due something that has sustained and cared for God’s people.   

But – and this is a really bit but – we must always be prepared to step outside our style and customs long enough and far enough to ask whether they are continuing to accomplish that which we had intended.  No one sets up a shallow, empty, misdirected custom.  Every preference or practice began as a heartfelt response to God and to God’s goodness.  But over time, it took on a life of its own, and became empty. 

“We have never done it that way,” isn’t the response of a non-caring, protector of the past.  It is the request of a faithful disciple that the surroundings which brought me this far in my journey not be so drastically altered as to make my continuation uncomfortable, or even impossible. 

God wants us to become comfortable, to be at ease, to relax.  Nothing allows that happen better than familiar surroundings and well-worn practices.  But that old pair of tennis shoes which gently hug the contours of our feet will not do the same for anyone else. 

God created the earth; and then God gave us the Sabbath.  It is a time to stop all the activity and hustle of the week; it is a chance to turn our attention to that which matters, to that which is of eternal importance.  How we do that will vary from place to place, from person to person.  We need to find our own way, and stick with what helps us.  But occasionally, we need to take a good look at our way and make sure that we ourselves haven’t turned into some old curmudgeon – that we haven’t started defending some ancient practice or rite, handed down to us but now totally empty of its ability to communicate to others what God is up to or where God is calling us.

It only takes a few decades for century’s worth of insight to become lost in wave of legalism.  And once it gets lost it is a very difficult thing to find it and dig it out. 

Amen.