A sermon for the eleventh Sunday after Pentecost, Year C Proper 16, 24 August 2025

Do you remember when, at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry according to Luke, he stood up in the synagogue to read from the prophet Isaiah? He read:

            The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.
            He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind,
            to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

Then he sat down and said to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” (Luke 4:18-19, 21)

Here we are in today’s gospel reading (Luke 13:10-17), on another sabbath, in another synagogue, and Jesus, true to his word, is continuing the work of healing, of liberating, of loving that he had first begun.

It is Jesus who initiates the interaction with the weighed-down woman. It is he who chooses her healing, her liberation, before she has even a chance to ask for it. He is continuing his call, living into and living out the promises of our life-giving, liberating, loving God, whose first gift was life and all that sustains it, and perhaps whose second was sabbath: rest, relief, jubilee joy.

So what is it with the leader of the synagogue? He knows as well as Jesus does those promises. He knows the law’s preference for life. His congregation know it; he has taught them well enough in the past – they are all celebrating!

Is he jealous of Jesus, who is able to do what he wishes he could, for his people, his poor, occupied, weighed-down people? “Come on Monday, come on Tuesday, “ he urges them – but if Jesus has moved on to the next village, the next town, across the Galilean sea, how will this local leader heal them without him?

No, there was only the one dissenting voice, and that was the voice of fear, of envy, of a leader so insecure in their authority that he struggled to give himself over to the authoritative mercy of God manifest in Jesus. He was weighed down by his own burdens of worry, of helplessness – what is a leader under occupation? – of hopelessness – what use a prophet who cannot handle, hand out the promises of God? This woman, his congregant, had suffered eighteen years while he watched. This leader was weighed down, too.

He is our cautionary tale: we share in, we share out, we revel in the promises of God; the love, liberation, life that we have in Jesus, but they are not ours to control or restrict or dole out on our preferred days, to our preferred people, those in our network, as it were, at our convenience, according to our prejudices about who deserves freedom, life, love. …

Jesus saw the woman before she asked him to look in her direction. He healed her without hesitation. He lifted the burden from her back and lifted her eyes and voice to what could be, if the promises of God are true, if the love of God leads us.

And the people rejoiced with her – we do, by the way, need to take care that stories like this don’t reinforce our pride and prejudice that these were legalistic and hidebound times and cultures, that we know better – because these people recognized as eagerly and excited as we do – maybe more so – the miracle that is God’s life walking among us.

So I don’t know what’s weighing on you all today. I’ve got a few things on my list. I know I am limited in my power to lift them for myself or for others. And I also know, I believe, that the promises of God are true, that the call of Jesus is clear. I am comforted that he saw the woman’s need before she brought it to him, and that seeing it. he would do nothing less than serve it.

I am comforted by her straightening up, lifting her eyes and her voice and praising God. I am comforted by the near-unanimous response of the crowded congregation, which was to celebrate with her, worship with her, know in their hearts the glorious love of God, and be grateful for their share in it. I hope that in that, they were able to lead their leader back to joy, even if in the moment he was put out, put off by Jesus.

Jesus honoured the sabbath day, kept it holy. By his holiness, by his healing, by his love he taught, he reminded people that the promises of the sabbath are not a set of rules to get right. They are the gift of God to the people of God, weary and weighed down and in need of rest. They are a foreshadowing of the life and liberty that is yet to be realized among us, the reign of God made manifest. The joy of our worship is not a duty, but a response to the one who sees us first, who sees us clearly, who reaches out to heal us with a word, with a weightless word.

As the writer to the Hebrews says, then “See that you do not refuse the one who is speaking” (Hebrews 12:25), for in his presence is life abundant, good news for the poor, release for those bound and bowed down by oppression and sin, recovery of sight to the blind, the grace and favour of God: Amazing grace. Amazing grace.

Amen.