"He set his face..."

 

Sermon. Trinity 2. 26 June 2022

Gospel: Luke 9.51-62

 

Fundamentalists are people who take the Bible literally. Every word of it. Equally. Simply. Others, those who are not fundamentalists, do not take the Bible literally. They (we) put the words of the Bible into context. They (we) do not only translate; we interpret.

 

So we are told. So perhaps we tell ourselves. So let me say very simply that I do not believe this. Nobody - nobody - takes all of the Bible literally. It cannot be done. All readers, including “fundamentalists” interpret Bible verses. And today’s reading contains a good example which makes my point. 

 

Jesus says: “Let the dead bury their own dead”.  This is not presented as a riddle to muse upon. A real man has told Jesus he has a real dead father in need of burial. And there is nothing in the Greek to soften the command. An overliteral translation would be: “Leave/let/permit the dead [persons] to bury the of-themselves dead [persons], and you, having gone away….”. Abandon this responsibility! Yet there is not and never has been a Christian group of any flavour which has taken this dominical command - this explicit command of our Lord and Saviour - literally. All Christians interpret this verse, putting it in context.

 

This of course does not tell us anything (or anything much) about how to interpret the Bible. But it can be good, any way, to drop the pretence that one option Christians have is to read the Bible literally.

 

How, then, might we read and interpret today’s Gospel?

 

It has all the qualities of a turning-point. Jesus has recently been transfigured. For Luke, this means, among other things, that Moses and Elijah talked with him about the Exodus he was to “about to fulfil” in Jerusalem [9.31]. And now comes the time when Jesus is determined to go to Jerusalem, to be “taken up” [analempsis]. Exodus; ascension. Strong hints here, of the crucifixion, and also surely also strong hints that the crucifixion will be so much more than it seems.

 

The Exodus-Ascension of Jesus must take place in Jerusalem. Why? Because Jerusalem is the centre of certain kinds of power and religious hypocrisy? Well, that may be the case, but it is not as simple as that, at least, not for Luke. Luke actually holds Jerusalem and, yes, the Temple within Jerusalem in very high regard. His gospel begins and ends with people in the Temple, and they are godly people behaving in godly fashion in what is clearly at heart a godly place. It is a place of authentic prayer and praise.

 

And Jesus “sets his face” to go there. He is determined. My suggestion is that here we have an allusion to Isaiah (to set alongside Moses and Elijah), and especially the Suffering Servant of later Isaiah. Hear these verses from Isaiah 50 [5-8]:

“The Lord God has opened my ear,
    and I was not rebellious;
    I did not turn backward.
I gave my back to those who struck me
    and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard;
I did not hide my face
    from insult and spitting.

The Lord God helps me;
    therefore I have not been disgraced;
therefore I have set my face like flint,[1]
    and I know that I shall not be put to shame;
he who vindicates me is near.”

 

Notice the – I think we can call them - paradoxes here. There are insults, but no real shame. There is pain, but also vindication. We had better be clear that these paradoxes are offered to us too. Not long before the Transfiguration, Luke has Jesus says this [9.23]: “If anyone wants to come after me, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily…”. (Only Luke has that “daily”).

 

Thus, let us face it boldly: in the Christian life, there are insults, but no real shame; there is pain, but also vindication.  The Church is spending a huge amount of time and energy trying to work out how to make our faith and our life attractive to those who have no connection with the Church. But/and surely we owe such people candour, the kind of candour which says that the Christian life is not one of comfort, or even of comfort-seeking, only. Insults and pain are somehow also part of the mix.

 

But! That also does not say all that needs to be said. As Christians, we do not seek out insults or pain (that would be a madness). Rather, the mix – the paradox – we are thinking of comes about because… well, strange to say, it is because that is how Gd’s love works itself out in the world.

Gd loves you,

but Gd’s love is such that it is both inviting and disturbing.

It is radical love. It is love that has its roots in love.

Rowan Williams has put it well:

the Light that is shining on you is so much brighter and sharper

than you have feared at your most fearful.

It brings to light even the things you have succeeded in hiding from yourself. 

And, with that, it is benign.

It is a light which warms and welcomes and embraces you

more delightfully than you have hoped at your most hopeful.

 

Love, both inviting and disturbing, tends to disturb the powerful most. How could it not? They have most to lose, if the illusions and delusions, the lies, the manipulations and the coercions of power are exposed. And so, this goes some way to explain why, as we live as Christians, there are insults, but no real shame; there is pain, but also vindication. As we invite others to consider the case for the Christian life, let us also remind ourselves of this paradox, and, that it stands for an adventure like no other.

 

We are free,

truly we are free,

truly we are free here and now,

to connect with the excitement – the excitement the people we have heard about in today’s gospel felt, when they heard Jesus say:

“Follow me…

follow me now…

follow me urgently…

follow me immediately…

follow me adventurously…

for I have set my face… towards you.”

Amen.

---

[1] The linguistic references with the LXX are pertinent if indirect.

Isaiah 50.7: “alla etheka to prosopon mou hos sterean petran…” – I placed my face as a solid rock

Luke 9.51: “…autos to prosopon esterisen…” – he made solid the face.