Luke 13:10-17 · A Crippled Woman Healed on the Sabbath
Disabled
Luke 13:10-17
Sermon
by Dave Zuchelli
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It is no longer politically correct to use the word “crippled.” We are now supposed to say “disabled.” I get it, but the Bible was not written in (or to) twenty-first-century people. So please forgive me as I proceed to “kick against the goads” for a while.

Our scripture lesson for today begins with a woman “who had been crippled by a spirit for eighteen years.” This passage poses a double dose of non-PC speech, since it’s no longer cool to believe in demons either. Those nasty spirits have been reduced to quirks in people’s personalities. You’ve heard many people say things like, “He’s dealing with his demons.” They don’t really mean demons, they just like to misuse the word and give it a new understanding.

So in the new PCV (Politically Correct Version), Jesus is presented with a woman who has been disabled by some psychological disorder, addiction, or pervasive habit. Her demon of disability had her hunched over for eighteen years, and it seems no one could help her get straightened out (no pun intended).

Jesus was teaching in one of the local synagogues at the time and couldn’t help but notice the woman and her prominent malady. Unlike other times in Jewish history, women were a prominent part of synagogue worship during the time of Christ. There was no separation of the sexes, and the women were counted among the number for the religious quorum (which happened to be ten). For this ailing woman to be present while Jesus was teaching was not an earth-shattering event.

It did become earth-shattering, however, when Jesus called her out of the congregation. I’m sure there was more than a little murmuring as the startled woman edged her way toward him. Things probably got really quiet when he said to her, “Woman, you are set free from your infirmity.” There were undoubtedly all kinds of thoughts running through people’s minds at that point. “Who does he think he is?” may have been foremost among those thoughts.

As if on cue, Jesus placed his hands on the woman. Scripture indicates that she “immediately” stood up straight. It’s not clear in which town this occurred, but it was probably in one of the small towns and villages in Judea. In that case, everyone gathered for worship that day would have known the woman. They would have understood that her disability was real because they had seen her ambling along, stooped over for the past eighteen years. There was no question about the authenticity of the healing.

There was a lot of indignation, however. This incident took place on a Saturday (the Jewish sabbath). No work was allowed on the sabbath, and any self-respecting Jew would observe that law. The leader of the synagogue obviously felt that healing was some form of work. There were doctors of sorts back then. They were “physicians” who, at best, were people who used herbs, spices, and oils to attempt healing. At worst, they were shamans of a sort and used incantations and magic spells. Either way, they had to “work” to attempt a healing. So in the synagogue leader’s defense, this judgment would have been correct in most other circumstances.

Jesus, of course, was no ordinary physician. In fact, he was not a physician at all. I know we like to refer to him as “the Great Physician,” but he was in a class all his own (for obvious reasons). As it was, it could be argued that he was not doing any work in healing the woman (at least, not in the same sense as an ordinary physician would do). I often wonder why preaching and expounding on the scriptures was not considered work, but laying hands on a disabled woman was. Maybe that’s why the rabbis sat down when they preached and taught. I suppose they looked more relaxed in that position.

Interestingly enough, the synagogue ruler wasn’t audacious enough to attack Jesus straightforwardly. He made his remarks directly to the congregation. “There are six days for work. So come and be healed on those days, not on the sabbath” (Luke 13:14). So in essence, he generally laid the entire congregation low — and in particular, the woman with the eighteen-year demon.

I have a sneaking suspicion that the leader of this synagogue was a bit skeptical to begin with. He was probably looking for some slip-up on Jesus’ part so he could jump in and save the day. He was the leader there, and he didn’t want some stranger horning in on his territory. I may be way off the mark on that one, but it stands to reason. Jesus met with these kinds of attitudes almost everywhere he went. Why should this man be any different than most of the Scribes and Pharisees with whom Jesus butted heads wherever he taught. As we will see in Jesus’ answer, the synagogue ruler was not the only one opposed to what he had just done.

Another aspect of this man’s action may be a desire to stave off any further problem. If Jesus was, indeed, doing work on the sabbath, the ruler sure wouldn’t want any more people getting healed. It would make no sense to permit this itinerant preacher to double down on his sin. The ruler couldn’t just stand by in silence and allow others to step up to be cured. There were, undoubtedly, other disorders represented in the crowd. Wouldn’t each of them want their demons removed? Nipping it in the bud may have seemed like the proper action to take in the heat of the moment.

Jesus, of course, would have none of it. He immediately spoke out — harshly, I might add. He uses the word, “hypocrites.” Note the plural form here. Jesus is not merely speaking to the synagogue ruler. He is speaking to anyone who is in opposition to the healing of this woman. Apparently, there were several. He knows from experience it probably has less to do with the day of the week and more to do with trying to trap the teacher into making a mistake. What they were looking for was a big “gotcha” moment. He wasn’t about to give them one.

Jesus pointed out that each of them didn’t think a thing about untying his own donkey or ox and leading it to water on the sabbath. Isn’t that work? Yet, they were more bent out of shape than this “daughter of Abraham” before she was freed from her bondage on that same sabbath. Hypocrites indeed…

Unlike other passages where we see Jesus casting out demons, very little is made of it here. He does, however, end this discourse by reminding his opponents that it was Satan who had bound the woman for the past eighteen years. Now, Satan has been evicted, the demon is gone, the woman stands upright, and the hypocrites are humiliated. Not bad for a day’s work.

Political correctness aside, evil spirits can cripple any of us. There are spirits of greed, spirits of lust, and spirits of envy (just to name a few). In today’s story, we see a spirit of legalism at work. The enemies of Christ were too bound by the law to stand by and let God work on the sabbath. As Jesus reminded a different group of people at another time, “The sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath” (Mark 2:27). To place the day above the dire needs of a human being is not God’s way. Legalistically interpreting God’s laws is a spiritual problem with which we all need to deal. It seems as though most of the religious leaders of Jesus’ day were not willing to do so.

On the other hand, Jesus was anything but legalistic. His compassion (and maybe all human compassion as well) transcends the law. His detractors may have been technically correct. Still in the end, they were humiliated for their attitude. We can take a lesson from their stubborn adherence to the law even as it flies in the face of human decency.

The synagogue ruler’s attitude is disturbing on most levels. He saw truth as being on his side, and he allowed it to make him insensitive to the disabled woman’s plight. Healing may indeed be work, but the greater principle displayed by Jesus is his compassion. Thus, he is completely accurate (and within his rights) to use the descriptive word, hypocrites.

By his actions and words in this passage, Jesus is telling us that restrictions, laws, rules, and institutions can be important — even good. But if we aren’t careful, they can keep us from the charity to which we are called. Compassion is always appropriate. Love God and love your neighbor. When you’ve accomplished those two things, you can point to your scribal laws — but not before.

Society has a way of dehumanizing us. We can become slowly desensitized to the plight of others around us. Increasingly, we fail to see the worth of humanity before a righteous God. The woman in Luke’s story had been dehumanized. She had been reduced to little or no value to others. The laws of Moses had become more important in people’s eyes than a disfigured woman. As much as the woman’s back was bent, a legalistic spirit bent someone’s soul even more.

Nothing can choke the heart and soul of our walk with God like legalism. I will be the first to admit that Christians should be disciplined. However, we can become so rigid in our beliefs that our disciplines can cripple us.

Does this mean we should chuck any and all of our rules? Of course not… Most of them are in place for a good reason. As long as that reason is still in existence, the rule is probably effective and necessary. But we should never allow our rules to rule over us. Even our laws need to be sanctified by the sanctifier (God’s Holy Spirit). And if they are not worthy to be sanctified, they should be jettisoned.

Jesus told us he “came to seek and save the lost.” (Luke 19:10) He certainly did that. But along the way, he did a few other things as well. The healing of the woman with the crippling spirit is just one example. Too many times, our penchant for doing what we think is right actually gets in the way. We become like the synagogue ruler and his cohorts. We would rather stand in Jesus’ way than have him do something with which we don’t agree. Our attitude becomes one of, “Lord, touch this man’s life; but make sure you do it the way I want you to do it.”

We are not the healer, the Savior, or the lawgiver. We are his witnesses. When the witnesses begin to lay down the law to the healer, we are running afoul of God’s purposes in this world. Jesus is the Savior of all — even our humanity. Never allow the law to demean that humanity. Each of us is precious to him. We should be precious to each other as well.

We Christians like to say, “Love the sinner, hate the sin.” That’s okay as far as it goes, but don’t let it go too far. Don’t allow your hatred for someone else’s sin to negate your compassion for them. Ask yourself the question we like to wear on our wrists. WWJD — What would Jesus do?

The answer is clear. He would love the sinner. He would have compassion for that sinner. He would eat, speak, and hang out with that sinner. Taking actions like those often ran afoul of the Jewish religious laws. Doing them rendered one unclean — disabled, if you will.

The woman with the crippling spirit was a sinner. She was in need of healing. Jesus didn’t allow legalistic attitudes disable his ability or willingness to do something about her condition. When we walk with Jesus, we dare not allow our own attitudes to cripple our ability to follow in his footsteps.

CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Watch this!: Cycle C sermons for Pentecost day through Proper 17, by Dave Zuchelli