Luke 4:14-30 · Jesus Rejected at Nazareth
Harmony and Humor: The Ties That Bind Christianity’s Many Christianities
Luke 4:14-30
Sermon
by Leonard Sweet
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Let’s begin this morning with a song. Please stand. Most of you know the song “Beneath the Cross of Jesus.” If you don’t, you are hearing our organist/pianist/keyboardist play it right now as I’m talking. On the PC-USA webpage, there was posted a hymn written a week ago by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette. It addresses in song the Haitian disaster where, according to the most recent estimates, between 100,000 and 200,000 Haitians perished. The words are sung to the tune of “Beneath the Cross of Jesus.” I invite you to sing this song with me as we begin worship.

Let us pray these words to God. And as we do, let’s join in singing these words in harmony together. Let’s get beyond everyone singing the same note and the same beat, which I call uniformity singing rather than unison singing. True unison singing is done by harmonizing our voices as we offer to God this beautiful hymn of prayer written by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette, “In Haiti, There is Anguish” (St. CHRISTOPHER 7.6.8.6.8.6.8.6 ["Beneath the Cross of Jesus"].

1. In Haiti, there is anguish that seems too much to bear;
A land so used to sorrow now knows even more despair.
From city streets, the cries of grief rise up to hills above;
In all the sorrow, pain and death, where are you, God of love?

2. A woman sifts through rubble; a man has lost his home,
A hungry, orphaned toddler sobs, for she is now alone.
Where are you, Lord, when thousands die - the rich, the poorest poor?
Were you the very first to cry for all that is no more?

3. O God, you love your children; you hear each lifted prayer!
May all who suffer in that land know you are present there.
In moments of compassion shown, in simple acts of grace,
May those in pain find healing balm, and know your love's embrace.

4. Where are you in the anguish? Lord, may we hear anew
That anywhere your world cries out, you're there - and suffering, too.
And may we see, in others' pain, the cross we're called to bear;
Send out your church in Jesus' name to pray, to serve, to share.

Please be seated. Thank you for that unison singing, and for that beautiful harmony this morning. What a great way to begin worship and to reflect prayerfully on the images and sounds the media have brought into our homes this past week.

This morning I want to make a case for a thesis that comes with two theorems. The thesis is this: There has never been something we could call “Christianity?” There has only been, not “Christianity,” but “Christianties.”

What has held these many “Christianities” together are two things: harmony and humor. The harmony theorem comes from our text this morning. The humor theorem is extra-lectionary but equally biblical, and comes from other scriptural passages and stories.

First, let’s look at the harmony theorem to the “Christianities” thesis. Then we’ll end with the humor theorem.

We were able to sing the Haiti song in unison because somewhere along the line we learned the same language. Learning any language is not easy. But learning a language other than your native one takes more than lessons in grammar and vocabulary. Part of the success of “Rosetta Stone” language software is its recognition that every language has its own distinctive tonal qualities: its rhythms, its cadences, its pitches.

A musical and multi-lingual friend recently declared that he had decided to learn a new musical instrument. When I asked him what this “instrument” was he wants to master, he replied “Chinese.” He’s right: Chinese is a language that is as much sung as it is spoken.

When children first learn the magic of music, everyone sings or plays the melody. We have to learn to recognize the melody line, to identify the major themes in the music, before we can embellish, deepen, widen, the tonal range. But knowing the melody alone is not “music.” True music has a range of tones, harmonies, counter-melodies, dissonances, resonances. It is the complexity of all these influences that creates a sound signature; that creates vibrations in our soul; that creates music.

Every musician who was in the forefront of a new musical movement was initially ridiculed. Using instruments alongside voices was dubbed confusing and muddled. Bach beat a repeating theme to death. Mozart was full of flighty themes that went nowhere. Shostakovich was a cacophony. Jazz was without form and void. Rock and Roll just wasn’t music. Rap was rancid. Yet all are music. All forms, all influences, all visions, bring another layer of harmony, of depth, to the symphony that is the history of music.

The history of Christianity sounds like the history of music. Each time a new tone was revealed, each time a new harmony was sounded, each time a new dissonance added depth, the common crowds have cried out for a single note. The first hint of complex harmonies was revealed by Jesus when he first spoke in his hometown synagogue after his Spirit baptism.

Jesus had been bar mitzvahed at thirteen years of age. He is now nearing thirty. Surely Jesus had read scripture and lead prayers before in his small hometown house of worship. The incident Luke reveals in this week’s gospel text is not Jesus’ first appearance in his local synagogue. But it is his first post-baptism, Spirit-infused utterance to his childhood friends and neighbors. And they cannot help but hear the different notes his message is now sounding.

No sooner does the Nazareth synagogue get its hopes up and glimpses the unique fame that their home-grown prophet might bring them when the local boy bursts their bubble and introduces a shockingly wider harmonic.

When he invokes the legendary legacies of Elijah and Elisha . . . “Good for you, Jesus! Right on!”

But when he highlights their most dissonant lowlights . . . “Jesus, what are you thinking? You can’t be serious!”

Of all the wondrous things accomplished by Elijah, why focus on keeping some ratty widow and her sickly son fed and well? Of all the miracles worked by Elisha, Elijah’s hand-picked successor, why highlight his curing some warmongering leper in Syria’s military?

Jesus always offered a singular, simple melody line: For God so loved the world. But at the same time, Jesus always played the simple melody of faith in complex arrangements.

For example, Jesus lets his disciples, both those in the first century and those in the twenty-first century, learn from the layers of players. Jesus didn’t come to show us how to homogenize but to harmonize the song of faith.

And whenever the church has most exerted its energies to homogenize and make Christianities one Christianity, hasn’t there been a boomerang of harmonics?

When weaving fabric, horizontal lines must be conscripted to create an overall pattern. To accomplish the complete design sometimes random threads of vibrant color will suddenly appear and disappear. Looking at these threads line by line, they don’t seem to make much sense. But later, when the larger patterns begins to emerge, their placement and purpose are obvious.

The first century Jews who followed Jesus thought that embracing Gentiles was an abomination, a corruption of the true and pure faith. It’s a story that was played over and over again in the last 2000 years of Christian history. By bringing together different “parts” into harmony with Christ, each “part” enriched and embroidered the fabric of Christian faith in remarkable ways.

Christianity most manifests Christ when it sounds its most complex tones. When only one line is sung, that’s when we come the closest to losing our pitch. Hear the Crusades. Hear the Inquisition. Hear the Salem witch trials. Hear the Ku Klux Klan. Hear the Nazis.

The cross isn’t the only scandal that marks our faith. Christians are scandalous in so many ways. Long before Jesus was convicted as a criminal of the state, as a heretic of faith, and was executed in the most public, excruciating, and humiliating way, he was advocating scandal. Jesus recruited apostles from smelly fishermen. That was scandalous. Jesus dined with despised Roman tax collectors. That was scandalous. He walked among the wicked, pressed the flesh with lepers, socialized with social outcasts, offered advice to adulterers. That was scandalous. Jesus engaged with the outcasts — the Gentiles, the blind, the sick, women with questionable backgrounds, men with indisputable badness in their blood and bones. Jesus spoke the best to the worst. That was scandalous. Jesus gave the most lost the best maps. That was scandalous.

Jesus never sounded the same note twice just to hear it ring again.

Here is the most scandalous thing about Christianity: a life lived in and through Christ can be lived many different ways. The ultimate scandal of Christ’s way is that harmony, not homogeneity, is our legacy.

In his hometown synagogue, before the friends, neighbors, and relatives he grew up with, Jesus had the ultimate opportunity to “go for the gold,” to “preach to the choir,” to appeal to the galleries.” All he had to do was tell them what they wanted to hear and what they already believed — that they were the chosen people and that God’s plans for human redemption put them first and foremost.

Jesus didn’t do that. Instead he sounded a new note, a more complex chord, a harmonic chord that resonated with God’s universe and God’s design. Instead of “enemies” or “others” Jesus intoned the music of forgiveness, acceptance, repentance, rebirth. Instead of isolating and ostracizing “the other,” Jesus encouraged and welcomed a “oneness” based on inclusion, not exclusion.

We are more alike than we are different. We share more than we disagree. Our hearts hurt, our hands help, our backs bend, and our feet hurt—all in the same way. Paul loved to use the human body as an example of unity and diversity together. The hand does this, the eye does that, the foot does another. But all ultimately are connected to the body.

The twenty-first century question is this: how big is our body? How long are our arms and feet? How big are our hands and heart? How many different gifts and graces does this one body have? Is this body still developing stronger muscles and tougher talents?

But there is one more theorem that binds together the many Christianities of Christianity. That theorem is humor.

The Christian faith is made for humor. “Ah ha” and “ha ha” go together for the Christian. Jesuit priest and Georgetown University scholar James V. Schall goes so far as to speculate that God may have created the world just so that we could laugh, laughter is that important to life (James V. Schall, Unexpected Meditations Late in the 20th Century [Chicago, 1985], 86).

The kinship of laughter and faith is made clear from the moment Jesus founded his church: “Petras on this Petra I will build my church.” Did you hear it? Jesus is punning and playing with words here. The Christian church is founded on a pun, friends. And for a church founded on a pun to be nervous around humor or to ban laughter is a sin. When Christians become a gloomy group they are betraying their heritage, part of which comes from the Hebrew tradition:

“Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. . . The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.” (Psalm 126:2-3)

“Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.” (Proverbs 31:25)

Don’t you love that phrase, “Laughs at the time to come”?

In some ways, the church has no one to blame but itself for John Lennon’s imagining (in “Imagine”) a world without religion. John Lennon, the Beatle, said that he gave up going to church after the vicar threw him out for laughter. After that he went to church every morning, in the temple of his own head (as referenced by Timothy Radcliffe, Why Go To Church, page 1, from a 1969 interview broadcast on BBC’s “Sunday,” 13 July 2008).

Our ancestors in the Middle Ages used gargoyles to laugh at the devil. Gargoyles with grotesque faces defended the church and its holy places with the power of parody, laughter and mockery. After all, the promise of the beatitudes was this: those who mourn or weep will be comforted and able to “laugh.”

It has been our ability to “laugh” at ourselves, and to laugh at life, that has enabled the many Christianities of Christianity to play together side-by-side. Humor and harmony are the greatest detoxifying forces in life and in faith.

There is very little in life that a good laugh, and some good harmony, can’t cure.

Every one of you this morning came here to church with something that ails you. Here is some medicine for whatever ails you. It’s a list of some hymns the way we'd sing them if we were honest:

I Surrender Some
There Shall Be Sprinkles of Blessings
Fill My Spoon, Lord
Oh, How I Like Jesus
I Love to Talk About Telling the Story
Take My Life and Let Me Be
It is My Secret What God Can Do
There is Scattered Cloudiness in My Soul Today
Onward, Christian Reserves
Where He Leads Me, I Will Consider Following
Just As I Pretend to Be
When the Saints Go Sneaking In
Sit Up, Sit Up for Jesus
A Comfy Mattress Is Our God
Oh, for a Couple of Tongues to Sing
Amazing Grace, How Interesting the Sound
Lord, Keep Us Loosely Connected to Your Word
Praise God from whom All Affirmations Flow
My Hope Is Built on Nothing Much
O, God, Our Enabler in Ages Past
Pillow of Ages, Fluffed for Me
All Hail the Influence of Jesus' Name!
When Peace, Like a Trickle
I'm Fairly Certain that My Redeemer Lives
What an Acquaintance We Have in Jesus
My Faith Looks Around for Thee
Blessed Hunch
Above Average Is Thy Faithfulness
Spirit of the Living God, Fall Somewhere Near Me
Blest Be the Tie that Doesn't Cramp My Style

I began this sermon with a hymn. Now let me end it with one. Richard Leach is one of the church’s greatest living contemporary composers of hymns and anthems. I want to conclude the sermon this morning by reading to you a hymn (“Hope is a Candle”) he wrote for the Church of Scotland. I shall be reading it slowly so that your mind can linger and your soul luxuriate in the power of its words that bring together harmony and humor, love and laughter, the ties that bind Christianity’s many Christianities:

Hope is a candle once lit by the prophets
Never consumed though it burns through the years
Dim in the daylight of power and privilege
When they are gone, hope will shine on.

Peace is a candle to show us a pathway
Threatened by gusts from our rage and our greed
Friend feel no envy for those in the shadows
Violence and force their dead end course.

Joy is a candle of mystery and laughter,
mystery of light that is born in the dark;
laughter at hearing the voice of an angel,
ever so near, casting out fear.

Love is a candle whose light makes a circle
Where every face is the face of a friend
Widen the circle by sharing and giving
God’s holy dare love everywhere.

Christ is the light that the prophets awaited,
Christ is the lion, the lamb, and the child.
Christ is the love and the mystery and laughter - candles make way! Christ is the day.

ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Collected Sermons, by Leonard Sweet