Jubilee, Today
Luke 4:14-21
Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.
When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:
‘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.’
And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, ‘Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.’
Luke really starts the story of Jesus’ ministry in Galilee with a bang. There are versions of this story, of Jesus teaching in the Synagogue, and what follows, his rejection at Nazareth (which we’ll talk about next week) in both Matthew and Mark, but in they come much later. It’s probable that they’re historically and chronologically more accurate, but… Luke doesn’t care. Luke places this story at the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry for a reason. He is telling all who hear and all who read this text—this is what Jesus is all about. Jesus is here to bring good news to the poor, to release the captives, to bring sight to the blind, to free the oppressed. There is no ambiguity here. Jesus is quoting from the prophet Isaiah here, from chapters 61 and 58, saying this is why I’m here.
But it’s not just these famous Isaiah passages that Jesus is reading from and referencing. When he says that he’s here to “proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor,” that’s a reference to Jubilee.
Now, in our kind of stoic, no-nonsense Protestant traditions, some ceremonies and rituals have been, sadly, I think, left behind. Even traditions like Ash Wednesday or Lent are often not observed in many Protestant traditions. Chris, who grew up on the more evangelical side of things, said that before meeting me he thought Ash Wednesday was a “weird Catholic thing” as he so eloquently put it. The Catholic Church does, indeed celebrate Jubilee—for them it’s a day of universal pardon of sins and debts. But Jubilee is something that we still don’t hear much about in our tradition. I, myself, had to do a lot of research to really understand it for this sermon— but in the Jewish tradition, Jubilee happened every 49 or 50 years (there’s debate about which), and during a year of Jubilee, indentured servants would be freed of their bondage and contracts; non-commercial debts would be forgiven; crops wouldn’t be hoarded, and whatever surplus there was at the time of Jubilee would be shared with all, and the land would get its own sabbatical, a rest to be renewed itself, to let nature take its course. It was to be a time of celebration and freedom. And it was kind of a re-set. Everyone, everything is back to zero, back to freedom from obligation, freedom from burdens, free to regroup and renew.
What a concept— relief. Debt forgiveness. Freedom from bondage, freedom from what is holding people back from enjoying their lives, from starting their lives. For years we’ve been begging those in power to forgive the college debt millions are saddled with. For years we’ve been begging those in power to forgive the medical debt that millions people are buried under— debt they went into for the crime of wanting to continue live. And for generations, people have claimed this country to be a Christian nation, and yet we seem to forget that even in these most ancient and seemingly archaic of days, there were customs in place to relieve people of their struggles— customs we’ve conveniently disregarded.
Before Jesus begins reading from the scroll, Luke makes note that he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day “as was his custom.” “As was his custom” is to emphasize that Jesus was a good and observant Jew. He wasn’t slacking, he wasn’t doing any blaspheming. He was observing the rituals as he should. One of those observances was proclaiming “the year of the Lord’s favor,” something that the Jews hadn’t been able to do under Roman rule. Do you think the oppressive Romans were cool with just forgiving everyone’s debt every half century? I don’t think so. How would they ever hold onto their power if they gave everyone a reset like that? Just let all their servants and slaves go free, stopped collecting on their high-interest loans, gave everyone back their ancestral land every 50 years or so? Can’t imagine they’d have many people under their thumb for much longer!
And yet— here is Jesus telling the people of his home synagogue, many of whom have probably known him since he was a precocious, little boy, that he is here to free the oppressed by proclaiming that the year of the Lord’s favor has come. Sound the trumpet. Jubilee is here. “Today the scripture has been fulfilled…” he says.
“Today,” he says. The first word of his earliest recorded days of ministry in the book of Luke is “Today.” How urgent, how prescient. How much we yearn for that today to be… today. All eyes “…in the synagogue were fixed upon him,” as he stepped down from the lectern. We will find out next week what was happening behind the eyes of the congregants. But for now, for today, all we know is this… all we know is the today of it all. “Today the scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing,” Jesus says, dozens of eyes boring holes into him.
How could Jesus’ “today” be the day of Jubilee? How could Jesus’ “today” be the day of freedom of bondage and relief from debt? The Romans were still in charge. The laws of Jubilee likely hadn’t been practiced for generations; and Jesus making this statement in his home synagogue certainly wasn’t going to convince any Roman leaders; it wasn’t going to convince any Jewish leaders either, living under the boot of Roman occupation. So what does he mean when he says that “today” this beautiful scripture about the oppressed and prisoners being set free, about a long overdue Jubilee is fulfilled?
He's telling his people what is possible. We can have a world free of debt, free of slavery, free of all forms of oppression. That day can be today. Jesus is saying, “Here I am, and if you want to be free, follow me. If you want to work for this kind of world, come with me, because I’ve been sent to bring this world to fruition. I’ve been sent to show you what’s possible if you truly want it.”
A few days ago, the controversial businessman Sam Altman, who is the CEO of OpenAI and one of the leading figures and proponents when it comes to the rise of artificial intelligence, made a kind of cryptic tweet— the tweet read, “build monuments in the desert.” This is a reference to the 1818 Percy Shelly poem, Ozymandias. It’s a sonnet, relatively short, so let me read it to you—
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desart. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
No thing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
I have a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Altman does not understand the meaning of this poem. In this poem, a traveler stumbles upon the ruins of a monument to a king, a king who proclaimed that all should look upon what he’s done and despair, for they will never be a king of kings like him! But— the monument is a ruin. This powerful and arrogant man’s works no longer exist. Ozymandias is not a household name in the world of this poem. This poem is about how all that’s left of this angry king are ruins and a miles-long stretch of barren sandy lands. This poem is about the hubris of humankind, about people who ignorantly and arrogantly believe that they and their cruelties will last forever, that they will always have control of this land owned by God and God alone. In the book of Leviticus, chapter 25, where the rules for Jubilee are recorded, God gives very specific rules for when and how a landowner can harvest produce, and in verse 23 God says, “…the land is mine; with me you are but aliens and tenants.” Humankind’s inclinations towards selfishness exponential growth make us arrogantly disregard or simply forget that we are guests on this divine land, and we should treat the land with deep reverence and respect.
Jubilee was partly a sabbatical for the land. The people need rest. The land needs rest. The people need relief. The land does as well. Unfortunately, we live under an economic system that requires infinite, endless growth, which a., is simply impossible on a planet with finite resources, and b, ends up exploiting workers and those who are already struggling and desperate in the name of the economy, in the name of ever growing wealth. The idea of Jubilee is that before things get too out of whack, everything gets reset.
While the rules and the numbers in the book of Leviticus seem antiquated and irrelevant for a society like ours, moved far beyond the agrarian way of life, the Rabbi, author, and activist Arthur Waskow muses about what Jubilee can still mean for us today, how we can proclaim it today, how we can proclaim it as today. He makes note of the passage I mentioned above, of we humans being but guests and renters on this land. “…corollary to that basic assertion, is an overarching social vision not of ‘economic growth,’ but of a pulsating economy that includes the release of debtors and creditors from the bonds of debt.” That’s not that irrelevant to us. We have people drowning in debt and anxiety, working multiple jobs while wages stagnate; there was a reason these rules of jubilee were set in place in ancient times, and there’s a reason we need to be inspired by them now. Waskow then writes, “In Leviticus 26, the Torah asks ‘What happens if you refuse to let the land observe the Shabbat to which it is entitled?’ And answers that the land will rest anyway— through desolation and exile.”
No matter what a powerful and cruel king does to build himself up, he cannot win against time. He cannot win against nature. He cannot win against an inevitable reset, one way or the other. So wouldn’t be better to practice a little more humility? To work a humane reset into our own society, before nature does it for us, in ways dangerously out of our control? Imagine a world in which we forgave all debts and set the dial back to zero. Imagine a world in which all those unjustly detained were set free, a world in which the poor received the good news that they did not have to live in squalor anymore.
The both infuriating and incredible thing is—that could happen today. Today could be the day the captives are set free and the homeless have homes and all debts are forgiven. Scarcity is a myth. We have everything we need to create a just world for all. Unfortunately, those who have hoarded all the power would prefer to build monuments in the desert, destined to crumble into nothingness rather than give up some of their power and wealth to help usher in a true jubilee.
Well… let them. Let them build their monuments. While they build themselves up, we will build each other up. We will continue to live by the true values of Jesus— the values exemplified very intentionally in our passage today. Jesus says, plain and simple: God has anointed him to bring good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives, bring sight to the blind and free the oppressed, to proclaim the year of Jubilee. “Today this scripture has been fulfilled.”
This can happen today. This can happen now. We have the tools. We have the resources. Most of us, I believe, I really do believe, have the empathy and love to make this reset happen, to make that happen today. Last night at the roast beef supper, Melissa, our amazing dining room organizer was looking around the room and said, “I love people.” I responded, “Yeah, they really are mostly good.” Melissa said back, simply, “They really are.”
It’s not just that we have the physical resources for Jesus’ today to truly be today. We have the emotional ones too— compassion and the love. The powerful people who want to build monuments to themselves want to scare that out of us. Don’t let them. Instead, let’s proclaim a year of Jubilee today, and let’s live as though that year is nigh—by living by the values that Christ preaches from Isaiah in the synagogue. And by working for a world in which Christ’s today finally, at long last, is truly today. Amen.
