Third Sunday after the Epiphany [Proper 3], rcl yr c, 2022
1 Corinthians 12:12-31a; Psalm 19; Luke 4:14-21
There’s an icon of Christ in Saint Catherine’s Monastery in Egypt that’s become well-known for a couple of reasons. You’d probably recognise to see it. It’s well-known partly because it’s the first icon to depict Christ in a particular way—it’s been copied all over the world in many different styles. I have one in my home office that Karen brought home to me from Ukraine a few years ago.
The two characteristics to this style of icon that they all share, is that Christ holds up one hand in blessing; and that in the other hand Jesus holds a book of Scripture.
There’s something a bit odd about the one in St. Catherine’s Monastery, though, that very first one, something that gets copied sometimes too: the two sides of the face of Christ in the icon are different, one side with harsher characteristics, and the other side with softer more gentle characteristics, probably intending to give a visual depiction of the two natures of Christ, one divine, and one human.
Even if all versions of this icon don’t do this strange divided face of Christ, they are all, most certainly intended to portray Christ in a certain kind of fulness: it is an image of the Lord of the Cosmos who, as the word of God, takes part in creating the universe and who rules over the universe; but it’s also an icon of the Christ who is the Word incarnate, the Word of God made flesh, dwelling among us, the one who would do what he does in our reading today: the Word made flesh who would step into a synoagogue in his hometown, and open the Scriptures, the Scriptures he holds in his arms in that particular icon.
Much like the icon that can represent essential, but seemingly irreconcilable things—that the divine ruler and partaker in the making of the world is also the humble man from Nazareth—so does our Psalm describe other seemingly irreconcilable differences. Perhaps we’ve grown to understand that there is a big difference between the God of the Old Testament and the Jesus of the New Testament, between the God who creates (and who may feel very distant) and the Jesus who teaches wise commandments (and who probably feels a bit more personal and closer to us).
But Psalm 19 offers a far more comprehensive vision of the one God. Psalm 19 gives us, on the one hand, a vision of the God who has made the universe to reveal his glory—the heavens and the earth, day and night, the sun on its course, right out to the furthest edge of the universe—all of this declares the glory of the God who made it.
But then, without even a transitional verse, sentence, or even phrase, Psalm 19 seems to just jump track! Immediately it speaks of the same God, but now the God whose law is perfect, whose wisdom revives the soul; it speaks of the God whose testimony is sure and wise, as if there were no distinction to be made at all between the God who creates the universe in its greatness, and the God who offers wisdom to us in our humility; these are simply one and the same God for the Psalmist, dead stop!
No rationalisation or explanation.
It’s simple: the God we worship is both the creator in all glory, and the one who cares to offer us wise ways to live.
Similarly, in our Gospel, the Jesus who walks up and reads from the scroll is not just the local kid, Joseph’s son, who left town to do some growing up. He is that local kid, but Jesus also makes a pretty big claim about himself:
that the promises made in Isaiah about good news to the poor, release to captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed: Jesus claims that this Scripture had been fulfilled that day in him.
And in his ministry, this is exactly what Jesus is doing: he is Joseph’s son, that local kid; and his is also the one who would inaugurate the kingdom of God, giving us a taste of what is to come soon in fulness: healing, peace, justice.
Now the whole episode doesn’t turn out all that well; the people who are amazed, are the same people that turn against him and try to kill him. It doesn’t help that Jesus says that his kind of healing, peace, and justice was going to include even the ones who cause pain to those gathered there, even the people who have occupied Jewish territory, and even those who have oppressed the people of Nazareth were to be part of this kingdom. Jesus’s vision of the kingdom is that radical—the very ones who cause pain, who revel in war, and who oppress others, they will not be swept away. Rather, they are the ones who will be set free from all that, too.
But should we be surprised that God’s work in Christ, and God’s work in the world more generally, would be more than we had imagined? This is a consistent teaching. Like in Psalm 19, the maker of the universe is not a cold and distant God, but the very same one who would care enough to guide our lives as individuals through the wisdom of his commandments. Jesus of Nazareth, son of Joseph, is the one who would bring healing, peace, and justice to us; but that this same Jesus would inaugurate a kingdom that would incorporate even the ones who hurt us, who are at war with us, and who have oppressed us; they would also partake in that same healing, the same peace, and the same justice offered to us.
And that this same Jesus, the one who picked up that scroll and read from it, the very same one depicted in the icon at St Catherine’s Monastery and copied all over the world, the Christ who holds the Scriptures in one hand, the Word made flesh, this one who picks up a scroll and reads it is the Word through whom all things are made, and the one who rules as Lord over the whole of creation. He holds his hand up not in condemnation, not in disapproval, neither in displeasure nor rejection: this Jesus, this Son of God, holds his hand up to us in blessing.
Preston DS Parsons
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.
As our parish musician, he provides both support and leadership so that a variety of parish programs can find musical expression and attract participation. When our handbell choir is in season, he is one of our ringers. At parish dinners, he provides popular piano music for the guests to dine by. For both worship services and concerts, he will rehearse and accompany vocal and instrumental soloists from our congregation on piano, organ, or even accordion.
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.