Third Sunday after the Epiphany [Proper 3], rcl yr c, 2025
NEHEMIAH 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10; PSALM 19; 1 CORINTHIANS 12:12-31A; LUKE 4:14-21
Their sound has gone out into all lands,
and their message to the ends of the world
It’s not very often, it’s really quite unusual, for a sermon to make international news—let alone a sermon from an Episcopal bishop. Anglicans and Episcopalians, well, we’re not really known for our preaching.
But we do live in increasingly strange times. And this past week, the sermon preached by Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde at Trump’s inauguration caught the interest and attention not just of Americans, but also of many others in the English-speaking world. It caught fire in many of our social media feeds. And it became a subject of interest on the news networks.
The sermon itself is worth a listen, and I find myself in agreement with much of its sentiment—she makes a case for compassion, and the love of neighbour, certainly two things that could bear hearing in this increasingly bitter and acrimonious age.
I imagine that this sermon will come up in a good number of pulpits today, and I imagine a lot of preachers sympathetic to Bishop Budde will turn to the gospel reading in particular. In our passage from Luke, Jesus is at synagogue, and reads from the scroll of Isaiah, saying: “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 Jesus makes sure that those who are there, and Luke makes sure that we hear, too, that this mission of God to bring good news to the poor, release to captives, sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed is deeply entwined with Jesus’s own call to take this divine mantle of compassion and justice upon himself. We are most certainly intended to hear this as part of following this Jesus—that we too would follow Jesus in this sort of work—the work of justice.
What’s more interesting to me, though, is that this is the week we also get a reading from Nehemiah. I’m quite sure we are intended to see, in this pairing of Nehemiah with this Gospel, passages about the public reading of Scripture and its effect on those who hear this reading of Scripture. In Nehemiah the people were so overwhelmed at hearing scripture that they wept; and those who hear Jesus, too, first speaking well of him, but then driving him out of town only to retreat from him in a sort of awe.
In part, this gives voice to our own reactions to scripture give meaning to us, so that we might see the power God in the reading of Scripture, but also of the ways we can reject Jesus, the Word that speaks through the word. In the reading, the hearing, and even in the interpretation of scripture, we are offered a transformative encounter not just with the words of the Bible, but with God, to hear the divine call to follow Jesus where he is heading, and to spend time with the ones Jesus would spend time with, the ones Jesus has come to seek out and to restore to the full stature of dignity and glory.
There’s more, though, to Ezra and Nehemiah than this story of encounter with God in the reading of scripture. And I imagine there will be some preaching from Ezra and Nehemiah from pulpits less sympathetic to Bishop Budde and her call to compassion.
Ezra and Nehemiah describe a time when Israel has finally been restored to Jerusalem: about 70 years or so after the fall of Jerusalem, the destruction of the first temple, and Israel’s exile to foreign cities like Babylon. Ezra and Nehemiah tell the story of the end of that exile, when Israel has been allowed to go home to Jerusalem again, having the opportunity to rebuild the temple and the city walls.
So imagine an atmosphere something like what Jesus reads from Isaiah. Israel was no longer prisoner to Babylon—Israel has been set free. Israel, once captive, has now been released. And Israel can begin to rebuild itself around the temple and temple worship, something that Israel had been waiting, and hoping for, for decades.
But what’s interesting is the way that Ezra and Nehemiah see the ways that God is able to work through pagan rulers. In Ezra, we read that the decrees of Persian kings are indistinguishable from the commands of God. It doesn’t matter that the Persian kings were pagan, and did not worship the same God as Israel—this was of little consequence. God had promised to restore Israel, Ezra-Nehemiah sees that God has kept his promise of restoration through the decrees of pagan kings.
And you can see just why they wept at the hearing of Scripture read aloud—Israel had been waiting for this for a generation; not everyone thought would happen; but now Israel can worship God how God intends to be worshipped. God has kept his promise to release the captives, and to let the prisoners go free.
You can see why this sort of narrative—of restoration to purity, to the ways of old—would have some purchase in political-religious communities that would like things to be restored to a certain moral and religious vision of the past. And you can see why the issue of the character of political leaders is of no concern. Cyrus was a pagan king, after all, but did God’s work in restoring Israel; and if that’s true, then maybe we don’t have to care about just how coarse and cruel, and unchristian even, political leaders might be if they are seen as figures that are ushering in the promise of a renewed Christian state of affairs?
Please don’t get me wrong—I am not trying here to say that these Biblical figures are in some way the original MAGA crowd. Nor am I saying that this is the right way for Christians to view our political masters. Not at all. We can and should call our leaders to compassion and the humane treatment of others. What I would like you to see, though, is how we got here, with some wildly diverse understandings of Christian political witness, and how Christian nationalism has come to be: it’s because there are certain voices in Scripture that some Christians are listening to in a very particular way.
The Bible, though, has a lot of voices within it. It’s helpful I think to imagine that these voices are in conversation, and sometimes even arguing with each another. Even within the book of Nehemiah we can see that the restoration of Israel is not quite complete, and even that the pagan kings are actually still up to no good. Instead of enjoying the fruits of their labour, we hear that the hard-earned wealth of the people still “goes to the kings … [these kings] have power also over [our] bodies and over [our] livestock at their pleasure, and [we] are in great distress.” Kings will be kings; they may do some good, but they are still fickle and greedy. And Israel is not yet completely free, they are not yet fully released from captivity.
And to fast-forward a few hundred years to Jesus in the synagogue saying that the promise of good news to the poor, release to captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed is not yet fulfilled—except now, in him, and not in the courts of the kings, Syrian, Assyrian, Roman or otherwise.
And for Jesus, this promise isn’t one made to some at the expense of others; instead, Jesus finds himself not echoing the voices of Ezra and Nehemiah, concerned as they were with purity and religious-political restoration; Jesus quotes rather from Isaiah, giving voice to a hope for all the nations of the world: that in him it won’t just be some that are to receive mercy and be included into God’s hope, but rather that God, in Christ, is for all those under the yoke: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon [him], because he has anointed [him] to bring good news to the poor. God has sent [him] 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.”
The Revd Canon Preston DS Parsons, PhD
Rector, St John the Evangelist, Kitchener
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.