HOLY & BELOVED—THE HIGH ROAD
Jeremiah 1:4-10; Luke 4:21-30; 1 Corinthians 13:1-13
4th Sunday after Epiphany, February 2, 2025
Pastor Ritva H Williams
Six centuries before the birth of Jesus, a boy named Jeremiah had a deeply spiritual experience in which he heard God say, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you. I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” In this private conversation God offers Jeremiah the opportunity to minister to God’s people in the aftermath of war and disaster.
As Kathryn M Schifferdecker, Chair of Old Testament at Luther Seminary explains:
God calls Jeremiah to a life … of purpose and meaning … [into] something bigger than himself, [into] something bigger than his own desires; it [is] about God’s work, and [how] God claimed him even before he was born … While we are not Jeremiah, the prophet’s call story can serve to illuminate our own vocations, our own calls to discipleship.
(August 25, 2019 at workingpreacher.org)
Jeremiah 1:5 is good news for every human being, affirming that we enter the world already made holy. and blessed with the capacity to make a positive difference in the world. Jeremiah confirms what we learn in the very first chapter of the Bible where God creates not one human or one kind of human but all of humankind in God’s own divine image.
For the author of Genesis 3000 years ago, that meant males and females. Today the sciences of human biology and medicine reveal that gender identity includes a spectrum of 72 possibilities. None of us is 100% male or 100% female. All of us are a dynamic combination of both. Similarly humans display an incredible range of skin tones — one chart has 180 variations — all emerging from the interplay of human genetics, biology, geographic migration, and more. God’s image is reflected in all persons of all gender identities and skin colors, sizes and shapes, physical and intellectual abilities. Bearing that in mind, let us turn now to our gospel reading.
We meet Jesus this morning still in the synagogue at Nazareth. He has just finished proclaiming, “God’s Spirit has anointed me to bring good news to the poor, release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and freedom for the oppressed” (Luke 4:18). Everyone is impressed, until Jesus tells his audience he will not do the things he did in Capernaum (4:31ff). God’s mission is not and has never been limited to only one nation, tribe, or clan. In the time of Elijah when many widows were suffering because of severe famine, God sent the prophet only to a widow of Zarephath in Sidon. In the time of Elisha, there were many lepers in Israel, but only Naaman the Syrian was healed. The people of Sidon and Syria were foreigners — Gentiles and heathens — rivals and enemies of Israel, yet God cared for them with mercy and compassion. Outraged, the synagogue crowd hauls Jesus out of town to hurl him off a cliff. This gospel reading shows us what happens when God’s truth confronts the biases and prejudices of people who feel privileged and entitled because of their ethnicity and religion.
Pastor Steve Garnaas-Holmes describes Jesus’ response in his poem, “In Their Midst” (unfoldinglight.org)
He didn't argue with them, didn't fight or outsmart them, made no clever ninja moves.
In the arms of the breeze at the cliff edge, light falling like rain,
before they did something stupid he gave himself to them fully, forgiving them already,
which raised a question that doused their shouting, that spoke a silence
that cut through their first-stone piety, that passed through to their midst, their center,
and finally they were not so sure of themselves, which was not so much his salvation as theirs.
How do we faithfully follow Jesus in a world where we are likely to be ridiculed, rejected, and even confronted by angry violent people? In our baptism covenant we promise to serve all people as Jesus did, and to work for justice and peace in all the earth. But how do we do that in world where people are divided by disagreements.
The answer is provided in our reading from 1 Corinthians, written by the apostle Paul for a church full of scrappy, competitive people molded by Greco-Roman values. Paul introduces a new vision of the church as the body of Christ — one body with many members and blessed with a diversity of gifts, services and activities to be used for the common good. One body in which the inherent dignity of every person is acknowledged and celebrated. To achieve unity in diversity, Paul promises at the end of chapter 12 to show them a more excellent way. The original Greek words he uses refer to a mountain pass, a path that goes up, over, and beyond the hard stuff. And so Paul introduces chapter 13 as the high road of love.
Although 1 Corinthians 13 is often read at weddings, Paul is not writing about romantic love. He is describing agape love — the pure, selfless, unconditional love of Christ for us — which the Holy Spirit pours into our hearts so we can love one another as Christ loves us. Without agape love, using even our best gifts and talents is just showing off and building up our own egos. Agape love orients us to desire and work for the common good — what is best for all persons in our schools, workplaces, neighborhoods, and communities.
For Paul agape love manifests itself, or not, in how people behave. There are things that agape love never does. As translated by Eugene Petersen in The Message:
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut,
Doesn’t have a swelled head,
Doesn’t force itself on others,
Isn’t always “me first,”
Doesn’t fly off the handle,
Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn’t revel when others grovel.
Instead, agape love shows up as the kind of patience that chooses not to retaliate or seek revenge even when the world says you should (Bailey, pp. 367-8). Agape love is kind, soothing and comforting, bringing healing to the wounded mind and spirit (Bailey, p. 368). Agape love rejoices when truth prevails, when wrongs are made right and reconciliation occurs. It bears and covers all things, like a roof that protects those who dwell under it (Bailey, p. 376). Agape love endures, remaining steadfast under pressure and in the face of life’s inevitable suffering. Agape love accepts all without judgment, and always hopes for good things for all people whether friend or foe, neighbor or stranger. Agape love — the love of Christ — is infinite and eternal — and nothing can separate us from it.
We live in a world where this love often seems scarce, where we’re sometimes, or even often, told we are not worthy of it. The good news is that you — all of you — are born holy, blessed and loved, that you live every day as a beloved child of God, and you will be gathered at life’s end into the loving arms of your maker.
In closing, receive this blessing by Jan Richardson “Beginning with Beloved”
Begin here:
Beloved.
Is there any other word needs saying,
any other blessing could compare with this name, this knowing?
Beloved.
Comes like a mercy to the ear that has never heard it.
Comes like a river to the body that has never seen such grace.
Beloved.
Comes holy to the heart aching to be new.
Comes healing to the soul wanting to begin again.
Beloved.
Keep saying it, and though it may seem strange at first,
watch how it becomes part of you, how it becomes you,
as if you never could have known yourself anything else,
as if you could ever have been other than this:
Beloved.
