So when was the last time you read through the book of Nehemiah? Been a while? I’m guessing that, unless you’re really a Biblical scholar, this is one piece of literature with which you’re unfamiliar. And in case you are unfamiliar, let me set up the reading we have for Epiphany 3 in the RCL (Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10[i]).
Although it sounds like it should be a book of prophecy, Nehemiah is actually the last of the history books in the Hebrew Scriptures. The story we read takes place after the Israelites have been freed from captivity in Babylon. They’ve come back to their native land after about 70 years in exile and have rebuilt the walls of their capital Jerusalem. On balance, it’s a pretty good time for these folks and things look to be going just about as well as they can under the circumstances. The season has come to renew an ancient ritual, the Reading of the Law. All the people gather from their homes in the surrounding area to the new, rebuilt Jerusalem to hear the priest and scribe Ezra read from Moses’ Greatest Hits. It seems, however, that not everyone understands the Law, so there are Levites (members of the priestly tribe) who explain it for them.
(I’m wondering if, after 70 years in a foreign land, most of these folks grew up speaking Babylonian and didn’t understand Hebrew. You think? Maybe that’s why they needed interpreters.)
The weird thing in this story is that, when Ezra starts to read from the Law, everybody starts bawling their eyes out. Why? I have few clever guesses. It could be simple nostalgia. That is, I’ll bet some of these folks never thought they’d ever be back home (or back in their ancestral home since only those who were captured as little kids would even remember the old Israel), and they were so overjoyed to be participating in this Jewish holiday that they just lost their stuff and started to weep. That’s one theory.
Another thought is that hearing the words of the Law made them feel really guilty, and they started to understand why God had permitted them to lose the war with Babylon, why they had to live as captives in a foreign land, and why their beloved city was turned into a pile of rocks. All their regret and grief and shame came spilling out once they heard the priest tell them what they were supposed to have done.
But there’s also another interpretation which says the people cried when they heard the law because the way it was interpreted was just too darn hard to accept. Some Bible scholars point out that when Ezra starts talking Law, folks start to get their shorts bunched up. Back in the book of Ezra he chews the returned exiles out for marrying non-Jewish spouses and declares that God is excessively peeved with them for bringing foreign influences into their homes. Ezra declares that every mixed marriage be dissolved,[ii] a command which was as welcome as a dead mouse in your box of Cap’n Crunch. It’s possible that the Law isn’t what makes folks break down and weep. It’s the hard-assed way some choose to interpret it. After all, would you want some government or religious authority telling you whom you can or can’t marry?
So what does this have to do with Jesus in Nazareth five centuries later? In our appointed gospel lesson (Luke 4:14-21) we find Jesus doing what Ezra was doing in our first lesson—reading the scriptures to the people. Unlike Ezra, however, Jesus’ reading sounds a lot more upbeat. What can be better than the poor (who weren’t just those who were cash-strapped but included outcasts, lepers, foreigners, etc) would get some good news, the captives (not just prisoners but those bound by labor contracts like indentured servants) would be let go or could quit their jobs, the blind would see, the oppressed (anyone put in a cruel or unjust position by someone more powerful) would go free, and the Jubilee Year would be proclaimed?
That last part was a reference to the Law of Moses spelled out in Leviticus 25:23-38[iii]. This was a law which required that, on every fiftieth year, there would be a massive debt forgiveness, land would be restored to original owners, slaves would be released, and the poor would have their needs met. The whole economy would hit the reset button. This sounds like a pretty darn good law to me, and, if it brings anybody to tears, those tears would be tears of joy and relief. For Jesus the Law means respect for the lowly, freedom from debt and economic bondage, free healthcare, and equality and sustainable livelihood for all. What’s to cry about?
I guess there are two ways we can look at the Law. The first is to see it as restrictive and controlling and constantly reminding us that we’re sinners and are unworthy of the goodness of the God who has to give us these rules to keep our sinful little selves in line. The second way to see the law as God’s gift which reminds us to live in perpetual conscientious awareness of one another.
Jesus reminds us he didn’t come to abolish the Law. He came to fulfill it. How we choose to observe it will be the difference between tears of joy or anguish.
God’s peace, my friend.
[i] If
you’re wondering why we’re playing hopscotch through this passage, the editors
of the RCL, in their mercy and kindness, have eliminated the unnecessary lists
of Hebrew names which no lector could even begin to pronounce. The cuts don’t affect
the meaning of the passage.
[ii]
See Ezra 10:6-15
[iii]
You may want to look this up!
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