1/26/25 Sermon
Today’s scripture takes us to the very beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. What’s written in the bulletin gives us a snapshot of this moment, but I want to expand on it to give us a little more context. Jesus has just returned to Galilee, and people are already talking about the amazing things he’s been doing. Now, he’s back in his hometown of Nazareth, standing in the synagogue where he grew up.
He reads from the scroll of Isaiah—a passage about hope, freedom, and God’s promises—and then he does something shocking: he claims that this prophecy is being fulfilled through him, right then and there. At first, the people are impressed, but as Jesus challenges their expectations and pushes them to see God’s grace as bigger than they imagined, things take a very different turn. Let’s listen to this moment unfold and consider what it might mean for us today as we listen to the word of God found in Luke 4:17-30
He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me. He has sent me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the prisoners and recovery of sight to the blind, to liberate the oppressed, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” He rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the synagogue assistant, and sat down. Every eye in the synagogue was fixed on him. He began to explain to them, “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled just as you heard it.”
Everyone was raving about Jesus, so impressed were they by the gracious words flowing from his lips. They said, “This is Joseph’s son, isn’t it?” Then Jesus said to them, “Undoubtedly, you will quote this saying to me: ‘Doctor, heal yourself. Do here in your hometown what we’ve heard you did in Capernaum.’” He said, “I assure you that no prophet is welcome in the prophet’s hometown. And I can assure you that there were many widows in Israel during Elijah’s time, when it didn’t rain for three and a half years and there was a great food shortage in the land. Yet Elijah was sent to none of them but only to a widow in the city of Zarephath in the region of Sidon. There were also many persons with skin diseases in Israel during the time of the prophet Elisha, but none of them were cleansed. Instead, Naaman the Syrian was cleansed.”
When they heard this, everyone in the synagogue was filled with anger. They rose up and ran him out of town. They led him to the crest of the hill on which their town had been built so that they could throw him off the cliff. But he passed through the crowd and went on his way.
WORD OF LORD
Listen, there are a lot of things right now that have me worried. My transgender friends are terrified - absolutely terrified. There are people I love dearly who are in this country legally but are afraid we’re turning our backs on them or that they’ll be sent back to a place they no longer belong. I know clergy who are now afraid that preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ could cost them their jobs—or worse. I’m worried because of the lack of true meaningful discourse in our country. It feels like we’re hellbent on tearing ourselves apart, and I don’t really know the best way to address any of this, let alone offer you any solutions.
There is so much hatred and anger. People are quick to lash out, slow to listen, and self-focused to the point of ignoring how their actions affect others. When I try think of solutions, I’m struck by my own privilege and feel paralyzed about what to say or do. I even thought about preaching another sermon entirely—one that avoids addressing the world as it is. But that felt unfaithful.
I feel helpless. Part of me wants to give up. Nothing I can say or do will change anyone’s mind anyways. In fact, I run the risk of alienating people in this church that I love. And I worry a lot about crossing the line from preaching the truth of the Gospel into giving you Quincy’s hard opinion on something. I want to be faithful — faithful to God, faithful to scripture, and faithful to you. And so, I turn to scripture in the hopes of being faithful and I find words that both challenge me and give me hope:
“He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me. He has sent me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the prisoners and recovery of sight to the blind, to liberate the oppressed, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” He rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the synagogue assistant, and sat down. Every eye in the synagogue was fixed on him. He began to explain to them, “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled just as you heard it.” (Luke 4:17-21)
What strikes me in this passage is one word: today. Not yesterday. Not tomorrow. Not sometime down the road. Today. Jesus declares that the promises of God are fulfilled now -right now. In our midst. Today. And yet, what happens when he makes this proclamation? The people run him out of town and try to throw him off a cliff.
Why? Because his message is unsettling. He’s looking them in the eyes and saying: “YOU are the poor. YOU are the oppressed. YOU are the blind. And today, God’s work begins with you.” He illustrates this by bringing up the stories of the widow and Elijah and the lepers and Elisha —outsiders who received God’s blessings. It’s as if he’s saying, “Look, you’re just as in need of grace as they were. And now, it’s your turn to extend that same grace beyond your comfortable boundaries.” That kind of truth is hard to hear. It forces us to confront the idea that we might be part of the problem or that the solutions might require us to leave our comfort zones.
And yet, Jesus doesn’t hold back. He knows his words will anger them. He knows they’ll reject him. But he speaks the truth anyway. He calls them to change, to see themselves as both recipients and participants in God’s mission of liberation. And yet, their anger boils over, and they drive him out of the synagogue. Then they take it a step further—pushing him to the edge of a cliff, ready to throw him off and silence him for good. But Jesus doesn’t back down. He stands firm, walks straight through the crowd, and keeps going. Their rejection of him only shows me and hopefully you, how courageous and uncompromising his call to action really is.
This makes me think about church—both the universal church and our own community. What does it mean to be the church? Jesus’ declaration in Luke gives us a clear job description: to bring good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives, offer sight to the blind, and set the oppressed free. These aren’t abstract ideas; they are concrete actions. And they’re not meant for “someday” but they’re meant for today.
And it means that Church isn’t a building or a one-hour Sunday activity. Church is something we become and something we do. It happens when we sit with someone in grief, help a stranger in need, or share a meal with friends and neighbors. Church happens when we embody the living, breathing, acting body of Christ.
This is a challenging call because it requires us to look beyond our individual wants to meet the needs of others. Sometimes, those needs belong to people we don’t know, or we don’t like, or we don’t understand. But that’s exactly what Jesus did. He crossed boundaries, ate with sinners, touched the untouchable, and loved the unlovable. And If we’re to be his body in the world, we must do the same. If we’re to be his body in the world, we must do the same.
Paul captures this beautifully in his letter to the Corinthians, describing the church as a body with many parts, each working together for the common good. Relationships are at the heart of this vision. Our relationships with one another reflect our relationship with God. Jesus consistently taught this: love of God and love of neighbor are inseparable. When someone asked Jesus about faith in God, his answers almost always pointed back to relationships—with friends, with family, with strangers, and even with enemies.
This emphasis on relationships is countercultural. We live in a world that prizes individualism, where compromise is seen as weakness and absolutes dominate our discourse. But relationships require give and take. Healthy relationships—whether in marriages, friendships, or communities—are marked by reciprocity, humility, and care for the other.
Imagine a marriage where one person always gets their way. That would be miserable. - Please stop nudging your spouse. - Similarly, a church that prioritizes the wants of a few over the needs of the many isn’t living out its calling. The church is meant to model healthy relationships, teaching us how to live in community and care for one another. And that care and consideration, that putting down the wants of a few for the needs of many isn’t contained to just within our church, but its supposed to spill out into our greater world.
This is why church matters. It calls us into relationships—with God, with each other, and with the world. These relationships challenge us to grow, to serve, and to love in ways that reflect Christ’s own love. They remind us that we aren’t alone and that our lives are interconnected.
But let’s be honest: It’s hard work. It’s much easier to “go to church” than to be the church. It’s easier to stay within our comfort zones than to engage with the messy realities of the world. It’s easier to focus on ourselves than to meet the needs of others. But Jesus doesn’t call us to what is easy. He calls us to what is faithful.
So how do we do this? How do we live as the church?
We start by looking up. We pay attention to what’s happening around us. Who are the poor, the captive, the blind, and the oppressed in our community? What would it look like to bring them good news, to offer them freedom and healing?
Next, we ask ourselves hard questions. Are we embodying the values of Christ in our actions, our decisions, and our relationships? Are we willing to put aside our own preferences to meet the needs of others?
Finally, we take action. We don’t have to change the whole world in one day, but we can make a difference in our corner of it. Maybe it’s volunteering with a local organization to address food insecurity or homelessness. Maybe we reach out to our migrant, immigrant, and refugee communities to see how we can be a part of the solution. Maybe we offer our trans and queer kids a safe place and safe person to be with. And maybes it’s something as simple as sending a note of encouragement to someone who’s struggling, offering a ride to a neighbor in need, or mentoring a young person who needs guidance. Advocacy can also play a role—signing petitions, contacting leaders, or using our voices to speak up for those who can’t. Every small act of kindness and justice ripples outward, contributing to the greater good and embodying the love of Christ in practical ways.
The good news is that we don’t do this work alone. The Spirit of the Lord is upon us, empowering us to be the hands and feet of Christ. And when we come together as the body of Christ, we can accomplish far more than we ever could on our own.
This calling to embody the church requires a deep trust in God’s presence and guidance. It’s not about having all the answers or fixing every problem, but about being faithful in the moment. It’s about showing up with compassion, humility, and a willingness to serve. It’s about seeing Christ in the face of those who are struggling and allowing them to see Christ in us.
Listen, there are still so many things that have me worried. But there’s also hope—because with God, there is always hope. Today, God’s promise is fulfilled. Today, we are called to be the body of Christ. Today, we are called to embody the church, to be the hands and feet of Christ in this world. May we be faithful in answering that call.
And so As we proclaim our hope and belief together, please stand if you are able and join me in affirming our faith, using the words printed in your bulletin this morning.
