A woman entered a synagogue one Sabbath morning. She was nameless. However, everyone there knew who she was—she was the
woman that was “bent-over.” Over the years, she had resigned
herself to the stares, and to being treated as a second-class citizen. For eighteen
years, she had suffered from an illness that has bent her back almost double.
For
eighteen years, she had been accustomed to looking down or just slightly ahead of herself—but never upward without straining
her neck.
For
eighteen years, her world had been one of turning from side to side to see what others could see with a casual glance.
For
eighteen years, she has had trouble keeping liquids from spilling out of her mouth as she attempted to drink, and then swallowing
solid foods was an effort.
For
eighteen years, one-half of her life expectancy, her illness had forced her to live “bent over.”
A “bent-over” woman entered a synagogue one Sabbath morning. She was expecting to hear the scriptures read, the psalms sung, and
the prayers prayed. That is all that she expected to happen that morning.
A “bent-over” woman entered a synagogue one Sabbath morning. That morning, when their paths intersected, Jesus was doing what
visiting rabbis did in that day—he was teaching in the synagogue.
A “bent-over” woman entered a synagogue one Sabbath morning. She did not ask Jesus
for anything. She simply took her seat.
She was hoping that she could escape the stares from her fellow worshippers. (Being
“bent-over,” the Law considered her “unclean,” and people looked down on her.) However, that morning, all that would change.
Jesus
saw her sitting there, hunched over on one of the benches. He called over to
her, “Woman, you have been loosed from
your infirmity.” She heard him, but she did not feel any
different. Jesus then went over to her; he reached out to her, and touched
her. (In touching her, the rules then regarded Jesus as “unclean.” Yet, Jesus did it anyway!) Jesus laid his hands upon her, and Jesus’ divine power surged throughout her body.
Immediately
she was straight! She could stand tall. She
could see the world as most other people saw the world. No longer was she the
“bent-over” woman. Now she was simply a woman that Jesus had healed.
Restored to the fullness of God’s vision for her, this woman was able to
stand straight, to look up to the sky, and to praise God for his blessings upon her.
Those
about her could not believe their eyes and ears. The woman was standing “straight-up”
in the middle of the synagogue, shouting praises to God. Some in the congregation
sat in stunned silence, while still others were raising their hands and shouting praises to God.
The
synagogue leader did not know what to do with all the commotion going on. In
his eyes, Jesus had violated the Sabbath rules. He did not want to confront
Rabbi Jesus, so he turned to the congregation, and began publicly scolding the woman, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured,
and not on the Sabbath day.”
I
have to ask, why had the synagogue leader behaved in such a callous seeming manner? He was good man. He was highly respected
for his personal behavior. The people had selected him to hold an honored office
in the synagogue. He had a wide range of responsibilities, including choosing
those who would participate in leading worship each Sabbath, as well as overseeing the upkeep of the building and grounds.
It was his job to see that things went “decently and in order” at
the synagogue. He therefore knew the Sabbath rules. He also knew that Jesus had violated those rules.
These
Sabbath rules he was concerned about, from where had they come? To understand that question, we have to go to the Bible. In Deuteronomy 5, we read that
God gave Moses the 10 Commandments on Mount Horeb/ Mount Sinai. One of those commandments said that the
Hebrew people were to observe the Sabbath day, not to work, and to keep it “holy.” Yet,
the people asked, “Just how does one keep the Sabbath ‘holy?”
In response to that question, the Pharisees had
developed a set of “black and white” rules. One of the rules specified
how far one could walk on the Sabbath. According to that rule, one could walk
up to that specified distance. However, for one to walk further, that would constitute
work.
Of
course, the Pharisee’s knew that there had to be exceptions. Therefore,
they set up a general rule, which specified that one could do work of an immediate urgency, such as to save a life. However, any work that was not of an immediate urgency, one should postpone until the
Sabbath was over. Since the Jewish day began at sunset, normally that could mean
only a few hours to wait.
Certainly
the bent-woman’s illness was not life threatening. She had lived with it
for eighteen years. The synagogue leader reasoned that Jesus should have waited
until after sunset to heal her. Not wanting to confront Jesus, the synagogue
leader therefore began to scold the woman, saying, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the Sabbath
day.”
Jesus
got angry! He got angry at the synagogue leader for picking on the woman, and he got angry at his cheering section. He knew that they needed to be straightened out in their lives. He therefore shouted at the Synagogue Leader and the other elders, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the Sabbath loosen his ox or his donkey
from the manger, and lead it away to give it water?” Of course,
Jesus was referring to the Pharisee’s rule that one could untie one’s ox or donkey on the Sabbath in order to
allow them to drink some water. Jesus then reasoned that, if animals are allowed
to be “loosened” of their bonds to drink some water—even more so, should not this “daughter of Abraham” be “loosened” from her
bondage of 18 years!
Note
that Jesus referred to this woman as a “daughter
of Abraham.” In Dr. Luke’s gospel only one other person
receives such a title—that being Zacchaeus. You remember Zacchaeus, “the wee little man that climbed up
into the tree” as the children’s song goes. Jesus later in his
journey would meet Zacchaeus, eat with him, and declare him “a son of Abraham.” And likewise Jesus referred to
this woman as “a daughter of Abraham.”
But
why did Jesus refer to this women as “a
daughter of Abraham?” In
the scriptures, Abraham represented God’s original covenant of faithfulness with his people. Therefore, for Jesus to
publicly declare that this woman was “a
daughter of Abraham,” was for him to declare that she always had been, and forever would be one of God’s
special people. As God’s own, she therefore deserved for people to treat
her with honor and dignity, whether she suffered from her infirmity or not. Jesus
in this story restored her physically. More importantly, he restored her as a respected member of that community.
Let
me be clear here: Jesus did not disregard the importance of the Sabbath by his
healing of the woman. Rather, he reinterpreted it according to God’s covenant
with Abraham. According to Jesus’ interpretation of the law, God’s chief attribute is that of “mercy.” He therefore had lifted up “mercy,” as
the litmus test for human interaction—the lens through which all faith is to be interpreted.
In
her book, Strength for the Journey, Diana
Butler Bass tells about one congregation that she was a member of while still in seminary.
That congregation was split into several subgroups—some were generational in nature—while others centered
on what they believed, in opposition to what others did not believe. Whatever
camp they were in, being correct was very important to them. Diana and her husband
were in one of those camps, and they wanted matters of faith and practice to be “black and white.” Diana and her husband knew in their hearts that those that disagreed with them were wrong, and therefore
they were inferior Christians.
A
new Episcopal Bishop had been elected, and one of his responsibilities was to visit and get to know all the congregations
in his diocese. Of course, some people were ready to line up to challenge him,
because he did not agree with them on some matter. They wanted to be able to
say, “See! We told you he does not believe the right things!”
When
the meeting began, the Bishop told them a little about the work of the diocese, and then he asked if there were any questions.
Diana’s husband raised his hand and said, “Bishop Johnson, it says in the Book of Timothy that the bishop is to guard the gospel. Sir, listening to you, I cannot discern what you are guarding. Can
you tell us, please, exactly what you think the gospel is?”
There
was silence, nobody moved. The bishop looked at the questioner and then about the room. Then, “he unfolded his arms—which he had held across his chest—and stretched them out so widely that he
almost looked like Jesus hanging on the cross. ‘God’ the bishop said
deliberately. ‘God loves everybody.”
“Well, yes,” Diana’s husband started to protest, “but...”
“God loves everybody…that’s it,” the bishop replied.
“But...”
Diana’s husband could barely get the words out of his mouth before the bishop
came back, “God loves everybody. That
is the gospel!”
Some
there that day were not pleased with the bishop’s answer. They thought
it was wishy-washy. However, Diana was put to shame. She later wrote, “Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, I knew
that (the bishop) was right, and I was wrong. God’s only boundary is love...and
there, on that day in (the church) parish hall, I began to understand that orderliness is not faith, and certainly no substitute
for grace.”
