Breaking the rules

This sermon was preached this morning at St Michael's Flixton. The readings were Isaiah 58:9b-14, Psalm 103:1-8, Hebrews 12:18-29 & Luke 13:10-17.

Why do we come to church? Is it something you ever think about? Do we come out of a sense of duty- something we feel we should or ought to do? Or do we come out of ritual or habit- it’s what we’ve always done? Do we come for community- to be part of something bigger, to get a sense of belonging? Or do we come because we feel we’ll experience something of God in this place?
Whatever your own reasons are, they probably contain a little bit of each of these, and of course it’s scriptural.
In Hebrews chapter 10 we hear of the importance of meeting together and encouraging each other; Matthew 18 contains Jesus famous words that when 2 or 3 are gathered in his name, there he is; In Acts 2 the apostles gather for prayer, teaching and breaking bread.
It was also scriptural for the Jewish people that Jesus is teaching in front of in today’s gospel to attend structured worship. There were a lot of rules around the Sabbath laid down in Levitical law. We know that Levitical law was and is extensive and contains instruction on every area of life.
Yet in today’s gospel we see Jesus, the same Jesus who said he hadn’t come to abolish the Law, break one of the Sabbath rules. Healing was classed as work, which may seem odd to us. The definitions in Jewish teaching about what is and isn’t work have been pondered and debated by scholars and rabbis for thousands of years. I’ve nursed orthodox Jewish patients who couldn’t press their nurse call button on the Sabbath because using something electrical was forbidden under their understanding of the Law.
The minutiae of these definitions may be baffling- even to Anglicans with our rules and rituals- but there are reasons for it. Keeping the Sabbath, to this people, was all about putting a special time aside to remember and be with God. Even though the extent of the Law reached every part of life, the Sabbath was the time when all other things were put aside and it was about God and only God.
Following the law to the letter stemmed from the exile- The Hebrews believed they were sent into exile as a punishment for not following the rules and so there was a fear of “not getting it right” and being punished again.
This might help frame just how controversial it was for Jesus to break the rules. And it wasn’t the first time. At this point Jesus has already allowed his disciples to pick grain on the Sabbath, because they’re hungry, and has healed a man’s withered hand, also in a synagogue on the Sabbath. In the next chapter he does it again, healing a man with dropsy.
This repeated rule breaking tells us one thing, whatever point Jesus is making here it’s an important one, and it’s not about healing. Those of you who’ve heard me speak about healing miracles before may remember my belief that whenever we see a healing miracle in the gospels it’s never about the healing, it’s always about something Jesus is trying to reveal to us about God.
In the narrative we see a synagogue leader so keen on rules he could very well be part of the CofE! He says:
"There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day."
He’s a proper jobsworth! But Jesus points out the hypocrisy of it, that there are other things, none of which reveal anything of God, which people do on the Sabbath for mere practical reasons- who would deny their animal water because of the Sabbath rules? None of them. Yet Jesus’ revelation of the power of God in healing the women is not condoned.
This is where we find something marvellous to celebrate in our Anglican tradition. It can be a bit fuzzy to define what we, the Anglican communion are. Those who’ve thought about these things have defined it as a triangle, with each side of the triangle having an equal share in what defines us. Those three sides, and you probably will have heard this before, are Scripture, Tradition and Reason.
This trinity, like the eternal trinity, are held in tension together, forever dancing and circling each other, intertwining to help us figure out our beliefs and our theology.
In this story of Jesus healing a woman in the synagogue we have tradition and scripture on one side, telling us that he’s broken the rules, done the wrong thing, but then reason comes in and puts a twist on whole situation.
The reasonable question to ask is what does each situation reveal of God? On one hand we have the rules, set in scripture and carried through tradition, and on the other we have a women healed in a place where people have gathered to learn about God.
The attempted enforcement of the rules here makes God seem small, confined and constricted. The healing reveals a God of power, a God who can’t be confined or defined by us and our institutions. God isn’t defined by the church, we should be defined by God.
It’s built into the DNA of the church of England to give equal weighting to reason, tradition and scripture even when these things are at odds with each. 30 years ago I wouldn’t have been stood here, with this collar on, preaching to you. Tradition and Scripture were quite clear: women lived under the authority of men, and as such were not authorised to be ordained. It wasn’t our place.
Yet reason leads us to re-examine scripture for the time and place we find ourselves. The bible isn’t a holy rule book. It’s the story of humanity’s relationship with God, and revelation of God through Jesus Christ. This revelation isn’t closed off or finished, it’s ongoing, through re-examining scripture in our own context. Through this process has been born liberation theology, black theology, feminist theology, queer theology.
Ongoing revelation means the voiceless have found their voices, and found their place in God’s kingdom.
By accepting that what’s contained in scripture is an ongoing conversation between the text and our context we accept that it’s not about trying to define or restrict God with a set of rules but seeing where he’s at work in the world. This has been brought to the fore in recent years as we’ve seen scripture and tradition under debate in regards to sexuality, which made headlines again recently as a priest from our diocese resigned his position and married his male partner.
Tradition says one thing, reason another, and scripture is interpreted and re-interpreted by those on both sides of the debate. Are we, in these debates, trying to contain God? Make him small, make him conform to our image of him? Or are we looking beyond our beliefs and expectations? Opening our eyes to where God is revealed right before us?
At the end of today’s gospel reading the people who witness Jesus’ miracle aren’t siding with the religious leader, they’re rejoicing at the miracle they’ve witnessed. My challenge to us is to do the same- look for where God is moving in the world and celebrate it!
The writer of Hebrews tells us we’re receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken. Nothing that humankind can say or do can shake God or God’s kingdom- he’s way bigger than that. Rules, Ritual and even the church can’t define God, or know God’s mind or will. He’s not made in our image, we’re made in his, and he is indeed a consuming fire.
A fire of power, a fire of joy and a fire of love.
To go back to my opening question, I come to church to try and catch a bit of that fire, having that Sabbath focus of time just for God. If we can each leave this place with a bit of that fire within us, it lights us up in the world.
When we re-examine scripture we see that the Sabbath isn’t about the rules or traditions, it’s about seeing where God is and shifting our focus to that place, shifting our focus away from all distractions and for a short time delighting in God, celebrating God, worshipping God, and most importantly, expecting to encounter God.