When Wilt Thou Save the People? A Lectionary Reflection
Jeremiah 31:7-9
Hebrews 7:23-28
Mark 10:46-52
When Wilt Thou Save the
People?
The title of my reflection comes from Godspell, because it
expresses the longings present in this week’s readings. There is a longing, a desire, to see God’s
reign fully realized, the day of salvation, that permeates our hopes and
dreams. We look forward to that day when
lion and lamb lay down beside each other, when the peace of God is truly
embodied. Such is the message embedded in the opening
stanza of “God Save the People”
When wilt thou save the people?
Oh God of mercy when?
The people, Lord, the people
Not thrones and crowns,
But men
Flowers of thy heart
O God are they
Let them not pass like weeds away
Their heritage, a sunless day
God save the people
Oh God of mercy when?
The people, Lord, the people
Not thrones and crowns,
But men
Flowers of thy heart
O God are they
Let them not pass like weeds away
Their heritage, a sunless day
God save the people
Not the
powers and principalities, but the people, men and women, who are in the words
of the song, “flowers of thy heart.” Don’t
let them pass away like weeds. Instead,
save the people.
The texts of the day speak of an
ingathering of the people, of a high priest who can bring us into perfection,
and a Lord who brings healing to bodies and spirits. They express the hope of God’s realm, the
hope of salvation.
Jeremiah knows a lot about the
suffering of a people. He understands a
nation’s sense of brokenness. He’d
watched as Judah fell and fell again, its people carried off into exile and its
Temple destroyed. He had tried to call
on his people to do what is right. He
opposed the false prophets who misled the people, making promises they couldn’t
keep. As Jeremiah looked around, there
was little to find joy in. And if one
knows Jeremiah, one knows that he often wept for the nation and for his
people. The book of Jeremiah is full of
laments. But here, Jeremiah calls out to
the people and offers them an alternate vision.
Jeremiah knew that if the people put their trust in God and not this
alliance or that alliance, that there would be a positive future for them. In Jeremiah 29, we have a letter from
Jeremiah to the exiles in Babylon, and Jeremiah relays God’s message: “For sure I know the plans I have for you,
says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future
with hope. Then when you call upon me
and come and pray to me, I will hear you . . . I will let you find me, says the
Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and
all the places where I have driven you, says the Lord, . . .” (Jer. 29:11-14 NRSV).
It’s that theme of hope, of God’s promise fulfilled, that
emerges here in Jeremiah 31. It’s this
promise that allows Jeremiah to call on the people to “sing joyfully” and to
“raise your voices with praise and call out:
The Lord has saved his people, the remaining few in Israel!” (vs.
7). God will remain true to God’s
promises, even when we fail to respond accordingly.
Jeremiah, like the exilic prophecies in Isaiah, envisions
God’s gathering up the people from wherever they had been scattered, and would
restore them to the land. They will come
from the ends of the earth, Jeremiah proclaims.
And who will be gathered? Among
those in the crowd will be the “blind and the disabled, expectant mother and
those in labor.” Yes, God will gather in
those whom society deems weak or needy.
And God will make their paths smooth and quiet. The journey home won’t be difficult or
painful. It will be a journey full of
joy, and all the people will share in it.
Yes, on that day God will be Israel’s parent, and they will be God’s
oldest child – and thus the heir of God.
What a beautiful image, especially in context. In Jeremiah, there is much lament and words
of judgment are often present, but there remains this hope – a hope of
restoration. But as we hear earlier in
Jeremiah – this doesn’t happen overnight.
In Jeremiah 29, the Lord tells the people living in exile to settle in,
build their homes, and plant their gardens – until the day of ingathering the
people, the day of salvation! There is
hope, but there is also a call for patience.
Everything in its time.
The reading from Hebrews seems to
take us in a different direction, but it too seeks to envision the day of
salvation. It does so in the context of
this continuing discussion of Christ’s holy priesthood. There is a contrast here between the perfect
and the imperfect, the priest who not only offers up sacrifices for the sins of
others, but must also offer them for himself.
Such priests are impermanent and unable to fulfill their calling without
attending to their own sense of inadequacy. Such is not the case with Christ, who lives eternally
so as to speak with God on our behalf. This
is the one who goes before us, bringing us into wholeness, who makes peace for
us and in us. This priest is “holy,
innocent, incorrupt, separate from sinners, raised high above the heavens”
(7:26). And yet, this is the same Christ
who has encountered temptation as we have – though without sin. The offering made by this priest doesn‘t
require repetition. Just once is enough,
for offers himself. Now, we can read
this in light of a rather traditional substitutionary atonement understanding,
where God demands payment for sin, and
Jesus makes the payment with his blood.
But this needn’t be our interpretation.
Instead, it’s Jesus’ obedience to the call that overcomes sin and brings
perfection, a perfection that is shared with all who embrace this path. It is a path that leads to wholeness, such as
the one Jeremiah envisions.
Our Gospel reading from Mark is
brief, and the story familiar to many.
Yes, many of us grew up hearing the name Blind Bartimaeus, whom Jesus
heals of his blindness. It’s a story
that even gave birth to spirituals that embrace both the physical and the
metaphorical forms of healing.
In the reading, Bartimaeus sits alongside the road outside
Jericho. I expect that he sat there
every day, hoping to receive alms that enabled him to survive. But on that day, he heard something much more
hopeful. He heard that Jesus would be
passing his way. Bartimaeus must have
heard about this miracle-working teacher, because when Jesus came near, he
cried out: “Jesus, Son of David, show Me
Mercy!” Mark wants us to hear in the cry
of the blind man, the recognition of Jesus’ true identity. Bartimaeus understands – Jesus is the
Messiah, the hoped for deliverer. And he
seeks a blessing of this one come from God to save the people.
Bartimaeus calls out to Jesus, despite attempts to silence
him. How often do we stifle the cries of
those who need to encounter the Living Lord?
How often do we place decorum ahead of wholeness? The crowd tried to silence him, but
Bartimaeus wouldn’t be deterred. He only
cried out with greater volume. For he
understands, as others seemingly didn’t, that hope was present in their
midst. Bartimaeus’s persistence is
rewarded. Jesus hears his voice and
calls out to him, inviting him to come, even as God would call forth the people
from the nations, to come and be healed.
And as a result, of this healing, which in this case is physical,
Bartimaeus now becomes a disciple, a follower, who joins Jesus on the way of
salvation.
Our readings invite us to seek the one who brings wholeness,
even as Bartimaeus did. God will lead us
into the land of peace, and the one who leads us will be the perfect high
priest, who calls forth our commitment to the journey, even as Jesus did with Bartimaeus.
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