Making the Crooked Straight
Luke 13:10-17
Rev.
Mary T. Meadows
August 26. 2007
Imagine, if you will, that you are bent over much as the
woman was in our scripture reading this morning. In fact, try it right now. Everyone who is able stand up, stretch, and
now bend over. It’s not too bad at
first, is it? After all, we’ve all bent
over at various times to pick up something off the floor or talk to a small
child. But now, stay bent over and try
to look at me. It’s rather awkward,
isn’t it? You have to use muscles in
your neck that you aren’t used to using.
And it may be difficult to see over the person in front of you. Now try to move around. Move down your pew, into the aisles. Try to find a seat somewhere else in the
room. It gets tiring trying to hold your
head up – you may find that you simply must let yourself look downward
instead. Now you only have the feet and
legs of others to guide you as you try to move around. Try to return to your own seat. Is it hard to find your way? Do you find yourself running into other people? Is your back tired yet? Are you ready to stand up straight? You may do so!
The bent over woman Luke tells us about, though, wasn’t
able to stand up when her back grew tired.
For eighteen years she had lived in a crippled body – bent over for a
reason we are not given and unable to stand up.
I imagine that she’s grown accustomed to it in some ways - finding her way
by watching the feet of others, trying to avoid the dirty, dusty, sandaled feet
that were everywhere. Speaking with the
other women at the well without ever making eye contact. Sitting in the sanctity of her home only to
find her seat offered little comfort to the crippled contours of her back.
She probably expected little more from her life that day
in the synagogue. As always, she
attended, observing the Sabbath as she had been taught. She had started to work her way to the back
with the other women, hoping to hear at least some of what was spoken by the
Rabbis in the front. She had grown use
to the disdain that was clear from bodies that turned quickly away from her as
she made her way to her seat. As a
woman, she was already considered no more than property. And in her condition, she was simply damaged
goods. It didn’t help that the teaching
of the Law suggested that she was to blame for the awkward turns her body made. She knew as any good Jew of the time did,
that God punishes those who sin.
Therefore, since she was cripppled, she must have committed some
terrible sin. But she couldn’t imagine
what sin was so terrible to result in eighteen years of crippling pain. And eighteen years of fervent prayer had
brought her no closer to an answer.
Until that day in the synagogue. She was on her way to a seat when the room
grew strangely quiet and she was the only one moving. She strained to see what was going on and as she
craned her neck to look she realized that all eyes were one her. She turned around where she was only to find
that the man teaching in front – the man she had heard was Jesus – was looking
directly at her. Looking at her! And there was none of the disdain in his
eyes she had grown accustomed to among the Rabbis. Rather, he called to her and his eyes gently
coaxed her forward until she found her bent-self standing directly in front of
him. She couldn’t look up any
longer. Her head dropped and she looked
down at the floor, as was her custom.
But that didn’t stop Jesus. “Woman,
you are set free from your ailment.” And
before she had a chance to ask him what he meant – before anyone had a chance
to ask him – he placed his hands on her.
He touched her! And
she felt an incredible surge electrify her body and there she was – standing
straight up! She didn’t know whether to
laugh or cry. She was standing straight
up and looking directly into the eyes of this man. This man she had heard was sent by God. And before she could stop to think she danced
and sang praises to her God, the God of Abraham and Sarah, the God who had sent
Jesus to her.
Her zeal was not shared by the leader of the
synagogue. After all, this was the
sabbath and the Holy Scripture required that the sabbath be kept – that no work
be done. “Six days shall work be done,
but the seventh day is a sabbath of solemn rest, holy to the Lord; whoever does
any work on the sabbath day shall be put to death.” (Exodus 31:15) And the Mishna was replete with rules about
exactly what did and did not constitute work.
Everyone knew, for example, that untying one’s livestock so it could get
a drink of water was not work. Healing
was work. End of story.
And
so the synagogue leader tries to convince the crowd of this – a crowd that had
already broken ranks and had begun to join this woman in praising God. “No, no, no.
There are six days on which work ought to be done – come and be healed
then – not on the sabbath day.” And you
can almost see him trying to shoo the people back to their places – to restore
order to the day. But before he can
regain control, Jesus breaks in. “You
hypocrites! You loose your ox on the
sabbath day so it can go for water. And
yet, when I loose the chains Satan has laid on this daughter of Abraham you
complain that I am breaking the sabbath?
And
when put in such a light, the leader could make no response.
But
the crowds did. They rejoiced at all the
wonderful things that Jesus was doing.
And
we too can rejoice. Because this story
isn’t just about a healing. And it isn’t
simply about reclaiming the real meaning of the sabbath, although recognizing
and attending to human need is a very important part of sabbath to Jesus. No, this story is about the radical way Jesus
interacted with one of the most marginalized people of his day – a woman – and
the freedom implied by his actions.
The
story begins in the middle of Jesus teaching in the synagogue on the
sabbath. Jesus sees the woman and calls
her over to him. It sounds simple enough
until we consider that in calling her over, Jesus has invited the woman into
what would be the man’s area of the synagogue.
The women were relegated to the back since it wasn’t considered
important for them to learn of scripture or Torah. In inviting the woman forward, Jesus
challenges this traditional belief that only men have access to God.
Jesus
then tells the woman that she is free from her infirmity. He doesn’t tell the woman she is
“healed.” Rather, Jesus tells her she is
“set free.” One has the sense, as Jesus
describes later, that the bonds that have held her back no longer have the
power to do so. But Jesus doesn’t stop
with words; Jesus touches her. For a man
to speak or touch a woman to whom he is not related was simply taboo in that
society. So in saying she is set free
and in touching her, Jesus not only frees her from her broken body, but from
the societal bondage attendant to being female.
And then when the synagogue ruler begins to
pick on this woman’s healing, Jesus advocates not only for his actions, but for
the woman as well. He calls her a
“Daughter of Abraham,” a name unique to this story. This name had power. While men were sometimes referred to as a
“Son of Abraham,” women were not identified by their relationship to their
ancestor Abraham. When Jesus named her
in this manner, he changed her status.
The name “Daughter of Abraham” not only recognized the woman as a human
being rather than property, but was a child of God as well.
Jesus
also challenged the belief system that charges this woman was ill because of
some sin she committed. He referred to
her illness not as a sickness, but as something “Satan” has bound her
with. Her illness is unrelated to
anything she has done. She is set free
from the burden of feeling guilt for her crippled state.
This
is good news! And the crowd recognized
it as such, for unlike many situations Jesus found himself in, we are told that
“the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things he was doing.”
Many
of you know that there is a Ken Medema song called “Eye to Eye” which depicts
this story in song and for me, helps communicate this good news. In this song, after Jesus puts the synagogue
leaders in their place, Medema describes the scene that follows in one mighty
crescendo.
Then the
amens came, they came from all around.
And the
angry red-faced rulers of the synagogue were put down.
And the
blind and the lame who had lost all hope;
And the
women and the children who had lost all hope;
Rose like a
mighty army to cheer,
For God had
given hope
God had
given hope
God had given
hope that Sabbath day.
It
took me over 10 years before I could sing along with Medema in this section
without crying. Maybe it was because I,
too, had lost all hope. I was bent over
by the weight of being sexually and emotionally abused as a child. I had been made to believe that I had somehow
sinned. I felt ashamed and guilt-ridden
and worthless. But in singing this
story, I could almost believe that I, too, could be set free from my bondage.
And
I have been set free - through therapy, friends, and a God that can make the
crooked straight. Oh, there are still a
few links of chain that clank about my ankles from time to time, reminding me
of what has been broken that still needs to be shaken off. But through the story of this woman who was healed
after being bent over for 18 years, through Jesus the Christ who has come to
heal each of us, I am no longer bound by the abuse that once strangled me.
But
so many women around the world are still bound up and bent over by violent
forces in this world. Just this week in
the news I was reminded that raping women was being used as a tool of war in
As
Amnesty International put it when it launched a 2004 global campaign to stop
violence against women, “From the battlefield to the bedroom women are at
risk.”
But
violence is not the only force bending women down. Cultural forces are at work daily. There is the beauty industry with cosmetic
surgery, fashion clothing, obsessive dieting – all trying to bend women to a
form that may not be their own. Economic
forces are at work, with women still making less than three-quarters of what
their male counterparts make in similar jobs.
But
there is hope. Because we cling to the
radical hope given by God through Jesus on that Sabbath day. For the woman who was set free from her
crippling pain. For the people who had
been beaten down by crushing sabbath rules.
For the women who were not told that they were children of Abraham –
children of God. For the infirm and
disabled who no longer had to bear the burden of shame for their illness. For the children who even the disciples
thought were too unimportant for a man like Jesus.
In
recalling the radical actions of Jesus on that Sabbath day, God has given us
hope. For all of us who are bent over by
burdens that seem too great to bear. For all of us who claim to follow Christ,
who are being called to break the forces that seek to oppress women and others
marginalized by society or made to feel worthless before God. Persons living with mental illness or living
in poverty. Persons living with a
disability or an addiction. Persons who
are gay or lesbian.
How will we allow God to touch us in a way that sets us
free from that which binds us? How will
we allow God to work through us in a way that breaks down the systemic evil
inherent in our world. For we worship a
God who destroys the power of evil – the very power of death. Our God has the power to make the crooked
straight! Come! Be set free from your infirmity!