The Religion of Jesus
A Sermon on Isaiah 61:1-3 by Dwight A. Moody,
the last one preached while he was pastor of Providence Baptist Church, Hendersonville, NC
On my last day as a minister among you, I draw your attention to the first day of Jesus’ ministry. Luke records in his gospel the story of Jesus going to his hometown Nazareth and taking center stage at the synagogue. They handed him the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. It is the longest of the four scrolls of what are known as the latter prophets: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Eziekiel, and the Twelve (what we call the minor prophets).
The ritual of taking the scrolls from their case is very similar to what I am going to do now. Our copy of the sacred documents is printed rather than hand-scribed; and it sits in the open on the credenza behind me rather than enclosed in a cupboard. In the temple or synagogue, it is called an ark, the holy ark; in Hebrew aron kodesh.
Jesus took the scroll, unrolled it, and read the passage that we now call chapter 61 and verses 1-3. It would have been more difficult for Jesus, as the text he was searching through had no vowels, no punctuation, and certainly no chapter and verse notations.
Jesus scrolled past Isaiah 9, my text two weeks ago. There, God promises the birth of a child that would carry the hopes and promises of the people. “For unto us a child is born, a son is given. The government will rest on his shoulders, and he will be called wonderful counselor, mighty God, everlasting father, and prince of peace.” It is a famous and fabulous text; but Jesus rolled right past Isaiah 9.
Jesus next came to the text I read last Sunday, from Isaiah 40. It is a hymn with four stanzas, you recall: “Comfort, comfort my people, tell her that her sad days are gone…. Clear the way through the wilderness so the glory of the lord will be revealed…. The grass withers and the flowers fade, but the word of our God stands forever…. Your God is coming, and he will feed his flock like a shepherd.” What a powerful text and no sermon can do it justice. Jesus scrolled right past Isaiah 40.
Then Jesus saw the famous and influential text, Isaiah 53, that I preached from three weeks ago. “He was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. We turned our backs on him and looked the other way. He was despised and we did not care. Yet it was our sins that he carried; it was our sorrows that weighted him down.”
What more could Jesus ask for? The lament of Isaiah that would shape two millennia of Christian teaching about the death and resurrection of Jesus, the very text that led to the conversion and baptism of that nameless Ethiopian man who came to Jerusalem to worship and on his way back home met Philip the deacon, Philip the evangelist, Philip the follower of Jesus.
But no: Jesus rolled right past Isaiah 53, He kept going until he found these words in what we now call the 61st chapter of Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted and to proclaim that captives will be released, and prisoners will be freed. He has sent me to tell those who mourn that the time of the Lord’s favor has come….”
Here, Jesus found the vision to shape his ministry. Here, we also find our inspiration for living as human beings, made in the image of God and following in the way of Jesus.
I
It makes a difference where you start and what points the way. In the Christian world today, some point us to the Ten Commandments and thus emphasize the dos and don’ts of religion. Others invoke the Psalms and lead us to the house of worship with an equal dose of contemplation and consecration. I have friends who navigate to those first decades of Christian history and find there the ecstasy of speaking in tongues, the sturdiness of doctrines like justification and sanctification, or the fascination with prophecies that describe events of world history is scenes of destruction and re-creation.
It makes a difference where you start and what you read and whom you follow. I want to start with Jesus; I want to follow Jesus. I want to read Jesus. Just as Jesus jumped all the way through Isaiah to find just the right text, so I want to jump over so much that is in the Bible to find Jesus, to read his words, and to watch his behavior.
When I was a teenager, the preachers bore down on sin, repentance, and salvation. That was the text and context of every revival and summer conference. But it was the none of these that captured my imagination and shaped my future. It was that simple command, “Come, follow me.” It was the call to be a disciple of Jesus.
I read the books In His Steps and The Cost of Discipleship. I read and reread the sermons of Peter Marshall. Jesus was the north star that pointed the way forward. Jesus can do that for you: not the preachers nor theologians nor mystics but the Lord himself. Follow Jesus: not Moses, or David, or Mary, or Paul, or even Isaiah. None of the women, named and unnamed that punctuate the biblical story. Follow Jesus. He can take you home. He can fill your life. He can bless you and bless the world through you.
II.
Jesus stood up among his own people on a sabbath day and opened to this poem in Isaiah. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. God has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted, to proclaim release for the captive and freedom for the prisoner. God has sent me to announce the time of the Lord’s favor.”
Any time you wonder what you are called to be as a Christian, read these verses. Bring good news to the poor; comfort the brokenhearted; release the captives; free the prisoner; and announce the Lord’s favor, the Lord’s grace, the Lord’s mercy.
Yes, there are other Jesus stories that help, like the beatitudes, and the great commandments to love God and love our neighbor, and the criteria for the judgment day: feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the prisoner, heal the sick, welcome the stranger, and give a cup of cold wa8ter in the name of Jesus. All of these take their inspiration from Isaiah and this poem quoted by Jesus.
This is kingdom vision. This is beloved community. This is gospel living. This is life on planet earth as it was intended, as we have capacity to live. This stands in stark contrast to the economic and political culture in which we live. From those self-serving platforms, it is good news for the rich, it is keeping people in captivity, it is building more prisons, it is breaking the hearts and hopes of the people. It is the spirit of anti-christ, crushing people and nations and families. It is not the year of the Lord’s favor. There is no mercy or grace, only luck, or work, or birth.
A few years ago, a psychology professor gave these exam instructions to his university class of 250 students. “I will give all of you an A- grade if you vote unanimously to do so: no test, no study, no exam, just the same grade for everyone. Everybody voted for it … except 20 people. When quizzed about their motive, those 20 people said some version of this, “I don’t want some undeserving, undisciplined student getting the same grade I get. I work hard. I deserve better. I can excel. I’m not letting some lazy student get a pass.”
It is not the actual test score that catches my attention but the spirit of anti-christ. It is judgment rather than mercy; it is work rather than grace; it is law rather than love. Which is why the old song rings true, “Mercy there was great, and grace was free. Pardon there was multiplied to me. There, my burdened soul found liberty, at calvary…where Jesus the rabbi of Nazaeth and the prophet from Galilee died for you and for me.
III.
I grew up amidst Catholic prejudice. It was the one thing that bound Baptist and Church of Christ people together in west Kentuycky: a certainty that Catholics were not real Christians. But I have been blessed again and again by knowing and loving Roman Catholic people. In the last four years, two of my best friends in ministry, both with earned doctorates, were received into the Roman Catholic Church. I have vivid memories of interviewing the great Benedictine monk Bargil Pixner in a garden on Mount Zion in Jerusalem. He wrote the books I still own and treasure, With Jesus in Jerusalem and With Jesus in Galilee. I studied at Notre Dame and taught at Duquesne University and Point Park College, both in Pittsburgh.
I am not a Catholic, but I honor Pope Francis. This past week, he initiated the Year of Jubilee. The Jubilee is the Hebrew-Jewish celebration described in the Torah, in Leviticus, and also here in Isaiah, in the text Jesus used to launch his ministry. Jesus was announcing the year of jubilee when debts are forgiven, land is returned, and slaves are freed. What a wonderful idea! We need a jubilee year, don’t we?
To signal the beginning of this year of jubilee, Francis opened four doors, entry doors into four most important Christian sanctuaries. It is a ceremony, a ritual, an occasion to symbolize the beginning of something special, something spiritual, something practical, something godly, something humane. This year, however, Frances opened a fifth door: a door to a local prison! It is a symbolic gesture, but it signifies something wonderful, graceful, eternal.
Isn’t there an old gospel chorus about this? “I’ve got a river of life, flowing out of me, makes the lame to walk and the blind to see. Opens prison doors, sets the captives free. I’ve got a river of life flowing out of me.”
Jesus stood up on the last day of a Jewish festival, John tells us in his gospel, chapter five. He shouted for all to hear: “Any one who thirsts, come to me. Come and drink. Out of you will flow rivers of living water.”
We know that river of living water brings good news to the poor, comfort to the brokenhearted, freedom for the captive, and hope to those who mourn. That river of life can bring you healing for your soul, direction for your life, freedom from your prisons, forgiveness for your sins, and inspiration for your life.
