The only rule that matters. August 21, 2022. The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges

 

Luke 13:10-17

I can’t tell you how many times I sat on the sidelines of my boys’ soccer games watching them play when they were young. Most of those games blur together in my memory. But one that sticks out in my mind was the time when the parents were cheering the boys on and everything was going as usual until one of the dads pulled out a bullhorn - you know, one of those cone-shaped devices that you hold in front of your mouth that electronically amplifies your voice. “Go, Johnny, Go!” the dad yelled but now his voice was really, really loud. To the point that it drowned out all other voices including the coaches. And this dad did not let up for the rest of the game. It was obnoxious. Thankfully, though, this dad did not come very often and I bet someone talked to him later because when he did return it was without the bullhorn. However I had to laugh at the beginning of the next season when going over the registration paperwork I saw a new rule in bold print: No bullhorns allowed.

Rules are certainly at play in our reading from the gospel of Luke. It’s the Sabbath day. A day that God has commanded to be a day of rest. A day that, in order to honor that command, has a whole lot of rules around it. And so on this Sabbath day, Jesus is teaching in the synagogue when a woman appears. She’s bent over and can’t stand up straight. It’s been 18 long years that she has suffered this way. Jesus sees her and calls her over, lays his hands on her and heals her so that she can stand up straight. In the words of Jesus, she is “set free from [her] bondage.” But this miracle of healing turns out to be only a small part of the story. In fact, that's the case with most, if not all, Jesus's miracles. They are less about the hocus pocus, abracadabra of it all than they are about telling a better story, teaching a larger lesson, and proclaiming a wider message of mercy, love, and grace. As much as we might love a good miracle story, or not, the magic of it all is rarely the point.

For as great as it is that this woman who had been hunched over and crippled for nearly two decades can now stand up straight, considering all the things that Jesus can do, this really isn't that impressive. What’s more impressive, what really matters most and what all the fuss is about, is that it happened on the Sabbath. And in at least one person’s mind, Jesus had broken some serious rules.

Because what if the woman had just done what the leader of the synagogue suggested and simply come back for healing on another day? It would have been no less miraculous of a healing if it had happened on a Tuesday or Wednesday. But it’s likely it wouldn’t have been recorded for the ages because the healing itself is not the main point here. And that’s good because if these stories are just about the miracle then we're left with the rather hopeless reality that we can't do what Jesus does and that Jesus doesn't do those types of miracles for everyone. So there must be something more than a “just” a miracle here.

And there is. The “more” is the larger message that Jesus enters into the life of the bent over woman and into each and every one of our lives to heal and to comfort and to share God’s abundant love and grace with us - at all costs. In excess of every expectation. At the expense of every rule. Breaking the rule about working or healing or whatever on the Sabbath is Jesus's larger mission – and our greatest hope. For the only rule that matters to Jesus is the one about loving God and loving neighbor and living in any and every way possible that brings that love to bear upon the world.

So to hell with the rules. And I mean that literally. To hell with them. Let any rule that does not serve the rule of love be subject to whatever weeping and gnashing of teeth it takes to tear it apart. Because I’m sure we all have stories of when a rule, whether written or unwritten, was applied to us or someone we know in such a way that caused real harm. And, I would imagine, there have been times where we have been the one who has been so caught up with enforcing rules that we, perhaps unintentionally, have harmed others.

But here’s the good news. In the face of any rule that threatens to limit love, that infringes upon what God wants to do by extending grace and mercy to us and through us, Jesus stands up in the synagogue on the sabbath day and in any place and day of our lives and breaks the rules. Without hesitation he breaks the law so that we can know just how brave and bold and beyond reason God's love wants to be. And how beyond the rules we are called to be when we follow Jesus. So whenever we are tempted to stick to the rules it would be wise to ask ourselves why? Whom does this rule serve? Is it for my benefit at the expense of another? Is it simply a rule for rules sake? Does the enforcement of this rule serve love? Because if it doesn’t it’s not a rule worth following. For Love is the only rule that matters.

Because we can't heal every disease, but we can love one another through sickness and struggle and sadness - and that's a miracle too. We can't change the weather, but we can trust God's presence when the storms of our lives come - and that can be magical. We can't undo every sin, or change every sinner, but we can accept and offer forgiveness – and that's no small feat. We can't walk on water, but we can reach out to the outcasts and welcome them in – and that can work wonders. Because the greatest miracle of all – Jesus' resurrection from the dead - shows just how far God is willing to go to break every rule for our sake. And the miracle that isn't just something we wait for when our time on this earth is over. In a world full of so many rules, too much fear, and so much sadness which all conspire to convince us otherwise, we are set free from all sorts of bondage, like the woman in today’s Gospel, to live into the miracle of new life and second chances and amazing grace - every day, in Jesus’ name.