Lectionary for Oct. 27, 2024
23rd Sunday after Pentecost
Job 42:1-6, 10-17; Psalm 34:1-8 [19-22];
Hebrews 7:23-38; Mark 10:46-52
Lately I’ve been reading the Bible on a different schedule outside of the lectionaries to keep things fresh. I recently read 2 Peter 2, where the closing admonition is intended for false teachers who preach that deeds don’t matter and that God doesn’t really care what people do. The author warns: “If they have escaped the corruption of the world by knowing our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and are again entangled in it and are overcome, they are worse off at the end than they were at the beginning” (20; New International Version). This is a sad state of affairs.
Paul warns of preachers who preach freedom to return to sin (Romans 16:17-18; Galatians 5:13-21; Philippians 3:17-19). Instead, those who are adopted as children of God are to increasingly bear the family resemblance. Of course, we aren’t saved by our deeds but by grace. And our acknowledgment of that grace invites us to respond gratefully to be, in the words of composer Stephen Schwartz’s classic song, “changed for the better” and “for good.”
The author of Hebrews wants her (team Pricilla!) readers to know that Jesus isn’t like other high priests, who hold the office until they die. Since Jesus defeated death and will no longer die, he is able to save completely, because he offers unending intercession with God on their behalf (Hebrews 7:25). Jesus sacrificed himself, once and for all, and no longer needs to offer continual sacrifice. He has become, by virtue of his triumph over sin and death, the perfect high priest forever. It would be ridiculous, the author argues, to look for intercession of any others since Jesus has permanently changed what is possible for a high priest—for the better and for good.
We aren’t saved by our deeds but by grace. And our acknowledgment of that grace invites us to respond gratefully to be, in the words of composer Stephen Schwartz’s classic song, “changed for the better” and “for good.”
Lutherans, because of our namesake’s antipathy toward Jews and the way that Martin Luther’s writings have encouraged antisemitism around the world, not just in Europe, have a special duty to contextualize preaching of this epistle to the Hebrews. We should say, also, that Jews for most of the last couple millennia would agree that, strictly speaking, human high priests aren’t necessary for forgiveness. Just as the people in Nineveh repented after Jonah’s preaching and were forgiven, so can all other humans repent and receive forgiveness.
Even Solomon, in his dedicatory prayer at the temple, foresaw a time when Jews would not have access to a temple in which a high priest could offer their sacrifices. Solomon prayed that God would nonetheless respond to their repentance and prayers when prayed toward where the temple had been (1 Kings 8:46-50). We remember Hosea’s words: “Receive us graciously that we may offer our lips (prayers) as sacrifices of bulls” (14:2). The Day of Atonement/Yom Kippur was barely two weeks ago, and there was no high priest making a sacrifice. Still, modern Jews believe that God makes atonement. We should not think that Judaism today is identical with Judaism thousands of years ago. We must understand our neighbors’ faiths for the better—and for good.
And speaking of understanding better, a salient detail that I had missed in my readings of the Bar Timaeus story stuck out to me this year, and it points to how the man who was blind expected to be completely and permanently healed. Even though blind, Bar Timaeus saw clearly that Jesus was the messiah and called out to receive mercy from the Son of David. When Jesus called out to Timaeus’ son, the man set aside his cloak (Mark 10:50). Why bother with a wardrobe change? The man Bar Timaeus recognized as the messiah called him close, why throw aside his garment?
I think Bar Timaeus knew that when he asked for his sight, Jesus would grant it to him. Giving sight to the blind is a trickier miracle than even raising the dead (Elijah, Elisha and several other prophets could return the dead to life, but whoever heard of someone giving sight to the blind? See John 9:32-33.). Bar Timaeus knew that he was going to be changed for the better and for good, so he planned accordingly.
Jesus offers change. … We are to be changed for the better and for good.
You see, when Jesus healed the man, he told him to “go!” (Mark 10:52). Instead, Bar Timaeus followed him to Jerusalem. And, as Jesus was going there for the Passover, the soiled cloak of a beggar, who sat by the side of the road and couldn’t always see his way to a polite place to relieve himself, would have no place in the Holy City. Jesus would be going to the temple, surely. After he was called but before he was healed, Bar Timaeus knew that he would never leave the Son of David. He threw away his cloak and his old life, because he was starting over with Jesus one way or another. He faithfully followed Jesus to Jerusalem, putting off his old life and donning a new one with new clothes.
Jesus offers change. If we return to habits and sinfulness after Jesus gives us new life, we are no better than dogs that return to their own vomit (Proverbs 26:11). Instead, we are to undergo the gradual process of sanctification, to be conformed to the image of Jesus (Romans 8:29). We are to be changed for the better and for good.
