Sermon for the 2 nd Sunday after Christmas, January 4, 2009

Bind up the Broken Hearted

“ The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me; because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD . ”

      Christmas is ironically a time of great joy and wonder, and probably because it is so, for some people it can be a time of great let-down, disappointment and sadness. Through the year the same troubling feelings may be there under the surface, but the apparently universal human happiness being shared by others at the celebration of Christ's birth may, by contrast, leave these people out of the joy and make their sense of alienation and loss especially acute. They may do themselves harm. That's the saddest thing in the world.

      Everyone gets the blues at some time or another. Nobody's life goes just as they plan. Our dreams give us a sense of purpose and hope, but our dreams are often cheated of their happy endings. We may get nothing for our efforts but the lukewarm feeling of having done a good job, at times a really good job that nobody noticed. What breaks our hearts is a longed for outcome that never comes, or when it does, the realization that it wasn't what we wanted after all.

      Jesus grew up in a very small village in the hills of Galilee called Nazareth . It wasn't Bethlehem where He was born, but He came to be known as Jesus of Nazareth anyway. He was the carpenter's son, and so it was assumed that He would follow His father Joseph in business, being the firstborn son. Some thirty years He would live under that assumption, and no doubt He turned out some fine tools and furniture for people. The most famous wooden item connected with Jesus, however, He didn't build Himself.

      They had to see what kind of person He was. We don't hear of miracles, but somehow His mother knew He could do things as if by magic. I don't think He was ever sick. His outlook on life, the way His heart and mind worked, was the healthiest and most noble of any young man ever. Girls liked Him, liked Him a lot , and were strangely drawn to Him, though He wasn't exactly handsome. They knew they were safe with Jesus. And He knew He couldn't have any of them for a wife, nor raise children, build His own home, or call anything in this whole world “ mine ”.

      I'm sure people liked Him; their hearts tugged as Jesus walked by. They may have wondered at that. He wasn't popular in the usual way, because He was somewhat mysterious and He could easily be all alone for hours. He prayed all the time and could be seen in the Synagogue at any time of day, speaking with the elders, drawing out the rabbi on subjects regarding Scriptures, prophecies of Messiah. They knew rabbinical teachings; He seemed to know the story without their help, but was just checking on details, finding out how they expected the words to be fulfilled. He was especially drawn to the words of Isaiah, a Virgin to conceive, a Son to be born whose Names were wonderful, counselor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, Prince of peace, a stem grown out of Jesse's root . One passage intrigued Him as though it were written for Him, by Him, about Him.

      He finally left the village, abandoned the business, and wandered the hills of Judea and Galilee like John the Baptist. It was said some of John's disciples began to follow Jesus instead. Jesus of Nazareth! Stories of miracles began to be carried back to the village. Capernaum, Cana, Samaria, Jerusalem: what about us? When does He come back and show his own people what he has to talk about? Do some miracles. Heal somebody .

      One day He did come. There was a stirring at the edge of the village, and was it, or wasn't it… it was : Jesus. He had people with Him. He held Himself differently now, and looked as though He was someone important. They greeted Him warmly, but they expected Him to be as He had always been: the boy of the village once more. Let this fame and public image slip while He was here with the people who really knew Him . On the Sabbath He came to the old Synagogue of His youth. Every person of the village was there. At the time appointed, Jesus stood up to read the scrolls. Knowing His love of Isaiah, it was this scroll that was brought to Him, and He rolled out that most beloved of passages: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, To preach the acceptable year of the Lord.” Luke 4:18-19 Then Jesus rolled it back up and handed it to the man standing by. Everyone looked at Him, wondering what He might say. At last He sat in the midst of them, the sign He was to address them as an elder, a rabbi giving his wisdom gleaned from the passages of the Book.

     “This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears.” It sounded pretty high and mighty, and wasn't this, after all, the carpenter's son ? It went badly after that. They didn't want Jesus to be a holy man, a prophet, a fulfillment of Messianic verses. It wasn't right, they objected, and who was He to take on such a superior place over them? They would end the worship service by herding Jesus out to the nearby cliff to show their ability to end His masquerade with violence. A prophet is given honor in every place but his own home and by his own people.

      He came to bind up broken hearts. For hundreds of years, the Jewish people had sung, “The Lord builds up Jerusalem; He gathers together the outcasts of Israel. He heals the brokenhearted And binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:2-3 Isaiah had added this honor to the doctor of bodies and souls, that He not only would heal the lame and blind, but preach good news to the ones who might listen, announce freedom to those enslaved by sin and guilt, comfort those who are sad, giving them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy, a garment of praise and heal their broken hearts. Is it a greater miracle to heal a leg or an eye? He did those things too, and it validated what even the healthy were feeling about Him: for He had healed their lives . Their sore hearts were being made new, encouraged with hope, strengthened with faith, and rewarded with love.

     What about Jesus' heart ? Surely this mixed reception from His home town was anticipated by the One who knows all things. Yes, but He had to go . You've tried to go home, haven't you? Revisited the places of your youth, sought out the favorite teacher, looked over the old softball field, the bend in the creek where you used to fish for polliwogs with bare hands. You've looked at faces that you remember, you recognize them and they know your face, but you can tell they don't know you . They hardly realize what your life has been since you went away, who you've become. There's no way to tell them. They call you by your old childhood nickname. You haven't heard that for years. You can't go home again. It isn't there.

      Surely Jesus' heart pained Him the day His own hometown didn't give Him welcome. As a baby, He had first entered the town with Joseph and Mary, who themselves were from Nazareth, and had brought Him out of Egypt at the news of Herod's death. Now as an adult, He entered it, and left it, for the last time. He'd done what He needed to do for their sakes. It was a bitter duty. They didn't hear Him or believe in Him.

      Jesus, whose heart was broken, who died of a broken heart, has come to bind up our broken hearts. Whether they be broken by lost love, the betrayal of someone who was close to you, the seemingly endless failure of your husband, the life of your child going horribly wrong, a dream never realized, a talent never followed, the guilt and shame of ruining your own life and the lives of others: however it is our hearts have been broken, by ourselves or by others, Jesus comes to heal these hearts and fill them with hope. No one ever spoke of heaven with such knowledge and certainty than the Man who came down from heaven to earth for us. Of anyone, He surely would know. The kingdom of God is real , though as yet unseen .

       Jesus comes to heal our hearts. We have all learned and have come to believe in a lie . When we've spoiled our chance at happiness, when somebody has done us so wrong we'll never recover, and our innocence has been shattered like a China vase dropped on a stone floor: we figure it's too late for us. There will never be that chance at love, or joy, or acceptance and approval. We will never be welcome . It will always be like this, if it doesn't get worse . Then old age, sickness and death . It looks like that and the bleakness of it breaks our hearts again. But that is a lie . I tell you, it's a lie. It isn't true, nor was it ever true. Your God has come to tell you it's just not so.

      First of all, we were never innocent. We were born broken . Our hearts that were longing for a better world were indeed right to hope for it, but they thought this world was it, and then naturally felt betrayed by false hope, a false home, and the wrong people. The dream had us going, but we're wiser now and not so easy to fool. Wrong! Our hearts were right to believe in a better world, and a joyful place, and people full of love for us and eternal joy. That place is real and it is true. It's just not here .

     This isn't our final destination and we haven't yet arrived, so the confusion and strangeness of it is no wonder. We are as though in a great train station, full of passengers getting on or getting off and going to many destinations. But our train is just pulling into the station. When we've arrived there , you'll see. Don't judge the place we're going by the place and people we find here at the station.

      Your heart was meant to heal, and it has good reason to be whole. Jesus lives and our hearts are for Him. Innocence is not your past, it's your future. The Father's home has an address in it with your name on it, being made ready for your eternal residence. All that is good, that you've ever hoped to see and do are there for you to experience and joy in. And everybody there loves you, already loves you. The good news, the Gospel , is true. And Christmas should always be full of hope for you, for it's the beginning of the true story , the story of your life as well as that of Jesus, the story of the beginning of joy. And there is no end of that joy ever. May your good heart be healed and filled with that joy.

PFH+