Two businessmen were traveling by train to an important business meeting. In the seat opposite them was an old man with a shaggy beard, dressed in a tattered sweater and jeans. Throughout the ride the two told each other crude jokes about bums and tramps, with particular reference to the old man in the next seat. When they arrived at the meeting they discovered that this "tramp" was a world class scholar and the meeting’s keynote speaker. Realizing he had heard everything they said on route, they apologized. "It is not my forgiveness you need," he responded, "but the forgiveness of all the common people you hold in such disdain."

Jesus says, "Judge not, and you will not be judged." He says that in the 6^th chapter of Luke’s gospel—they are words many of us are familiar with; it is an ideal that many of us believe in. Yet just like the two business men, it is something we still fail to do. We know there is great danger in judging others and that it is wrong, but it is so easy to do. In fact, it almost seems like part of our human nature to size each other up and then to formulate some kind of opinion based upon what we have seen. No amount of piety is going to keep us from doing that. Each of us inevitably comes to conclusions about others—those we work with, those we share a pew with, those who live down the street. We formulate opinions very easily and hold on to those opinions fervently—even if we are totally wrong.

We hear a lot these days about who Jesus is. And opinions about what he was like, what he would want us to do and what he would think about this situation or that come from everywhere. In American popular religion Jesus seems to have been reduced to a warm, fuzzy, friendly chap, who has come to earth to help us feel better about ourselves. According to this view, Jesus’ mission is simple—he has come to make us happy. He loves those who look and sound like us, and live under our flag. He has little use for those who are not middle-class Americans. His aim is to make a world where we are even more blessed, even more safe, even more rich and have even more stuff. The end product of his gospel is that we be happy, that we think positively and that we go safely to heaven. Spend a day listening to "Christian" radio or television, and that is the Jesus you will encounter.

Those who first knew about Jesus—those who saw him grow up—they may have held similar opinions. Today’s gospel story takes place at the beginning of Jesus public ministry. He is still seeking to discover what God would have him do and be. Everybody else seems to know. "A report about him spread through all the surrounding country," our text reminds us. Everyone had an opinion.

One Saturday morning in Nazareth, the town gathered in the synagogue to listen to Jesus read and teach. This was not a big surprise—this was his hometown after all, he had been raised there—so the people who had gathered that morning were probably eager to hear what their "hometown boy" had to say. Imagine what they were expecting or hoping to hear from Jesus. Maybe he would praise them for all that they had done for him over the years. Perhaps he would talk about the evil Roman government. No doubt he would put the despicable Samaritans in their place. Whatever they were thinking he might say, none, I can assure you, were expecting him to say what he did.

He opened up the scroll that he had been handed and read from the 61^st chapter of Isaiah,

When Jesus finished that reading he handed the scroll to the attendant and sat down. In those days the preacher would sit in a chair—called the Moses Seat—and he would teach while the rest of the people would stand. So all eyes were on Jesus, waiting for him to begin his teaching. "Today," he said, "this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." Jesus interpreted Isaiah’s words as something like his mission statement or his purpose statement and, according to the verses immediately after our gospel for today which is our text for next Sunday, the crowd was not impressed. Why? Because they had already defined in their minds who Jesus was. He was their guy. He was going to be one of them, he was going to take care of their needs, protect them, and put down all those who were different. His mission, they thought, was to the right kind of people—to them. But as he spelled out his ministry, it became crystal clear that the people Jesus would be reaching out to were the despised and forgotten. He defined his mission in terms that were not only different than what they had envisioned, he defined it in terms that were downright scandalous!

He had come, not to pamper them, but to spend his life with the poor who would be the recipients of the good news. His mission was to the prisoner, to the sick, the blind, the afflicted. He said his mission was to be a liberationist, who would set free the oppressed. In these few short words he made it clear that his ministry was not to be directed to the proper, the well, the pious, but to the improper, the sick, the pariahs.

If how he put it wasn’t bad enough, the rest of the gospel of Luke describes how he did it. His friends were prostitutes, sinners, tax collectors and drunks. In some of his best stories the heroes were a no-good son, a Samaritan, and a beggar whose sores the dogs licked. Jesus turned everything upside down, and showed that his work, his ministry—his mission—would be very different.

The greatest shock, however, comes when we realize that his mission then is our mission now. How do we define the essential work of the Church? What is our relationship to this man, who was tossed out of his home synagogue because the people assumed he was to have one sort of ministry when in reality his life and work were to be of another sort, with people they despised?

What is our relationship to him? "You are the body of Christ," Paul says in today’s lesson. "You are the body of Christ!" We, the Church, are the body of Christ! That means his ministry is our ministry. In defining who he was and what he was about he has defined who we are and what we are called to be about. And that’s where it gets tough. To be the body of Christ means we may be much different than the world would like us to be, or even what we—who are infected by the world—see ourselves to be.

When we hear these words of justice, mercy and compassion from Jesus, what is our response? I truly believe that most of us want to cheer on the poor, we want to free captive souls, we want to give sight to the blind, to show mercy to all and to work towards the renewal of the world. These are wonderful things—these are noble goals that few of us could argue over.

But if we are honest, we will have to admit that for most of us the words that Jesus spoke are a kind of manana idealism—someday-talk at best. Yes, we may well hope that someday prisons will be empty, that the oppressed will be set free and that poverty will be ended—we see all of those things as worthy long-term goals. So we write the agenda into church pronouncements and political platforms, a wonderful dream for the future. Someday, we say, someday.

But what was the word that Jesus spoke in today’s gospel? He said, "Today!" "Today!" And like the people in Nazareth, we are appalled. As long as we can hear the gospel as a noble idealism, we can postpone the future and live now in a wallow of "middle principles." But "today" is a terrifying word; it forces tomorrow’s dream on us before we are ready.

What of this Jesus today? Where can he be found? Is he a memorable character from an old book? Or are we, "the body of Christ," truly Christ alive in today’s world? Perhaps we are all of Christ the world around us will ever see. As sinful and pitiful and imperfect as we are, we are his voice, his hands and his feet. And if that is indeed the case, what are we to be about? Do we exist for the care and feeding of ourselves? Is this body in the world to make the comfortable even more comfortable? To make the happy even more happy?

When you think of the Church—not just Bethel Lutheran Church, but the entire Christian Church—and you consider your part in it, what images come to mind? Who do we exist for? Are we, as Christ’s body, here simply for our own amusement? Or do we exist to fulfill the mission Jesus Christ defined as his own? The world needs to see Christ clearly and that means the world needs to see the Christian Church clearly.

The world needs to see that "today" we who follow Christ truly are working to fulfill his mission. The world needs to see that "today" we are reaching out to the poor, the imprisoned, the blind and the oppressed. How? By fighting for their causes is one way—causes like fair housing, living wages, universal health insurance, the abolishment of torture and other forms of harassment in our prisons, the establishment of fair sentencing laws, civil rights, etc. The list of tasks goes on and on—there are all sorts of ways we can reach out to those whom we have been called to serve.

We are stuck with the word "today" and therefore, we are stuck with this work "today." We Christians are called to be a radical voice in this world. We may be the only Christ the world will ever see. For as the spirit of the Lord was upon Jesus, so it is upon us to "to bring good news to the poor ... release to the captives ... sight to the blind ... and liberty to the oppressed." Amen.