Priest, Prophet, and King – 146B 29th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Cycle B
Lectionary 146B 29th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Cycle B
When I was young, I thought the world revolved around me. I didn’t THINK I thought so, but I did. I would read the prophets, looking for some clues about my own future, or God’s will for me, or some mystery of the incarnation. Or, worse, I’d practice the “open and point” method of divination by Scripture.
The inappropriateness of that approach to scripture was especially obvious when I’d come across a verse like today’s reading from Isaiah.
The LORD was pleased to crush him in infirmity.
um… God is pleased to cause suffering?
…If he gives his life as an offering for sin, he shall see his descendants in a long life…
He gives his life… and sees his descendants… what sort of logic is this?
Hrm. Maybe God meant for me to find some other verse? I mean, really, how on earth am I supposed to apply that to my life?
I would sometimes apply a purely Christ-centric reading to a scripture like this, ignoring the fact that this portion of Isaiah is written to encourage a nation of Israel in exile that, someday soon, they will be restored, not just to announce a distant messiah who will mystically and metaphorically fulfill all promises.
Our lectionary selections are chosen to emphasize the spiritual meaning of a portion of scripture, so reading the scripture in context or in better translations sometimes introduces more questions than clarifications, but let’s consider this reading in context.
The prophet, in this portion of Isaiah, writes to a people of God in captivity or exile. God addresses the people through the prophet as “my servant,” explicitly identified as representing Israel. God, through the prophet, beats them up a good deal in previous passages, making it clear their suffering is their own darn fault. In this portion, however, the prophet relays a message of encouragement. God still has a plan to restore God’s people to peace, prosperity, and positive influence.
Ok, so, let’s dive in to the word…
God is pleased to crush his servant, Israel, in infirmity. We know from other scripture passages that the prophets sometimes refer to the effect of enemy nations upon the people of God and their land with the metaphor of disease, illness, wounds, and infirmity. So, that makes sense here. Israel is not only wounded, but crushed to dust by enemies, perhaps for various iniquities, but perhaps for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time, situated on the road between larger warring empires.
If he gives his life as a sin offering, he shall see his descendants in a long life. Hrm… how does one give one’s life, and also see descendants in a long life? That’s a tricky one. Perhaps an old person, knowing they could not make the four months’ (Ezra 7) walk back from Babylon, caravanning through some 900 miles of often hostile territory, and to the promised land could experience this. I can imagine knowing I would not survive the journey, but rejoicing that my children and my grandchildren would, and that they would bring my offerings to help build and consecrate a new temple. Perhaps through the eyes of faith, one might sacrifice one’s life and still “see” the blessing.
On the other hand, “have faith” is hardly a word of encouragement, especially to someone feeling crushed. We don’t do that to people, do we? No? Good. It’s unhelpful.
We could simply say “Jesus,” but that’s cheating. The prophet’s words must have meaning to the people some 700 years prior to Jesus’ birth, or they would have simply discarded it as irrelevant babbling by yet another madman, and we’d never have a chance to consider them in the light of Christ.
In this case, I found Isaiah’s context within the selections for this Sunday enlightening. There’s a common theme in our reading from Hebrews and in the Gospel. I know it’s been a few minutes, and I’ve been talking about our reading from Isaiah, so, as a reminder – Hebrews was about Jesus, our High Priest. Mark’s Gospel is about the sons of Zebedee asking to sit in authority with Jesus, and being told that they’ll suffer, and the great ones in the Kingdom of God will be servants, and the slave of all.
Who suffers, and who serves as servants and slaves in this kingdom?
Perhaps this points to priesthood. The Church seems to agree, as these words of Jesus, that he came not to be served, but to serve, are central to our own priestly ordination rite.
Priests are called to offer sacrifice on behalf of others. The Christian ministerial priesthood re-presents Christ’s sacrifice to us on the altar, and also in their life. We see their sacrifice from the time they are “Father What a Waste,” as some of the ladies jokingly refer to certain of our young and dashingly handsome priests, until the time we see the painful suffering of our elderly priests, who can barely walk or hold a chalice, but persist in their faithful service at the altar and in our communities.
Certainly, we are all called by virtue of our baptism to be priest, prophets, and kings, but the ministerial priesthood is called in a special way. That’s the greatness Jesus encourages James and John to pursue. A greatness derived from suffering in union with Christ on behalf of others.
So, how about that passage in Isaiah, in the context of these priestly references in both the Gospel and the reading from Hebrews?
Hrm… offerings… sin offerings… offerings made on behalf of someone who’s sinned, who’s fallen short of God’s best for us. The animal is a symbolic reminder that the sinner deserves death, but escapes thanks to God’s mercy. And, who is it that makes a sin offering? The priest. And who is a priest? A member of the tribe of Levi, accepted into service (Numbers 3) in place of the firstborn son of each family. Not just a hireling, but still a son in some way, as each family remains responsible for a tithe to support these representative sons. The Levitical priest, and our priests today, are in some way, everyone’s brother. He is also a sacrifice, as we see so clearly in Numbers 8, and in our own ordination rites, where the priest is purified and consecrated as an un-bloody sacrifice of service.
So… the Lord was pleased to allow Israel to suffer at the hands of enemies, but the promise of a nation of priests is still good. Although afflicted, and suffering in exile, God still promises that his people Israel will be the means of justification for many, and their suffering will have meaning.
And, Jesus, of course, as the perfect son of Israel, is crushingly wounded, suffers on our behalf, and gives his life as an offering for sin, and yet is the first-born of the dead, who sees spiritual children descending eternally.
But what about me? It’s not all about me, but… what about me?
I, too, am called to remember that greatness in God’s eyes is to suffer and serve for others. Greatness is to give my life for others as I drink his cup of suffering in little baby sips, since I’m not big enough, yet, to drink the whole cup. I can take comfort in my small sufferings, because my great high priest, Jesus, sympathizes with my suffering and weakness, offers mercy for my failure, and “timely help” in my time of need.
We are called to be a kingdom of priests, prophets and kings. Although this Sunday, the Church asks us to consider the priestly ministry, the other two are not forgotten. It’s the prophet in Isaiah who speaks to us, and the Gospel deals with the authority of kingship, even referencing the idea of sitting at the right and left hand of Jesus enthroned in glory. The priest presents people to God. The prophet presents God and the truth of God to the people. The king helps guide us to live rightly. We are called to all three.
As “little p” priests, we strive to help others reconcile with God, and with the Church. We live out that reconciliation ourselves, then invite others to join us in that journey of sanctification. As “big P” priests, our pastors exercise that ministry more fully.
As prophets, we are called to present God and the truth of God to others. That means learning and understanding those truths well enough that we can apply and share them in ways accessible to the world around us.
As kings, we make the kingdom of God, God’s very presence, real in the world around us in our daily life. As the body of Christ, we know that we are “like a sacrament” of Christ to the world. As we receive Christ and go out into the world, we make him present. Although not a “big s” sacrament for the Church, ordination rites, from Samuel through the Catholic European kings, make it clear that a king is intended to be the premiere “little s” sacramental presence of Christ in the world. The king should most thoroughly represent and “be” Christ in the world.
Our priestly ministry is largely one-on-one, and our prophetic ministry usually does not extend beyond our faith community, but this ministry of kingship? This is an especially outwardly focused effort, as we strive to not only live our faith, but also to encourage and empower others to do the same within our sphere of influence, and even to seek opportunities to expand that influence into the world.
Our calling as priest, prophet and king are challenging, but we are not called to them alone. It’s not about me, it’s about us. None of us have to do this alone.
The suffering servant is the nation of Israel, and the Church is grafted in to that nation. While this challenging call to service and promise of help are for us individually, they’re especially true for us as the body of Christ, the Church.
We do have help from one another, and should lean on one another for that help.
We do have a high priest who understands intimately our sufferings, and who wants us to “confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help.”
