Sermon: January 15, 2023 Second Sunday After Epiphany

Preacher: Rev Ryan Slifka

Scriptures: Isaiah 42:1-9; Matthew 3:13-17

This past week my wife, Cheyenne, and I were watching the series Fleishman is in Trouble on Disney+.

The trouble Fleishman in Trouble revolves around is a nasty divorce. Rachel and Toby Fleishman, played by Claire Danes, and Jesse Eisenberg, respectively, after several years of constant disagreement and seething resentment decide to call it quits. They have two kids: Hannah, who is turning twelve, and Solly who’s eight. And they’re constantly caught in the middle. As kids often are in a divorce.

You’ll never have guessed by their names, but the Fleishmans are Jewish. And there’s this poignant scene where Toby and his daughter Hannah are sitting in a cozy, book-filled study across from their older, learned-looking Rabbi. Hannah’s preparing for her Bat-Mitzva.[i] A Bat Mitzvah is the rite where Jewish girls are marked as entering adulthood and become a full-fledged member of the Jewish community. And the point at which point they begin to be held accountable for their own actions. Boys have a Bar-Mitzvah for the same reason.

The preparations are going smoothly. Hannah’s doing a great job at memorizing scripture, chanting parts of the Torah. Looks like she’s ready. All seems to be well.

That is, until the Rabbi gives her a short little speech. One on what exactly she’s agreeing to with this whole coming-of-age thing.

“Hannah,” the Rabbi says. “Hannah, you understand that you are engaging in a tradition that goes back thousands of years. You are accepting the yoke of responsibility for your family and your community, and all the commandments of the Torah. And you're taking it upon yourself that it is your turn to try and fix this world. The world is upside down right now, and we need all the smart, thinking girls to help fix it. [It’s your turn to try to fix this world]. And you're gonna carry this torch for all of the Fleishmans and all of the Jewish people.”

It's at this point that Hannah seems to take a complete 180. She nervously squirms in her seat. “I think I'm not gonna do this,” she says.

Her father is shocked, asks her where this is all coming from. He takes her to the Synagogue’s worship space to get a little privacy, to find out why the sudden change of heart.

“I don't want to have to fix anything,” she says. “I don’t want to have to fix anything. I haven't even broken anything. I'm only 11.”

It’s interesting, because Hannah does list off the usual adolescent stuff. How she’s not sure she believes in God, how she doesn’t see the point of these traditions, how have they ever helped. How she wants to create her own traditions. But the sticking point is the idea that it was her turn to take on responsibility for fixing the world. Her response? No thanks.

Truth be told I was kinda with her on this one. When the Rabbi told her that her job was to take responsibility for fixing the world, I turned to Cheyenne and said “I’m out.” Why?

Well, first, this isn’t how every Bat Mitzvah operates. It doesn’t represent every Rabbi’s instruction or Judaism in general. But it does represent a tendency we all have. A tendency that can be soul crushing.

It’s soul-crushing in the sense of its expectations. That’s a lot of pressure to put on a fragile, finite, failure-prone human being like me. Let alone an eleven year old girl. It’s all there in the way we talk about how it’s the job of today’s youth to fix the world. Or if you’re not doing something about this or that political issue you’re part of the problem. Political left or right, the urgency is the same. It doesn’t just apply to politics, either. We can see it as our job to fix our spouses, fix our families, fix our kids. Fix society. Which is tough, considering the fact that we can’t even seem to fix the problems in ourselves.

In the end, we’re simply setting ourselves up for a fall, because we don’t really have the capacity in us to do such a thing. Thanks to the internet we’re constantly bombarded by the world’s limitless needs, but we’re limited human beings. And if we do do something and the world looks like it’s getting worse and not better, if for all our hard work it’s all coming to naught… well a likely outcome is perpetual shame and anxiety. And eventually despair. I know some of you carry this with you. Sometimes daily.

No wonder that in the show Hannah took one look and took a hard pass. We have this tendency to believe that it’s our job to fix the world. But because we are simply human, it’s a tendency that can only be soul-crushing in the end. A recipe for failure and despair.

Of course, it doesn’t change the fact that the world certainly needs fixing. Ukraine, overdose crisis, the environment. If we can’t fix the world, should we just try find some kind of fulfilment where we can, and abandon any attempt to do some kind of good in this world? Can’t fix it, so we might as well eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die?

Maybe. Or perhaps there’s another way.

When it comes to fixing the world, we could take our cue instead from today’s scripture. From the first chapter of the gospel of John.

Here we have our friend John the Baptist yet again (no relation to the author of the gospel of the same name). And the thing about John the Baptist in John’s gospel, is that it does everything it can to take the spotlight of John. I mean, I find it rather humorous that the story begins with this incredible cosmic poetry declaring that “in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and was God.” And it talks about God’s light coming into the world, the light that enlightens all people, the light that no darkness can overcome. And then it has this little aside that says—there was this guy named John. But he wasn’t the light. He only came to witness to the light, to point out the light. Don’t you dare confuse him with the light.

This is all to make sure that nobody thinks that John is the Messiah. And John himself is always pointing away from himself, too. John says stuff like “someone greater than I is coming,” and “I must decrease, and he must increase.” John himself knows that he isn’t the Messiah. He knows it’s not his job to fix the world.

And if it’s not his job to fix the world, who’s is it?

The first words John speaks are all we need to know. We have this scene where John appears to be minding his own business. And then suddenly out of nowhere Jesus is walking towards him. We don’t know where, we don’t know who else is with him. But John points at Jesus and heartily declares: “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!’” Here, Jesus of Nazareth, this guy, is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

Now if you don’t know much about the Bible, or ancient Israelite culture, this may sound absolutely bizarre. It might still after I explain it. There are a few references, but the main one is to the Book of Exodus.

To the story of Moses, and Israel, God’s people, rescued from slavery in Egypt. You might recall that plague after plague was sent against the Egyptian Pharoah, and he refused until the last. The Passover. Where the angel of death passes through Egypt, striking each firstborn Egyptian dead. And to avoid the same fate, the Israelites were instructed to cover their doorposts with lamb’s blood. Which would cause the Destroyer to pass over their houses. Leaving them unharmed. Which is the moment where Pharoah finally relents and releases them into freedom.

John is taking this same image, the Passover lamb, transforming it, and applying it to Jesus. John is saying that in much the same way the lamb’s blood protected the Israelites from death and guaranteed their freedom from bondage in Egypt, that on the cross Jesus has saved humanity from death. And in his rising has smashed the chains of sin that hold the world captive. And notice it doesn’t say sins, as in our individual trespasses and falling short, but Sin with a capital-S. Sin being the source, the power, the brokenness at the heart of human life. All in life that needs fixing… in his death and resurrection, Jesus takes it all away.

John is declaring that in Jesus every sin has been forgiven. Every injustice will be corrected. Every wrong will be righted. Everything that is fallen, everything that is broken and hurting in our world. The promise of the gospel is that on account of Jesus everything that needs fixing will be.

John’s always pointing away from himself because he knows that it’s not his job to fix the world. And it’s not your job or my job either. No. Because that job belongs to the God we meet in Jesus Christ. "Salvation,” in the words of Revelation, “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the lamb!"

When we come to the realization that the world’s already got a Saviour, then we’re freed from the impossible task of making the world turn out right. We’re freed to turn instead in love to the little corner of the world we occupy. To the people in our actual lives. We can feed people, clothe people, house people. We can raise children, love our spouses and families. We can seek justice, and advocate for the least last and the lost, without worrying if it’s going to fix the world or not. Instead, we can do it to witness to the good news is in Jesus Christ, the fix is in. That the great divine repair job has already begun. And that in them there’s a light that will one day banish all darkness for good.

Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ. Your job isn’t to fix the world. Your job is to witness to that great healing power at the heart of creation. Your job isn’t to make sure everything turns out right, but to give an account of the hope that is in you in everything you do. Your job isn’t to save the world. But to point with every fibre of your being to a Saviour who—in the end—will get what he wants. A new heaven, a new earth. All things made new.

Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! "Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!"

The divine torch is already lit. Lift it high!

AMEN.

[i] Fleischman is in Trouble, “the Liver,” season 1, episode 8. https://www.disneyplus.com/en-gb/series/fleishman-is-in-trouble/6AsNBtsoTVn3