Waiting

Luke 7:1-50

Photo compliments of Jeferson Santu.

Waiting can be intoxicating or insufferable.

Waiting for your sweetheart to arrive on the next flight is intoxicating. Waiting for a root canal can be insufferable.

Waiting can bring about both experiences at once in close proximity. During our three visits to the delivery room, my wife Kay underwent periods of insufferable pain, while I, pain free, experienced nothing but intoxicating joy anticipating the birth of the newest member of our family. The l-o-n-g moments leading up to my first military parachute jump were insufferable, yet once exiting the aircraft, floating in celestial silence above the Georgia pines, it was utterly intoxicating.

I’ve done my share of insufferable waiting. Once as a sixteen-year-old, when my family attempted to make a new start in a community across the state line, I met some boys my age at the city pool. Later that same afternoon, they invited me to spend the weekend with them at the beach. The prospect excited me, especially since I was friendless in this new place. My mother’s unexpected response to the invitation was, “Pat, do you think they are pulling your leg?” I recoiled at her suggestion until I sat for two hours on the curb outside our house waiting for them to show up. These fifty-five years later, I still get red in the face when remembering my naive gullibility.

Our lives are full of waiting. Waiting for the weekend. Waiting for our ship to come in. Waiting for the next shoe to drop. Waiting for the lab results. Waiting for the Novocain to work. Waiting for Santa Claus to show up.

Lately in America waiting has taken on a discomfiting urgency. Many are keeping a countdown of President Trump’s days in office — 1,314 the morning I started writing this essay. Some are counting from the other direction — 149 days since his arrival at the White House…but it seems like longer…much longer. That may be because Trump already has signed a flurry of 161 executive orders in what seems to be a mad dash to catch FDR, who was desperately trying to arrest the Great Depression. This morning as I write, the president hosts an extravagantly expensive military parade through Washington, DC, while five million citizens are participating in 2,100 protests taking place in most every city in the nation — perhaps the largest number of protests on a single day in the history of the nation.

In the face of the two failed peace negotiations in Eastern Europe and the Middle East, both with grave, bloody consequences; a manufactured, opportunistic, and highly volatile federal incursion into Los Angeles, which included the thuggish treatment of a U.S. senator; and the growing revelation that his signature Big Beautiful Bill is a Trojan Horse that will impair three future generations of Americans — Trump’s approval rating stands at 39% and amongst registered voters 38%. His is the lowest since Eisenhower, who was reeling from the USSR’s launch of Sputnik, the U2 spy plane disaster, growing unemployment and fears of recession, and the deployment of federal troops in September 1957 to Little Rock, AR to ensure the safety of nine black children at Central High School. In that same year, Eisenhower suffered a stroke, evoking questions about his fitness to lead the nation. Citizens had a long wait ahead of them, 1,217 days to be exact, as Eisenhower did not leave office until January 1961. Our waiting is tougher, as the present administration’s troubles are largely self-induced.

A week later, I am still attempting to finish this essay. Kay and I are in Maine, where we have served St. Peter’s By-the-Sea Episcopal summer chapel in Cape Neddick for the past sixteen summers. Kay and I eagerly wait for months in advance to make our exodus from steamy San Antonio, especially since the mercury hit 100° for a string of days in May this year. This past week our son and daughter-in-law from Germany were visiting the Maine rectory along with our son, daughter-in-law, and three grandchildren from Louisville, KY. Most every inch of this rambling, turn of the century Victorian was claimed by those we love. And needless to say, the three grands demanded their grandparent time — morning and night. Kay and I oblige their entreaties, cherishing this season that we know will quickly pass.

The weekend that our nine leave for home, the administration bombs Iran’s nuclear facilities using 125 aircraft and 75 guided missiles. Iran did not previously attack the United States; however, the administration did not seek congressional approval, as is required by Article 1, Section 8 of the U.S. Constitution. Is this attack an incendiary response to the tepid response to Trump’s military parade or the spate of protests accompanying it? Attempting to take the high ground, Trump recasted the attack in religious terms:

“I want to just thank everybody, and in particular, God. I want to just say, we love you, God, and we love our great military. Protect them. God bless the Middle East. God bless Israel, and God bless America. Thank you very much. Thank you.”

1,307 days left. The waiting continues.

The Bible, too, is full of waiting. The psalmist advises, ‘Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord’ (Psalm 27:14). Grieving over the destruction of Jerusalem, the prophet says, ‘The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him’ (Lamentations 3:25). In the New Testament, James instructs those who are becoming discouraged, ‘Dear brothers and sisters, be patient as you wait for the Lord’s return. Consider the farmers who patiently wait for the rains in the fall and in the spring. They eagerly look for the valuable harvest to ripen’ (James 5:7-8). And the prophet Micah urges, ‘As for me, I look to the Lord for help. I wait confidently for God to save me, and my God will certainly hear me’ (Micah 7:7). Yet the most famous statement about waiting in the entire Bible is taken from Isaiah’s comforting words to the Jews exiled in Babylon, ‘But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint’ (Isaiah 40:31).

Run and not grow weary, walk and not faint. Photo compliments of Josh Gordon.

Waiting is a constant posture throughout the Bible. The long, meandering story is characterized by waiting for God’s deliverance from enemies, be them Philistines or local neighbors; waiting for God to bring the rain…or, as in Noah’s crucible, to stop the rain; waiting for the Red Sea waters to part and waiting for the waves to crash back onto the pursuing Egyptians; waiting to be freed from Babylon and then waiting for the Holy City to be rebuilt.

John’s difficult wait - Luke 3:1-19

The Bible’s longest and most agonizing wait is for the appearance of the Messiah. In this regard, no one in the Bible saga endures the hardships of waiting more than John the Baptist. His entire life is one of waiting and preparing. In fact, Luke’s Gospel opens with John’s aged father Zechariah being accosted by the archangel Gabriel in the Temple and told his wife will give birth to a child. ‘The child will become a man with the spirit and power of Elijah. He will prepare the people for the coming of the Lord. He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and he will cause those who are rebellious to accept the wisdom of the godly’ (1:17). Zechariah expresses his utter disbelief to the angel, as his wife Elizabeth has been barren throughout their long marriage and is now well beyond childbearing age. Gabriel strikes Zechariah speechless for his incredulity. When John is born a few months later, Zechariah’s resistance dissipates, his tongue is loosed, and he breaks out in song: ‘And you, my son, will be the one who speaks for the Most High. For you will go before the Lord to make the way ready for Him’ (1:76). True to his father’s pronouncement, John emerges as a prophet equal to the “big three” of Israel’s exilic period — Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Isaiah: In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar — when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was tetrarch of Galilee…the word of God came to John, son of Zechariah (3:1-2).

Three puzzling features accompany Luke’s account of John’s adult ministry. First, true to Gabriel’s announcement, John spends over two decades living as an unyielding ascetic in the harsh Judean wilderness waiting for the Messiah to appear. When John eventually begins his public prophetic career, it is with fierce warnings — ‘Even now the ax of God’s judgment is poised, ready to sever the roots of the trees. Yes, every tree that does not produce good fruit will be chopped down and thrown into the fire’ (3:9) — which, rather than repel others, draw immense crowds to him. Second, Jesus, too, makes the 100 mile journey from Galilee to the place where John is baptizing the masses. That being said, Luke briefly reports that Jesus is baptized, but John’s part in the baptism is not mentioned — only that Jesus prayed afterward (3:20-22). Third, just before Luke’s rendition of Jesus’ baptism, he briefly jumps ahead several months to report that John will be imprisoned by Herod Antipas for exposing the king’s adultery with his brother’s wife (3:19-20)

“Is the waiting over? - Luke 7:18-23

John’s brutal imprisonment, his fast approaching execution, his pressing questions for Jesus become the centerpiece of Luke 7. John has been waiting for the answers to his two questions the entirety of his adult life: ‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?’ (7:20) Luke is clear that for John, the coming of the Messiah has less to do with the rise of a renewed Davidic empire and far more to do with the rise of justice over rampant injustice in Israel. When those crowding along the Jordan River ask John how they should prepare for the coming of the Messiah, he instructs each one to undertake active justice:

1. ‘Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, “We have Abraham as our father”’ (3:8). Biblical justice demands a perceptible change of life — repentance. Proceeding from a “good family” or adopting a religious label will not suffice. No, repentance requires that the individual do an about-face and act in an entirely different way — God’s way.

2. When the crowd asks, ‘What should we do then?’ John answers, ‘Anyone who has two shirts should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same’ (3:11). God’s way is to act with justice. Because John is yoked to the procession of Jewish prophets, we must look at the Hebrew understanding of justice to comprehend his message. Thus, the word for “justice” in Hebrew is tzedek (pron. zě-idk) is closely linked with the word for charity tzedekah. To be just according to the Scripture’s requirements is to be measurably generous, it is to be an instrument of God’s grace. Quite obviously, we must retool our vocabulary to understand God’s justice.

3. When tax collectors ask what they should do, John answers, ‘Do not collect any more taxes than you are required to.’ And when soldiers ask the same question, John replied, ‘Don’t exhort money and don’t accuse people falsely — be content with your pay’ (3:12-14). Again, the word for justice, tzedek, is yoked to the Hebrew word for “righteous” — tzaddik. To be righteous in the Biblical sense is to live in right relationship with God. Greed, lying, and menacing shakedowns are abominations to God and are alien to His character. Paul going a step further asserts, ‘Therefore, since we have been made righteous in God’s sight by faith, we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us’ (Romans 5:1). Those touched by the Messiah’s love and mercy are made wholly righteous in God’s sight. Accordingly, our outward lives must then exhibit the qualities of righteous living.

Thus, Jesus’ answer to John when has asks ‘Are you the one to come?’ — is ‘the blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor’ (7:22). In other words, Jesus reports to his suffering colleague, justice has appeared with the Messiah. Notably, Jesus’ entire response to John, with the exception of “cleansing lepers” is taken from Isaiah 26, 29, 35, 41 & 61.

John the Baptist in Prison, by Juan Fernández de Navarrete, 1565, The Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia

The Messiah throws out a wide net of justice - Luke 7:1-17

Before John the Baptist’s disciples corner Jesus, Luke records him extending God’s justice or grace to two surprising individuals. Jesus first heals the slave of a Roman centurion. The centurion was a commander of the military occupiers in Israel, and what’s more, he was a gentile. Nevertheless, in a rare show of congeniality toward Jesus, Jewish elders plead the centurion’s case. Then, in an staggering show of humility and faith, the centurion confesses to Jesus, ‘I do not deserve to have you come under my roof…but only say the word and my servant will be healed’ (7:6b-7). The centurion is also notable in his loving concern for his “slave” at a time and place where that low strata of people were considered entirely expendable. Luke is subtly showing the reader that the centurion’s love for one on the margins reflects the Messiah’s focus of ministry.

Jesus next walks thirty miles inland to Nain on the southwest side of Mt. Carmel, close to where Elisha performed one of his memorable miracles, the raising of the Shunammite’s son (2 Kings 4:8-37). In contrast to Elisha’s full-body ritual, Jesus, again, merely speaks life into the boy and ‘gave him back to his mother’ (7:14-15). On both occasions, Jesus’ words confer life, an attribute which connects him to the creative power of God (see Genesis 1:1-31 & John 1:1-5). Also, Luke does not tell us whether the boy and his mother are gentiles; although, it is quite possible they were, as Nain’s population was made up of both Jews and gentiles. If nothing else the story illustrates that Jesus will travel far and wide to extend God’s justice.

Love returned - Luke 7:36-50

Jesus’ encounter with John’s disciples is book-ended on one side by his healing of the centurion’s slave and raising of the widow of Nain’s son and on the other side by his anointing by the anonymous sinful woman. The setting is a dinner party hosted by a Pharisee named Simon. Reclining on elevated cushions around the outside of a horseshoe shaped table, those dining would have their bare feet exposed to the outside wall. In the middle of the meal, without announcement, the woman enters the house from the street, kneels behind Jesus’ feet, begins profusely weeping, and uses her streaming tears to wash his feet. She then kisses his feet and pours expensive perfumed ointment on them.

Simon is indignant, but he remains silent; however, he thinks to himself, ‘If this Jesus truly was a prophet, he would know what kind of woman was touching him’ (7:39). Perhaps this is where the saying originated, “Open mouth, insert foot,” because Jesus is not only a prophet; he is the Messiah, and he has ‘not come to minister to those pretending to be righteous but to those who know they are sinners’ (5:32). Jesus punctuates the moment by quizzing Simon with a humiliating parable and subsequently grills his hypocritical host:

‘Look at this woman kneeling here. When I entered your home, you didn’t offer me water to wash the dust from my feet, but she has washed them with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You didn’t greet me with a kiss, but from the time I first came in, she has not stopped kissing my feet. You neglected the courtesy of olive oil to anoint my head, but she has anointed my feet with rare perfume. I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love.’ Luke 7:44-47

Simon is a terrible host, which was no minor failure in the ancient Middle East. He seems to have either invited Jesus into his home to quell his curiosity about the acclaimed itinerant rabbi or, even worse, to publicly humiliate Jesus. The fact that neither Simon nor his slaves offered Jesus the customary practices of welcome — washing his feet and anointing his head — were overt insults. Because the conventional footwear were sandals and the streets were dusty, foot washing was essential to make guests comfortable before the meal was served. Head anointing was considered a way of honoring a special guest, which, or course, Jesus was. No welcome was forthcoming until the anonymous woman from the street did so. She seemed to be watching and waiting for the opportunity to physically touch the Messiah as a concrete way to demonstrate her love for him. Looked at that way, her adoring ministrations become sacramental — outward physical signs inveighing inward spiritual grace.

The ultimate wait

The woman can be seen as a symbol of Christians and Jews throughout history. We are a waiting people — waiting for the Messiah to fully establish God’s kingdom on earth. Paul expresses our posture of waiting the best of any: ‘We’re waiting the arrival of the Savior, the Master, Jesus Christ, who will transform our earthy bodies into glorious bodies like his own. He’ll make us beautiful and whole with the same powerful skill by which he is putting everything as it should be, under and around him’ (Philippians 3:20-21, Message).

It is imperative for us to understand that Paul, before his conversion, had been obsessed with preparing Israel for the coming of the Messiah. He worked feverishly and violently to purify Israel by ridding it of the emerging Christian sect, known at that time as The Way. In fact, he was bounty hunting far afield from Israel on the Damascus Road when he unexpectedly encountered the Messiah for whom he was so desperately preparing. The risen Jesus addresses him using his Jewish name, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4) Paul is not only converted by the love of Christ, his entire understanding of God’s kingdom is converted as well. In essence, Paul learns three things from his Damascus Road encounter: 1. The Messiah has already come in Jesus Christ. 2. The kingdom of God is not found on a parcel of land but where justice reigns in the hearts of people. 3. God is perfectly represented in His Messiah, Christ, and he executes God’s justice such that it removes the barriers keeping people from becoming beautiful and whole.

We get this terribly wrong. We reject God’s demand to extend justice into this broken world, because, among other reasons, we tire of waiting for His results. Thus, we foolishly take matters into our own hands. Take today’s Israel, for example. The Otzma Yehudit party, the Jewish Power party, led by Itamar Ben-Gvir, currently exercises outsized influence in Israel. Ben-Gvir himself has been appointed Minister of National Defense, which gives him considerable control over the Israeli police as well as the para-military border patrols assigned to the West Bank. The Otzma Yehudit’s platform is garnered from the ideology of the American-born rabbi Meir Kahane (1932-1990), who advocated for a Jewish theocratic state in Israel where non-Jews have no voting rights and would be either expelled or forced to accept a subordinate status. The “Kahanists” certainly do not represent the majority view of Israeli citizens; nevertheless, their truculent, xenophobic ideology is being ruthlessly carried out in Gaza and concertedly executed in the West Bank.

Many Kahanists, like Paul before his Damascus Road conversion, believe their militant cleansing of Israel will hasten the coming of the Messiah. Unfortunately, an unholy alliance has been forged with Israel’s Kahanist Otzma Yehudit party by an equally outspoken segment of American evangelicals. It is “unholy,” not because it is an alliance between Jews and Christians, but because the two support the rise of a muscular, uber-edition of the Jewish state, which some evangelicals believe will signal the time of the Christ’s second coming. They cheer on the bombing campaigns and forcible removal of Palestinians, whose ancestors have been living on that land since 2500 BC. The gruesome irony of this alliance is that their bellicose words and actions are at complete odds with Jesus’ description of the kingdom of God as found in the Bible. Jesus teaches his disciples that God’s kingdom is not accompanied by fierce armies capturing real estate. No, the kingdom of God starts imperceptibly like a tiny seed that grows mysteriously under God’s grace until it becomes a sheltering tree for human beings (Mark 4:20-22).

Palestinian Christian Children at an Orthodox Christmas Mass at the Church of Saint Porphyrius in Gaza City on Jan. 7, 2023. Photo compliments of The Conversation.

Admittedly, waiting for God’s kingdom to take root can seem insufferable, yet merely the prospect of His justice reigning on earth as it is in heaven is wholly intoxicating.

The Lord longs to be gracious to you;
therefore he will rise up to show you compassion.
For the Lord is a God of justice.
Blessed are all who wait for him! Isaiah 30:18

Questions to Ponder

1. If we refuse to wait on the Lord and impatiently strike out on our own, who becomes god in that picture? Can you recall an occasion when you got ahead of God when you should have waited on Him? What was the result?

2. The Hebrew understanding of justice, tzedek (pron. zě-idk), is much broader than most of us realize. How must we live if we are to be just in God’s eyes? What changes in your life do you need to make to consistently exercise God’s justice?

3. On the Damascus Road, Paul not only came to realize that Jesus Christ was God’s Messiah, but he also came to see that God’s plans for the world and His people were vastly different than he had been taught. What most surprises you about Paul’s revelation on the Damascus Road? Does his new understandings change your own?