If we put the words in these verses on a game show wheel and give the wheel a spin, the chances are pretty good that we’ll land on the word sabbath. Luke uses the word five times in eight verses. So what’s up with the Sabbath?

Abraham Joshua Heschel, perhaps the most widely read Jewish theologian of the last 50 years, says this about the meaning of the Sabbath: “Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. . . . It is a day to turn from the world of creation to the creation of the world.”[1]

There’s an old Jewish story about a king who had seven sons. Six of the sons were sent out in the world to work. But the seventh son had to stay in the palace. Over time the six sons found their mate, but the seventh son had no mate. The seventh son pleaded with the king: “Master of the Universe, all of your sons have found mates, but I am left alone.” And God responded: “Israel will be your mate.”[2]  

On the Sabbath, we are reminded of the partnership between people and God, between Christ and his Church. This is a day set apart to cease, desist; to rest. Six days on, one day off. This is the framework of Israel’s life. And it is the framework of our life, too.

It doesn’t take much to bring to mind the great architecture of the Roman Empire. We think of Roman roads, Roman aqueducts, Roman coliseums; and while many would argue that Israel’s greatest architecture was the temple, the rabbis would tell you that Israel’s greatest architecture was the Sabbath.

Regardless of the season or century, exile or occupation—on Friday, just before sundown, the Jewish people turn off the stove, shut the garage, disengage from their ipads and light the candles. The cares of life give way to the author of life, and time stands still.

On the Sabbath, time is not earned or spent or wasted. It’s suspended. When the Jewish people pray on the Sabbath, they thank God that “Eternity utters a day.” It’s as if all of time is meted out within this architectural masterpiece.

It is a beautiful image, and I’d like us to take it one step further. Let us not only hope that eternity would be uttered in this day. Let us pray that this day would utter eternity.

The rabbis said that the Sabbath was good for three things: to ponder creation, to expect revelation, and to anticipate the world to come. We see all three things in this text.

Creation

While Jesus is teaching in the synagogue, he gets a certain perspective on creation.  What does he see? He sees a broken woman with a spirit that had crippled her for 18 years. She was barely able to walk. This spirit is a direct contradiction to the created order of things. We don’t know the details of her circumstance, but we can wonder. Who was this woman, and how did she get this way? Was she young? Was she old? Was her story well known in town? Were there people who at the synagogue who remembered the way she used to be?

Jesus might also have seen people who were annoyed by this woman. Her very presence was a reminder of everything the Sabbath was not. She wasn’t able to work six days a week, let alone rest on one. This woman was tormented. She was not at peace.

Revelation   

The public reading and teaching of the scriptures were and are the primary source of revelation in the life of the community of Israel in the same way that scripture is essential for our life together today. Here at Wilshire, we’re in the middle of a year-long emphasis on the practice of reading Scripture. We believe that scripture gives us a narrative that quenches our thirst for a coherent life. Because the life and work of Jesus are central to our interpretation of Scripture, it takes the pressure off us to come up with a more compelling alternative by ourselves. We see our life story as it relates to the biblical story.

When we seek revelation from the scriptures, we’re challenged to approach the text with a certain degree of curiosity. So when we read something about Jesus teaching in the synagogue, we’re compelled to wonder what scriptures were read that day. What was Jesus teaching about? Did Jesus receive some sort of revelation about this woman while he was teaching? This question about revelation brings us to the next point. 

The world to come

The Sabbath is a foretaste of the world to come, and the life of Jesus is the tangible inauguration of what the Kingdom of God is like. In this text, we see very clearly that the world to come has a lot to do with the present world. Here, God the Son acts with the mind of God the Creator.

For the Word was with God from the beginning. And in the beginning God said, “Let us create humanity in our image, and indeed it was very good. And God rested from work on the seventh day. If in heeding this command to rest, man restores the world to God. How much more, then, will the God-man restore the world to God? Can you see it? 

The one who preached good news for the poor calls the woman over, speaks to her, places his hands upon her, and sets her free from captivity. Immediately, She stands up straight and begins praising God.

If you’ve ever watched gymnastics, you know what a feat of strength it is for a gymnast to mount the balance beam and hand-stand and back-flip his or her way into a triple somersault. And you really know what it is when the gymnast sticks the landing. So if this gymnast can stand up straight, imagine what it must be like for this woman, who has been unable to stand up straight for 18 years.

That gives us something to shout about. Remember what we’ve said about what the Sabbath means for eternity. For this woman on this day utters eternity. She praises God. Jesus is making all things new.

He engages in a cosmic battle with a spirit of the natural world, and the evil takes flight. There’s power in the name of Jesus. There was power then, and there is power now.

I know a woman with a similar story. A serious injury in her early thirties caused her to suffer 18 years with chronic back pain. A year and a half ago, she was completely and miraculously healed because a faithful Christian who saw her pain had eyes to see and courage to pray. The last time I saw her, she had just finished pouring a concrete slab to expand the sidewalk in front of her house.

Unlike the woman in our text, the healing didn’t happen in one instant. It happened over a series of months as she began to confront the emotional issues that over the years had built up around her injury.

As was the case with the leader of the synagogue, this healing caught the leader of her church by surprise. These sorts of miracles don’t line up with his theology. Turns out, this Christian leader’s reaction is more severe than the leader of the synagogue in Luke 13. The synagogue leader had no problem with healing. He just didn’t want it done on the Sabbath because it could be misconstrued as work. 

But Jesus calls the synagogue leader’s reaction into question. “Does not each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or his donkey?” Tying and untying were two items on a 39-item list of prohibited activities on the Sabbath, but that didn’t seem to stop anyone from untying their livestock to lead them to the stream for a drink of water.

So if didn’t seem right to deprive an ox of life for a few hours, how was it right to leave this daughter of Abraham deprived of life?

This story is a good reminder that God will do for us more than we can ask or imagine. But we’ve got to keep asking and imagining.

A few verses later, Jesus helps us know how to imagine. He compares the Kingdom of God to a mustard seed and a bit of yeast. The implication is that small things grow into big things. The mustard seed becomes a giant tree. The bit of yeast leavens enough flour to make bread for a hundred people. The Kingdom of God is made up of small things that stretch our faith. Jesus did not heal a thousand people that day. He healed one. I don’t know a hundred people who’ve been healed from a back injury, but I do know one.   

Stories like these stretch the limits of our faith. Just when we think we’ve reached the limits of our faith, we come back to the Sabbath. It’s only a day, but week after week we come back to it. There’s a reason why Christians celebrate the Sabbath on the first day of the week. For us the Sabbath is the day of resurrection, when our fear of death was soundly and finally defeated.

Our friend Billy Malesovas is at home on hospice care today with an aggressive form of cancer. He’s under no illusion that he will be healed in this life. But Sunday after Sunday he has added a bit of yeast to our life together. Like the woman in our story, he’s known what it was like to suffer in the synagogue. Despite debilitating rounds of chemotherapy, no matter how much weight he’d lost or gained, he’s been here. On one particular week, I told him I was surprised to see him. “Where else would I be?” he told me.    

His story renews our hope with the hope of the resurrection. And that’s how the Kingdom works—story by story, person by person, small things work together to become something great.

We’ve gathered on the Sabbath. And today we’re committed to doing what people of God have always done: to ponder creation, to expect revelation and to anticipate the world to come. This day utters eternity. 

Amen.