Good News to the Poor

A small stone synagogue in a hill town. It is the Sabbath. A young man stands up, and the attendant hands him a scroll. He unrolls it, finds the place he wants, and begins to read. Every eye in the room is on him.

We'll come back to that synagogue. But first, the words on the scroll. They come from the book of Isaiah, chapter sixty-one, spoken to God's people in hard times. Many were poor. Many were grieving. Some were in debt, some were captives, some sat in the ashes of what used to be their homes. In Israel's law, God had made a remarkable rule called the Jubilee. Every fiftieth year, debts were to be cancelled, slaves set free, and family land given back. A fresh start for everyone. It was called the year of liberty. Isaiah's words take that hope and make it bigger than ever.

Someone is speaking, and he speaks about himself. “The Lord God's Spirit is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the humble. He has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to those who are bound.” Anointed. Chosen and filled with God's Spirit, like the servant in Isaiah's earlier songs. And look at his job description. Good news, for the humble and the poor. Bandages, for broken hearts. Freedom, for captives. Open doors, for prisoners. Everyone the world forgets is first on his list.

He has been sent “to proclaim the year of the Lord's favour, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn.” A whole year of God's kindness, a Jubilee like no other. And then a lovely picture of exchange. To those who mourn in Zion, he will give “a garland for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.” In those days, grieving people sat in ashes and threw dust on their heads. Now the ashes are swapped for a festive headdress. The grey of mourning is swapped for oil that makes faces shine. The heavy spirit is swapped for clothes of praise. And the people will be called “trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.” Strong, deep-rooted trees, planted by God himself.

Now, back to that synagogue in Nazareth. The young man is Jesus. He has grown up in this town, and people know his family. He reads: The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He reads to the line about the acceptable year of the Lord. Then he stops. He rolls up the scroll, gives it back to the attendant, and sits down, which is what a teacher did before teaching. The whole room is silent, staring. And Jesus says: Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing. Today. Not someday. The one Isaiah heard speaking is standing in front of them. He spent his life doing exactly this: welcoming the poor, healing the hurting, setting people free.

The Jubilee words still ring out today, quite literally. The Liberty Bell in Philadelphia, cast in the seventeen-fifties for the State House where America's Declaration of Independence was later signed, carries an inscription from the Jubilee law in Leviticus chapter twenty-five, verse ten: Proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof. In the eighteen-thirties, campaigners against slavery adopted the bell as their symbol and gave it the name Liberty Bell.

Good news to the poor. You'll find it in Isaiah chapter sixty-one, verses one to three, and in Luke chapter four. Jesus came for the broken-hearted, the captive and the grieving. So here is a question to carry with you. Who around you needs good news, comfort or a fresh start, and how could you show them Jesus' kindness?