The Gospel writer Luke catches Jesus on the move today, in the early days of his ministry: on his way to the synagogue in his home town, to join in worship and to read from the scroll. It’s Luke alone who recounts the episode with the text from Isaiah, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me” (Lk. 4:18), and Jesus’ concluding sermon, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Lk. 4:21). His baptism, and temptation in the wilderness, have preceded, and the rest of his ministry will follow, bringing on the crisis of his death, and the fulfillment of his resurrection.
Our gathering stands in the shadow of these mighty acts of humiliation and vindication, by which God has wrought the salvation of the world. We come together to bless oil for the healing of the sick, and chrism oil that will be used at baptism: vital tools of the ministry we are engaged in. We also gather to renew the ordination vows of the bishop, priests, and deacons who serve here in Tennessee. Like Jesus headed to the synagogue, this is our custom: to remember the vows we made and to recommit ourselves to this life.
St. Paul writes in his first letter to Timothy, “The saying is sure: whoever aspires to the office of bishop desires a noble task” (1 Tim. 3:1), and for the moment we’re going to extend these words of the apostle to all orders of ministry, as we consider how we got here. God’s calling is generally thought to be involved, and that is decisive: no one is ordained by mistake (though, on a bad day, we might wonder). But God works through our desire and our will: our desire for the good that God wants to give us, and our choice of this life rather than another. As the apostle says, it’s a noble task that we have chosen.
Make no mistake: it is a task. St. Augustine writes in The City of God that the one who desires the title and has not considered the task is a crazy person (I’m paraphrasing here)! He points out that the word for bishop means “oversight” which “implies work rather than dignity.” No one can be a good bishop, as Augustine says, “if he loves his title but not his task” (19.19). This is true for all who embrace holy order.
So there’s sense in our Gospel reading, which catches Jesus on the move, going about the task, embarking on a good work that brings salvation. “He has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor” (Lk. 4:18-19). In the task we have taken on, we are following the Master.
In our liturgy today, in just a few minutes, bishop, priests, and deacons will be invited to come forward to renew the vows they took at ordination. At the conclusion all will say together, in words adapted from the liturgy of ordination of a priest, “May the Lord who has given us the will to do these things give us the grace and power to perform them.” To date, I’ve said the formula these words are based on almost fifty times at priestly ordinations, and I never fail to be struck by its awesome significance.
It’s fitting for us to recall these words and to say them today. St. Augustine writes at another place in his great work on the City of God that “an intention looking to the future must be connected with a memory looking to the past. For no one can finish what he has forgotten that he began.” We remember so that we can move forward. Again, “When we make a beginning, it is the ending which we seek, intend, expect, and long for” (7.7).
All of the ordained, whether bishop, priest, or deacon, have chosen this way of life. God has been at work in it, but he has worked through our will. We have accepted this vocation, with its blessings and its limitations. We have given ourselves over to it so that God can work through us, unworthy servants though we may be. God has given us the will to do these things, to chart this course and to take these vows, but we also pray that he gives us the grace and power to perform them. Without that grace nothing at all can be accomplished. God, who is the giver of the gift, will not fail to supply it.
I leave us with the wise words of the exegete and theologian Gerhard Lohfink, who writes, “God’s realm can happen only where human beings collide with their own limits, where they do not know how to go on, where they hand themselves over and give space to God alone so that God can act. Only there, in the zone of constant dying and rising, the reign of God begins” (Jesus of Nazareth). Indeed, may the Lord who has given us the will to do these things give us the grace and power to perform them.