By Pastor Paul Deming
Luke’s gospel differs from Mark and Matthew, especially regarding the story of Jesus reading from Isaiah in the synagogue. Quite frankly, Mark and Matthew do not mention it, except to say that Jesus went into his hometown teaching in the synagogue. (Matthew 13:54, Mark 6:1–2) If Luke is embellishing with the story, it is very effective. There is a certain drama to someone handing Jesus the scroll and Jesus finding Isaiah 61, standing up and beginning to read the first line. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me.” He is speaking with the veracity and resolve of someone who has been to the mountaintop, as Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. would say. Only it is now, in the present, that he is speaking, and the elders of the synagogue are hearing with their ears but not with their hearts. “Because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.” (Luke 4:18–19) In a television drama, the background music would be low but foreboding as Jesus says, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” (Luke 4:21)
Mark and Matthew do not tell of Jesus proclaiming how Elijah and Elisha brought God’s favor to people outside the tribes of Israel. “There were many widows in Israel when a great famine came over the land,” Jesus explains, “and yet Elijah was sent to none of them, but only to Zarephath, in the land of Sidon, to a woman who was a widow. And there were many lepers in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet; and none of them was cleansed, but only Naaman the Syrian.” (Luke 4:25–27) In Luke’s drama, Jesus has quoted one prophet (Isaiah) to proclaim a Messianic fulfillment of liberation, and mentioned two others to illustrate that “no prophet is welcome in his hometown.” One can begin to sense the indignance with which the synagogue responded. Just who is being rejected and who is being favored?
One should not stand before a congregation saying God favors those outside of the assembly walls and expect to receive accolades. In fact, the New American Standard Bible translation reads “And all in the synagogue were filled with rage as they heard these things; and they rose up and cast Him out of the city and led Him to the brow of a hill on which their city had been built in order to throw Him down the cliff.” (Luke 4:28–29) If Jesus had a PR firm, they would be scrambling to put a positive spin on his comments to the authoritarians in power. In the music entertainment industry, we would scratch this venue off the list for any possibility of a return gig. The Revised Standard Version translation reads: “But passing through the midst of them he went away.” (Luke 4:30) Hence, the scene closes on a dramatic episode that depicts a ministry geared towards the poor, the oppressed, and those outside the assembly walls.
I am very fortunate to be part of a liberal theological seminary, and I’m learning that the term “liberal” goes much farther in depth and meaning than I ever imagined. There are three writers of liberation and resistance theology who have resonated with me in my studies.
The first is Gustavo Gutiérrez, a Catholic priest from Peru whose work for the exploited in Latin America has made an impact on liberal theology everywhere. Gutiérrez helps me understand that “preaching good news to the poor” is not gifting some level of benevolence to those on the sidelines. Rather, it is working in the trenches to identify, challenge, and change the societal structure that has oppressed and exploited them, the ones who “are deprived of the fruits of their labor and stripped of their life and reality as human beings.” According to Gutiérrez, working with the struggle and conflict of changing history is where “God reveals the mystery of his person.” It is the nature of God to recognize and hear the cry of the oppressed, and to join in that suffering with the transformative power of the Spirit.
Jesus was not content with the status quo. He was a revolutionary when he turned the tables in the sanctuary and disrupted the profit-making exchange of favors. He challenged the lawyers when he healed on the sabbath. He told the religious leaders who had hardened their hearts towards God that prostitutes and tax gatherers would get into heaven before them because they were willing to change the ways that they lived, a grassroots change. According to Gutiérrez, the history of exploitation and human alienation will change “into one of authentic communion when we opt for the poor and exploited classes, identify ourselves with their plight, and share their fate.” The orientation of Jesus’ ministry was not to the comfortable within the assembly walls. His favor fell on those who were outcasts, who had suffered, and were open to change. As with Latin American history, the timeless words of Gutiérrez ring true: “At that time people did not see so clearly that it was society as a whole and its prevailing system of values that were being called into question from the roots up.” “To set at liberty those who are oppressed,” (Luke 4:18) calls all of us to reach beyond the assembly walls and accept with helping hands and open hearts those who are oppressed and join in voice with those suffering from systemic inequality and injustice.
The next writer is a Korean woman, Dr. Chung Hyun-Kyung, a lay theologian in the Presbyterian Church of Korea, and was once a temporary Buddhist novice nun. When she addressed the World Council of Churches in 1991, she explained that in Korea, the spirit of “broken-heartedness and the raw energy for struggle for liberation” is called “Han.” “In my tradition,” she said, “people who were killed and died unjustly became wandering spirits, the Han-ridden spirits.” Such spirits, she claimed, are agents for the Holy Spirit. “Without hearing the cries of these spirits, we cannot hear the voice of the Holy Spirit.” It is a bold assertion to say one cannot hear the Holy Spirit without hearing the cries of victims yearning for justice. However, it completely resonates with the biblical narrative. In Genesis 4:10, God is speaking to Cain who has killed Abel: “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to Me from the ground.” Perhaps it was the Han-ridden spirit of the unjustly killed Uriah that prompted Nathan the prophet to confront King David, who had arranged for the killing so he would have Bathsheba, Uriah’s wife, for himself. (2 Samuel 12:7) After being confronted, David was cut to the quick in his spirit, and he repented. Repentance is the first thing we should do when the Spirit calls us, according to Chung. Repentance is a key in fighting the poverty of spirit, not just repentance of evil thoughts and acts, but of attachments, of greed, and the participation in cultural values that exploit others, human and non-human, as well as the earth. Can non-human creatures be among the oppressed? Can the earth and nature be included among the oppressed? As an eco-theologian, Chung has a resounding answer:
“Traditional Christian creation theology and Western thinking put the human, especially men, at the center of the created world, and men have had the power to control and dominate the creation. We should remember, however, that this kind of thinking is alien to many Asian people and the indigenous people of the world. For us the earth is the source of life, and nature is ‘sacred, purposeful, and full of meaning.’ Human beings are a very small part of nature, not above it.”
It is a meaningful statement and requires a re-thinking of our place in the created cosmos, our relationships with each other and non-human creatures, and our desire for the sustainability and harmony which our great, great, grandchildren might enjoy. To give voice to the oppressed includes the creation that suffers the injustice of human capitalism and exploitation. We must go beyond the assembly walls and join in the protests around the world against global warming and the proliferation of fossil fuels that endanger our environment.
The third writer that speaks to me is Dr. Dorothee Sölle, a German theologian who was a professor at Union Seminary in New York. To Sölle, liberation is not a gift. To set the captives free is to enable them to see the possibility of their liberation through resistance, a renunciation of oppressive structures, disobedience, and, in some cases, practical illegality. Exodus was a struggle, a liberation struggle that involved resistance. “The Israelites free themselves from the wrong ideals of the oppressor, they stop singing the songs of the ruling culture of injustice.” To Sölle, Egypt represents the affluent. In America, “Egypt” would be the top one percent of the wealthy that live nearly tax-free, while the burden for the bulk of taxes falls on the working class. For us to consider the oppressed, the victimized, the marginalized, the forgotten, and enslaved, we must look at the economic, political, social, and cultural practices that not only give ascent to the status quo but also reinforce the systems that proliferate suffering. “If greed and lust for power are no longer structurally rewarded in a given society, then change is possible.”
According to Sölle, “To resist is probably the adequate form of struggle for those who are Christians in Egypt.” We witness forms of resistance in America, sometimes at great personal costs. When protesters of war and genocide are abducted and shipped out of their home state or shipped to prisons in other countries without a hearing or trial, they become the victims of injustice. When protesters of mass deportation are abducted and deported without a hearing or trial, they too become the victims of the injustice they were protesting. Protests, however, will continue, and the voice of resistance must be heard.
There is conflict, there is struggle, and there are costs. When organized efforts succeed in halting the deluge of consumerism in online and retail purchases, even for one day, results are seen, messages are received, and grassroots efforts are felt as empowering. Giving in to the notion that “you can’t fight City Hall,” is what Sölle calls “anthropological pessimism.” It states that our tendency for selfish ambition always takes precedence over our desire for justice and righteousness. “When we buy into this myth,” she says, “we agree with a prevailing understanding of history that is totally anti-Christian.” It is surprising how many religious leaders and churches espouse this kind of thinking; what I call apocalyptic thinking based on the “sinful nature” of man. If we are bound by our “capitalistic experiences,” and the “uncontrollability of life” as Sölle puts it, then aren’t we also limiting the meaning of “Christ’s resurrection too?” Her point is well taken. Our theology teaches that there is a divine spark within people who, given the freedom to choose truth and love over falsity and evil, can learn to find purpose in helping others, and, with God’s help, can find a regeneration of the soul in a life of selfless service. That life can be expressed in liberation theology, in resistance theology, and in eco-theology, to name only a few approaches that give voice to the downtrodden and the oppressed.
The reading of the opening of Isaiah 61 by Jesus in the gospel of Luke is, without question, a dramatic event that focused on the orientation of his ministry, the inclusion of all oppressed peoples, the marginalized, and those who are held captive by systems of exploitation, and the anticipated response from those in power who benefit from the status quo. I can imagine another dramatic scene. In this scene, Jesus is standing before a crowd of disenfranchised, abused, forgotten, and sidelined people of all cultures and races who have embarked on a journey of resistance and liberation, many of whom have suffered and died, as have some of the liberation theologists I have been fortunate to study. He is unrolling a scroll to read from the opening of Isaiah 62 in another Messianic prophecy. He speaks clearly: “For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent. And for Jerusalem’s sake I will not keep quiet, until her righteousness goes forth like brightness and her salvation like a torch that is burning. The nations will see your righteousness and all kings your glory; and you will be called by a new name which the mouth of the Lord will designate. You will be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God.” He closes the scroll and says, “Today, this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” And all the people said, “Thanks be to God.”
Read the full issue of the January/February Messenger.

Meet Paul Deming
Paul was installed as Pastor of the Garden Chapel Sanctuary in 2016 after completing certification requirements for Licensed Pastors. He is married to Suzy, and is the father of two grown sons, and grandfather of one grandson. Paul is on the ordination path and is completing his seminary training at Eden Theological Seminary in St. Louis. He has served on various committees, including Education Resources and the Nominating Committee. Paul is a singer/songwriter, a published composer, and a lover of the arts.



