On Poetry and Music and One Life

Luke 1:1-4; 24:44-53

[Luke writes:] ¹Since many have undertaken to set down an orderly account of the events that have been fulfilled among us, ²just as they were handed on to us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word, ³I too decided, after investigating everything carefully from the very first, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, ⁴so that you may know the truth concerning the things about which you have been instructed.
 ^24:44[Before he ascended, Jesus said to the disciples and their companions:] “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.”⁴⁵Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, ⁴⁶and he said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, ⁴⁷and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. ⁴⁸You are witnesses of these things. ⁴⁹And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.”
 ⁵⁰Then he led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. ⁵¹While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven. ⁵²And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; ⁵³and they were continually in the temple blessing God.

On Music and Poetry and One Life

I have songs in my heart this morning.

And poetry.

Afterall, what is a song but poetry set to music?

You know, there are a couple of distinctive features of the Gospel written by this Apostle we know as Luke, the Feast the church in both the East and the West honors today.

The Feast of Saint Luke, Evangelist has historically been a day when the faithful donated to healthcare organizations in honor of Saint Luke. If Jesus is The Great Physician, Saint Luke is at least remembered as a good one, and it does not go unnoticed in my heart today that this feast day where many will donate to a hospital comes on the heels of the bombing of a hospital in Gaza where hundreds of people were killed, including many good physicians.

Including the Great Physician who, if we take the incarnation seriously, was certainly huddled with those innocents there, once again crucified on the cross of human cruelty.

In iconography Saint Luke is often depicted holding a drawing of Saint Mary, Mother of Our Lord because lore has it he was the first to paint a picture of her.  Perhaps he’s more of a Renaissance man than just a physician. A writer, an artist, a doctor, a historian…he seemed to be able to do it all.

His symbol, though, is what really draws me to this ancient architect of the faith.  Perhaps around your altar at your parish, or perhaps in the stained glass window, you’ve seen the human face symbolizing Saint Matthew, the cerebral one, the lion symbolizing Saint Mark, the wild and quick one, the eagle symbolizing Saint John, the writer of high spiritual flight, and then Saint Luke, the seated ox, who patiently, step by step, plod by plod tells the story of Jesus and the first church for a people who aren’t great at remembering things and sometimes need the cadence to be simple, slow, and pure.

That’s Saint Luke.

His Gospel also has the distinction of including many of the great songs of the church. His ancient poetry is woven into our liturgy in such a way that when we sing the faith we sing the scriptures.

The Magnificat, Mary’s song of defiance in the face of Empire, is found in Luke.

And, Beloved, we could use some throne toppling and lifting up the lowly of heart in these days…

The Benedictus, or Song of Zechariah, where the elder of the temple praises God for deliverance…may it be sung today.

The Gloria, sung by the angels to the shepherds on that hill in ancient Palestine, the gloria sung in so many of our houses of worship every. single. week. is snatched from Luke’s gospel…

“Glory to God in the highest, and peace to God’s people on earth…”

Peace to God’s people on earth.  If that refrain could be put on repeat, by God…echoing in the ancient hills of Palestine, and not only there, but in the streets of Chicago and the halls of Congress and the grain fields of Ukraine and in the hearts of all of us…

The Nunc Dimitus, or Song of Simeon, where the patient prophet give thanks for having finally seen Jesus, knowing that God had kept God’s promises…

Oh Lord, keep your promises.

Luke patiently sings these songs of defiance, these songs of promises kept, these songs of peace, and remember that all of these songs come in the first few chapters of Luke’s Gospel, almost as a prelude to the Jesus story, almost as if these songs of defiance and peace and promise are the musical score behind the rest of the Gospel, bleeding into his sequel, the Book of Acts.

Because Luke’s Gospel is not only the one with the most poetry, the most music, but also the one that lifts up those on the margins on the regular.  Luke’s Gospel has the most healing stories, centering the focus of the work of Christ on those the world would rather not see.  Luke’s Gospel lifts up women, centering the focus of the early Jesus movement on the shoulders of the matriarchs of faith amidst a sea of patriarchy.  Luke’s Gospel lifts up economy and empire as being stumbling blocks to human flourishing,

It is in Luke where Jesus gives his beatitudes sermon not high above the people, on a mountain, but on a plain, standing as equals with a humanity who often wants to play status and hierarchy games.

The poor. The marginalized. The outcast. The taboo.

Luke has Jesus weaving in and out of the lives of those the world would rather ignore, all the while undergirding the story with this poetry, this musical score of defiance and peace and promises filled…

Beloved, on the Feast of Saint Luke, I’m reminded that we need to amp up that musical score a bit in these days.  We need to lean back on that prelude a bit and sing the words loudly to one another, and to the whole world, and adopt the approach of Saint Luke, the Ox, patiently but loudly singing with Mary, “From East to West may the name be blessed, cause the world is about to turn…”  Singing with Gabriel, “Glory to God in the highest, and peace to God’s people on earth…”  Singing with Zechariah and Simeon and Anna that our eyes have seen the salvation of God and guess what?

It is not in bombs.

It is not in bullets.

It is not in occupation.

It is not in revenge.

It is in not in war cries, but in a baby’s cry…a baby’s cry…and every cry of every baby…and we need to remember that the majority of those living in Gaza right now are under 15, and the first targets of Hamas were the young, dancing away at a peace festival…

Every cry of every baby is a reminder of the point that Luke centered on over and over again: God’s salvation work, God’s divine character, God’s human-likeness is found not in the muscles of the powerful but in the powerful love of those on the margins, the powerful love of a God who would rather die, even die on a cross, than have us kill one another in these hunger games of hate we wage…

A song is poetry put to music, and though I don’t know of any music that undergirds this last poem, for some reason it’s on my heart today.  Written by the poet and theologian Padraig O’Tuama, an Irish-born prophet who knows a bit about war and conflict in his own land, wrote this about “The Troubles” as we who come from those lands know it, the conflict over that small island of the north.  Entitled, “The Pedagogy of Conflict,” the third stanza of this poem sings to me this morning…

When I was a child,
I learnt to count to five
one, two, three, four, five.
but these days, I’ve been counting lives, so I count

one life
one life
one life
one life
one life

because each time
is the first time
that that life
has been taken.

Legitimate Target
has sixteen letters
and one
long
abominable
space
between
two
dehumanising
words.

One life.  Luke’s Gospel patiently, pleadingly, ploddingly tells the story of Jesus centered on one marginalized life at a time. The hemorrhaging woman. The man born blind. The leper. The widow. The unwed teenage mother. The outcast shepherd. The confused and sad saints on the road to Emmaus.

The frightened baby in Tel Aviv. The fearful one in Jerusalem. The desperate mother with nowhere to flee in Gaza, clutching her baby’s hand. The family of the kidnapped not knowing who to ask for help. The kidnapped, not knowing what tomorrow brings.

You. Me. Our stories interwoven with the songs of the witnesses of these things. Each life seen through the one life of a God who Saint Luke reminds us sings of peace and defiance and promises kept in the face of everything…everything…anything…all things.

May we join the song in these days as both witnesses of the resurrection, and ones who continually need redeeming, by God.

Amen.