January 2019
January 6, 2019
"Four Dreams," based on Matthew 2:1-12
(reading follows the sermon)
When I was 9 years old, my brother Don enlisted in the Army. It was the Vietnam era. Men like my brother were at high risk of getting drafted. 58,000 American soldiers died during that war. Most of the drafted were working-class and rural youth, like my brother. Blacks made up a disproportionate number. Civil rights leaders like Martin Luther King, Jr. criticized those disparities. Economic class and race definitely played a role in who fought and died in Vietnam, as it does in most wars. Growing up in a poor family in a small town, my brother had limited choices. So, when Don graduated from high school, he decided to sign up, because the military promised enlistees more control over where they might be placed. And they held to that promise. During his first three years, Don spent most of his time in Germany. But after re-enlisting, Don got sent to Vietnam.
My mother used to worry about my brother. A couple years after he joined the Army, my mom had a strange dream that scared her. She dreamed that something bad had happened to Don. A few days later, she got a phone call. It was my brother. He told her that he had dislocated a kneecap in an accident at his barracks. Thankfully, it wasn’t more serious. Yet, somehow, the dream warned my mother—before she actually knew—that Don was hurt. Some might call it a sign from God, or clairvoyance, or simply a mother’s intuition. But the dream came true.
Our Gospel reading also has a warning dream. This story of the magi in Matthew’s Gospel is framed by four strange dreams—most of which are not included in today’s lesson. Matthew begins the story of the birth of Jesus with a dream. When Joseph finds out his fiancé Mary is pregnant, he decides to cancel the engagement. Because Joseph knows he is not the real father.
Then Joseph has the first of those four dreams. An angel tells him that Mary is pregnant by the Holy Spirit, and the child will be called Jesus. It’s no coincidence that Joseph is a dreamer. Just like his namesake Joseph in the book of Genesis. You probably remember that fact from the musical, “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,” by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Joseph had many vivid dreams. Dreams foretelling the future of himself and his family in Egypt. That’s the kind of Joseph our Gospel writer has in mind. After waking from his dream, Joseph’s life changes. Joseph gets married. He names his adopted child “Jesus”—which means “God saves,” or “God rescues.” Joseph believes the promises of God despite the evil around him.
Then the magi enter this curious tale. You might notice that the Christmas story in Matthew is very different that the one in Luke. For here in Matthew, there are no shepherds, no sheep, no manger, no singing angels. Only in Matthew is Jesus born in the house where his parents live. Only in Matthew do we meet the magi, those wise foreigners with their strange predictions. Only in Matthew do we see the star that guides them. Only in Matthew, do we hear these four dreams. The second dream of the series comes to the magi at the end of today’s lesson—warning them not to return to Herod.
History tells us that Herod the Great was a wicked, paranoid king. For political reasons, he even murdered three of his own sons. The magi had reason to fear he might target them once he found out where Jesus was born. That’s what tyrants do, to maintain power. They kill religious leaders and dissidents—even journalists. For Herod feared that Jesus was God’s candidate for king of the Jews. And King Herod hated anyone who challenged his authority.
But the magi are not just dreamers. They are also subversive resisters. They defy their ruler to save an innocent child’s life, and to obey God. They wake up from their dream and go home another way. After the Magi leave, Joseph the dreamer has the third dream. An angel warns this father to flee to Egypt because Herod wants to kill his stepson Jesus—a terrifying prophecy. A dream that becomes real. For Herod sends troops to Bethlehem, who kill all the babies under the age of two.
The early Church called this event “the Massacre of the Innocents,” and created a day of remembrance on December 29. Today we would call it a mass killing. Historians argue about the number of deaths. Some say 14,000 babies were murdered. Others multiply that total by ten, to 144,000. The Catholic Encyclopedia suggests those numbers are greatly inflated—that since Bethlehem was just a tiny village, no more than twenty children were killed. But twenty is still a lot. Compare that to the three people killed on Friday by a shooter at a bowling alley in California. Or the two Guatemalan children who died last month in our detention camps—a boy and a girl who came to this country with their parents, dreaming of a safer and better life for their families. Felipe, an 8-year-old boy, died just past midnight on Christmas Day morning. The father had to call his wife in Guatemala with the tragic news. The father is still in custody. It’s a living nightmare for that family. Like them, Joseph and Mary and Jesus had to flee their country. They cross the border to Egypt, where they live for a few years. Until Joseph has the fourth and final dream. An angel tells him that King Herod has died. That now it’s safe to return to their homeland.
Not many refugees today have that kind of dream come true. In our modern world, wars often kill as many innocent adults and children as soldiers. For example, during the Vietnam War in which my brother served, at least 1.3 million died, half of them civilians. Wars and their aftermath also cause the mass emigration of individuals and families—such as the two million refugees who fled Southeast Asia to the United States after the fall of Saigon in 1975.
I believe we as Christians are called by God to dream and work for a better world for the refugees and immigrants among us. God calls us to be dreamers like the original Joseph in Egypt. Dreamers like the Joseph in this Gospel story. Dreamers like the foreign-born Magi. Whose dreams reveal a God who loves the outcast, and cares for the weakest among us. Whose dreams show us the love of mothers and fathers for their children, even in the face of danger and fear. Whose dreams speak to us today. Of a God who choses to be born as a child refugee. Of a God whose love transcends all hatred, all xenophobia, all racism embodied in our society. Of a God who became one with us in Jesus, who proclaims the reign of God in this world now. Of a God who becomes part of our human story. Who enters our pain and sorrow, our hopes and dreams. And calls us to do the same for one another. Amen.
+ + +
Matthew 2:1-12
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage." When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: "And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.' " Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.
My mother used to worry about my brother. A couple years after he joined the Army, my mom had a strange dream that scared her. She dreamed that something bad had happened to Don. A few days later, she got a phone call. It was my brother. He told her that he had dislocated a kneecap in an accident at his barracks. Thankfully, it wasn’t more serious. Yet, somehow, the dream warned my mother—before she actually knew—that Don was hurt. Some might call it a sign from God, or clairvoyance, or simply a mother’s intuition. But the dream came true.
Our Gospel reading also has a warning dream. This story of the magi in Matthew’s Gospel is framed by four strange dreams—most of which are not included in today’s lesson. Matthew begins the story of the birth of Jesus with a dream. When Joseph finds out his fiancé Mary is pregnant, he decides to cancel the engagement. Because Joseph knows he is not the real father.
Then Joseph has the first of those four dreams. An angel tells him that Mary is pregnant by the Holy Spirit, and the child will be called Jesus. It’s no coincidence that Joseph is a dreamer. Just like his namesake Joseph in the book of Genesis. You probably remember that fact from the musical, “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,” by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Joseph had many vivid dreams. Dreams foretelling the future of himself and his family in Egypt. That’s the kind of Joseph our Gospel writer has in mind. After waking from his dream, Joseph’s life changes. Joseph gets married. He names his adopted child “Jesus”—which means “God saves,” or “God rescues.” Joseph believes the promises of God despite the evil around him.
Then the magi enter this curious tale. You might notice that the Christmas story in Matthew is very different that the one in Luke. For here in Matthew, there are no shepherds, no sheep, no manger, no singing angels. Only in Matthew is Jesus born in the house where his parents live. Only in Matthew do we meet the magi, those wise foreigners with their strange predictions. Only in Matthew do we see the star that guides them. Only in Matthew, do we hear these four dreams. The second dream of the series comes to the magi at the end of today’s lesson—warning them not to return to Herod.
History tells us that Herod the Great was a wicked, paranoid king. For political reasons, he even murdered three of his own sons. The magi had reason to fear he might target them once he found out where Jesus was born. That’s what tyrants do, to maintain power. They kill religious leaders and dissidents—even journalists. For Herod feared that Jesus was God’s candidate for king of the Jews. And King Herod hated anyone who challenged his authority.
But the magi are not just dreamers. They are also subversive resisters. They defy their ruler to save an innocent child’s life, and to obey God. They wake up from their dream and go home another way. After the Magi leave, Joseph the dreamer has the third dream. An angel warns this father to flee to Egypt because Herod wants to kill his stepson Jesus—a terrifying prophecy. A dream that becomes real. For Herod sends troops to Bethlehem, who kill all the babies under the age of two.
The early Church called this event “the Massacre of the Innocents,” and created a day of remembrance on December 29. Today we would call it a mass killing. Historians argue about the number of deaths. Some say 14,000 babies were murdered. Others multiply that total by ten, to 144,000. The Catholic Encyclopedia suggests those numbers are greatly inflated—that since Bethlehem was just a tiny village, no more than twenty children were killed. But twenty is still a lot. Compare that to the three people killed on Friday by a shooter at a bowling alley in California. Or the two Guatemalan children who died last month in our detention camps—a boy and a girl who came to this country with their parents, dreaming of a safer and better life for their families. Felipe, an 8-year-old boy, died just past midnight on Christmas Day morning. The father had to call his wife in Guatemala with the tragic news. The father is still in custody. It’s a living nightmare for that family. Like them, Joseph and Mary and Jesus had to flee their country. They cross the border to Egypt, where they live for a few years. Until Joseph has the fourth and final dream. An angel tells him that King Herod has died. That now it’s safe to return to their homeland.
Not many refugees today have that kind of dream come true. In our modern world, wars often kill as many innocent adults and children as soldiers. For example, during the Vietnam War in which my brother served, at least 1.3 million died, half of them civilians. Wars and their aftermath also cause the mass emigration of individuals and families—such as the two million refugees who fled Southeast Asia to the United States after the fall of Saigon in 1975.
I believe we as Christians are called by God to dream and work for a better world for the refugees and immigrants among us. God calls us to be dreamers like the original Joseph in Egypt. Dreamers like the Joseph in this Gospel story. Dreamers like the foreign-born Magi. Whose dreams reveal a God who loves the outcast, and cares for the weakest among us. Whose dreams show us the love of mothers and fathers for their children, even in the face of danger and fear. Whose dreams speak to us today. Of a God who choses to be born as a child refugee. Of a God whose love transcends all hatred, all xenophobia, all racism embodied in our society. Of a God who became one with us in Jesus, who proclaims the reign of God in this world now. Of a God who becomes part of our human story. Who enters our pain and sorrow, our hopes and dreams. And calls us to do the same for one another. Amen.
+ + +
Matthew 2:1-12
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage." When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: "And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.' " Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.
January 27, 2019
"The Spirit of the Lord is Upon Me," based on Luke 4:14-21
(reading follows the sermon)
Jesus said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me" to proclaim release to the captives.
Last Wednesday, I attended the North Dakota Senate Judiciary Committee hearing in Bismarck on Senate Bill 2303, for prohibiting housing and employment discrimination against LGBT people. We were in a small meeting room, with six Senators, and dozens of community members. The room was packed, with people standing out in the hall. We heard impassioned testimony from courageous gay, lesbian, bisexual, and trans individuals, as well as allies. They shared fears of losing their jobs if they came out. They reported apartment leases terminated. They disclosed sexual assaults and harassment. They spoke of adult children who never will return to this state because it is unsafe for them to live and work here. They told stories of resilience and love.
I was one of two clergy who testified—the only Lutheran pastor. But it was energizing! I was proud that one of our St. Mark’s members—Emily—was also there to tell her story. And she did a great job! My testimony included a letter from our Bishop Terry Brandt, which he agreed to write in response to my request. Here’s a portion of what I read: “As Bishop of the Eastern North Dakota Synod, I believe that our church and society have a place for everyone. The call of Christ’s people today is to celebrate the diversity of God’s creative work; to embrace all people in the spirit of love, regardless of race or ethnicity, economic status, sexual orientation or gender identity; and to speak with a prophetic voice against all forms of hatred, bigotry and discrimination.” I wonder how many Lutheran bishops would dare to issue a statement like that. We are lucky to have Bishop Terry. I was honored to read his supportive words.
Jesus said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me…to proclaim…recovery of sight to the blind.”
Later that morning, we heard from those who opposed the bill. Though the number of speakers was half of those who spoke in support, some of their arguments were sobering. They seemed blind, refusing to see the need for any compassion for others in the room.
Mark Jorritsma, Executive Director of the Family Policy Alliance of North Dakota, claimed the bill would “enshrine ‘sexual orientation’ and ‘gender identify’ in the same protected classes as race and religion, and would be disastrous to [Christian] biblical values.” He argued it would allow “those people” to enter the bathrooms, locker rooms, and other private spaces of women and girls—our daughters and sisters and mothers—and put them at risk.
Later that afternoon, the committee voted 5-1for a “Do Not Pass” recommendation. The bill was presented on the Senate floor on Friday afternoon, but was defeated, 27 to 20. In response, many of us who testified or contacted legislators are disappointed and angry. It makes me wonder, what will it take to get justice? How long will our LGBTQIA community have to wait until something changes? When will Christians stop using the Bible as a weapon? When will people of faith stand up for those of us who continue to live with oppression?
Today’s Gospel reading talks about that. Jesus has come to his hometown, Nazareth. To speak to the faith community where he grew up. I imagine the synagogue that day was packed. With people standing outside, struggling to hear. With children peeking in windows, and teenagers sprawled on the floor. Jesus has to squeeze by everyone just to get to the podium. When Jesus starts to speak, the room becomes totally silent. The passage he reads from Isaiah is unexpected. Jesus says, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,… to bring good news to the poor.” Many would hear these words as a political statement.
For living under the oppression of the Roman empire, the people sitting in that synagogue would have interpreted Jesus as speaking for them. For the poor, forced to pay unreasonable taxes. For those who had family members, killed and imprisoned for protesting the government’s actions. For them, Jesus spoke words of liberation and justice. Jesus promised that God was on their side. Standing with marginalized, voiceless people in the face of a cruel and powerful regime.
Today is RIC Sunday. A day when we celebrate our standing as a Reconciling in Christ congregation. Twenty-eight years ago, St. Mark’s Lutheran voted to intentionally welcome gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender individuals, and their families. Today, I wish that we no longer needed churches like ours. But the events of the past week and the last two years—both here in North Dakota and throughout our country—speak otherwise. I wish we could remove all walls and barriers used to hide and separate LBTQ people from rest of our world. But we are not there yet. Today, many fear we are moving backward. With Supreme Court justices voting just this week to endorse a ban of transgender soldiers in our military. With local and national politicians who continue to vilify us.
Today, we truly need places like St. Mark’s. Today, we are still the only RIC Lutheran congregation in North Dakota—besides the campus ministries at NDSU and UND. Today, there are 855 RIC congregations and organizations in the United States and Canada, and 400 more that are in the process of becoming RIC. Today, I feel blessed to be able to serve you as the first openly gay, married Lutheran pastor called by a congregation in this state. Today, I believe we are still changing hearts and minds.
Jesus said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,… to let the oppressed go free.”
After the hearing at the State Capitol on Wednesday, I walked out into the hallway. There, a young man asked if he could talk to me. He thanked me for speaking, and told me he really appreciated St. Mark’s Lutheran. Especially because we provide space at our office for Harbor Health Clinic, a clinic for trans individuals. With tears in his eyes, he told me that the clinic had helped two of his friends, who he was convinced would be dead without it. And that he was so grateful to our church for being a welcoming place.
Together, this year and on this Sunday, we have a lot to celebrate. Like Jesus, we are a prophetic voice that people desperately need to hear. Like Jesus, we preach good news to those who are condemned by other Christians—telling them that our God is a God who welcomes everyone—lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, nonbinary, cisgender, and heterosexual. Like Jesus, we proclaim that our God loves us, not as a special, marginalized group to be pitied. But our God embraces each of us as beloved children, fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God.
Today, the Spirit of Jesus is here among us—healing our hurts, filling our hearts with compassion, and making us instruments of healing in this world. For, here at St. Mark’s, Jesus continues to proclaim: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,… to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor. Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." Amen.
+ + +
Luke 4:14-21
Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone. When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because [God] has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. [God] 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.” And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
Last Wednesday, I attended the North Dakota Senate Judiciary Committee hearing in Bismarck on Senate Bill 2303, for prohibiting housing and employment discrimination against LGBT people. We were in a small meeting room, with six Senators, and dozens of community members. The room was packed, with people standing out in the hall. We heard impassioned testimony from courageous gay, lesbian, bisexual, and trans individuals, as well as allies. They shared fears of losing their jobs if they came out. They reported apartment leases terminated. They disclosed sexual assaults and harassment. They spoke of adult children who never will return to this state because it is unsafe for them to live and work here. They told stories of resilience and love.
I was one of two clergy who testified—the only Lutheran pastor. But it was energizing! I was proud that one of our St. Mark’s members—Emily—was also there to tell her story. And she did a great job! My testimony included a letter from our Bishop Terry Brandt, which he agreed to write in response to my request. Here’s a portion of what I read: “As Bishop of the Eastern North Dakota Synod, I believe that our church and society have a place for everyone. The call of Christ’s people today is to celebrate the diversity of God’s creative work; to embrace all people in the spirit of love, regardless of race or ethnicity, economic status, sexual orientation or gender identity; and to speak with a prophetic voice against all forms of hatred, bigotry and discrimination.” I wonder how many Lutheran bishops would dare to issue a statement like that. We are lucky to have Bishop Terry. I was honored to read his supportive words.
Jesus said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me…to proclaim…recovery of sight to the blind.”
Later that morning, we heard from those who opposed the bill. Though the number of speakers was half of those who spoke in support, some of their arguments were sobering. They seemed blind, refusing to see the need for any compassion for others in the room.
Mark Jorritsma, Executive Director of the Family Policy Alliance of North Dakota, claimed the bill would “enshrine ‘sexual orientation’ and ‘gender identify’ in the same protected classes as race and religion, and would be disastrous to [Christian] biblical values.” He argued it would allow “those people” to enter the bathrooms, locker rooms, and other private spaces of women and girls—our daughters and sisters and mothers—and put them at risk.
Later that afternoon, the committee voted 5-1for a “Do Not Pass” recommendation. The bill was presented on the Senate floor on Friday afternoon, but was defeated, 27 to 20. In response, many of us who testified or contacted legislators are disappointed and angry. It makes me wonder, what will it take to get justice? How long will our LGBTQIA community have to wait until something changes? When will Christians stop using the Bible as a weapon? When will people of faith stand up for those of us who continue to live with oppression?
Today’s Gospel reading talks about that. Jesus has come to his hometown, Nazareth. To speak to the faith community where he grew up. I imagine the synagogue that day was packed. With people standing outside, struggling to hear. With children peeking in windows, and teenagers sprawled on the floor. Jesus has to squeeze by everyone just to get to the podium. When Jesus starts to speak, the room becomes totally silent. The passage he reads from Isaiah is unexpected. Jesus says, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,… to bring good news to the poor.” Many would hear these words as a political statement.
For living under the oppression of the Roman empire, the people sitting in that synagogue would have interpreted Jesus as speaking for them. For the poor, forced to pay unreasonable taxes. For those who had family members, killed and imprisoned for protesting the government’s actions. For them, Jesus spoke words of liberation and justice. Jesus promised that God was on their side. Standing with marginalized, voiceless people in the face of a cruel and powerful regime.
Today is RIC Sunday. A day when we celebrate our standing as a Reconciling in Christ congregation. Twenty-eight years ago, St. Mark’s Lutheran voted to intentionally welcome gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender individuals, and their families. Today, I wish that we no longer needed churches like ours. But the events of the past week and the last two years—both here in North Dakota and throughout our country—speak otherwise. I wish we could remove all walls and barriers used to hide and separate LBTQ people from rest of our world. But we are not there yet. Today, many fear we are moving backward. With Supreme Court justices voting just this week to endorse a ban of transgender soldiers in our military. With local and national politicians who continue to vilify us.
Today, we truly need places like St. Mark’s. Today, we are still the only RIC Lutheran congregation in North Dakota—besides the campus ministries at NDSU and UND. Today, there are 855 RIC congregations and organizations in the United States and Canada, and 400 more that are in the process of becoming RIC. Today, I feel blessed to be able to serve you as the first openly gay, married Lutheran pastor called by a congregation in this state. Today, I believe we are still changing hearts and minds.
Jesus said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,… to let the oppressed go free.”
After the hearing at the State Capitol on Wednesday, I walked out into the hallway. There, a young man asked if he could talk to me. He thanked me for speaking, and told me he really appreciated St. Mark’s Lutheran. Especially because we provide space at our office for Harbor Health Clinic, a clinic for trans individuals. With tears in his eyes, he told me that the clinic had helped two of his friends, who he was convinced would be dead without it. And that he was so grateful to our church for being a welcoming place.
Together, this year and on this Sunday, we have a lot to celebrate. Like Jesus, we are a prophetic voice that people desperately need to hear. Like Jesus, we preach good news to those who are condemned by other Christians—telling them that our God is a God who welcomes everyone—lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, nonbinary, cisgender, and heterosexual. Like Jesus, we proclaim that our God loves us, not as a special, marginalized group to be pitied. But our God embraces each of us as beloved children, fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God.
Today, the Spirit of Jesus is here among us—healing our hurts, filling our hearts with compassion, and making us instruments of healing in this world. For, here at St. Mark’s, Jesus continues to proclaim: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,… to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor. Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." Amen.
+ + +
Luke 4:14-21
Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone. When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because [God] has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. [God] 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.” And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”