WHEN I ask people to read in worship, I advise them to prepare by reading the passage beforehand, familiarising themselves with its meaning, so as to communicate it effectively. Reading in worship is a privilege, and the office of Reader has been important in the Church since early times; it requires faith, knowledge of scripture, an ability to communicate, and — crucially — commitment in participating in the ministry of the word.
It looks, at first, as if this Gospel passage gives us little information about the context of events in the Nazareth synagogue. True, Jesus is asked to read: but was he expected to follow some scheme? How was that reading for the day chosen? And was it Jesus himself, or someone else, who made the selection?
Scholarship can be a blessing to Christians when we encounter the unfamiliar like this. We can learn details from Jewish practice which we might not otherwise know — for example, that this is the earliest surviving description of a synagogue service. And that later Jewish sources confirm the details that Luke has supplied, like the “synagogue leader” (Jairus, 8.41), alongside the “assistant” who is referred to here, in verse 20.
A reading from one of the prophets was called a “haftarah”, and it would take place after the reading from the Law (Torah). This resembles the Christian practice of ordering lections historically at the eucharist (Old Testament before New Testament), as well as theologically (the Gospel being always the final eucharistic reading). In the Jewish arrangement, though, the most important lection — from the Law — comes first, not last.
Alongside these historical glimpses, another kind of evidence is being laid out, as Luke emphasises how much Jesus is in control of what unfolds. He is the agent of every action: he is “filled with the power of the Spirit”; he begins to teach. When he attends his synagogue, where he is a regular member of the congregation, he stands up to read — though there is no mention of whether it was his turn, or his job. The fact that he unrolls the scroll and looks for that particular passage of Isaiah could imply that he is choosing it, for himself. We should remark the fact that Jesus can read, too; for in those days most scriptural learning (of which he demonstrates his knowledge throughout his ministry) would have been oral, not written.
Though we do not know the season or the year, time plays an important part in the story. The Isaiah proclamation is not the very next thing in his ministry to happen after his baptism. Instead, he begins to teach in different synagogues before he returns home to Nazareth. Yet, Jesus declares, it is a day of fulfilment; so why that trivial reference to teaching “in their synagogues”?
Luke takes the trouble to point out that Nazareth is where Jesus has grown up, which tells me that the people there think they already know him. That suggests a significance about his revealing his identity as God’s anointed (through the reading of Isaiah 61) among those who think that they know him, but in fact do not.
That pattern is repeated over and over in the experience of Christians to this day. People who think that they know who Jesus is, and what he means, come to discover him afresh for themselves, through personal encounter with him as Christ. Just as he himself is both “just” a young man from Nazareth and God’s chosen one, so a new identity, a new way of being, awaits those to whom — for whom — he has been sent. The poor will hear good news in place of bad. Prisoners will find freedom. The blind will gain their sight. Oppression will make way for liberation.
The last words of the reading, after all these particulars, carry a universal message: “to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour”. Jesus (or Luke?) omits the mention of a day of vengeance, which concluded the original passage in Isaiah. This leaves the message as one of pure joy, proclaiming to those who know the promises of scripture (Leviticus 25) a time of rest, restoration, liberation, and redemption.
The most important realisation in the Gospel lies in what Jesus does not say. There is no concluding reveal: “And I am he.” Jesus lets each of us work that out for ourselves, as he has done since the beginning.