Faith Works 5-30-20
Jeff Gill
Pentecost and the idea of Jubilee
___
With this Sunday the end of Eastertide in many Christian churches, and that festival for even more being Pentecost, there are many who can see the roots of that name, pentagon and pentathlon and the concept of five or in this case fifty.
Pentecost marks, actually, 49 days after Easter Sunday, and in England "Whit Monday" is a holiday as it is in much of Europe; the whole period inclusive of Easter to Pentecost is fifty days, itself an echo of a pattern of seven weeks and fifty day periods in the ancient rabbinic calendar of Israel.
And behind those sets of fifty day periods in the year, is a tradition witnessed in the Torah and Writings of Hebrew Scripture, the Christian Old Testament, of seven times seven years, forty-nine of them, being followed by a Year of Jubilee.
One of the hints of this idea in ancient Israel is also on America's Liberty Bell, where on one of the bands is the citation Leviticus 25:10, "proclaim liberty throughout the land to all the inhabitants thereof." Because that's what a Jubilee in principle was, a time of freedom and release.
Biblical scholars still debate this, but there's more evidence of the idea of a Year of Jubilee than there is that one ever happened, and sadly you can see why. The cycle of seven days with a Sabbath for rest, seven weeks and a feast or celebration or observance like Pentecost, and then the seven years times seven was a culmination of these cycles believed built into creation for our good, for the blessings of humanity and all the earth – to cancel debt, to release slaves, to set free peoples. Even the land would be "freed" in a Jubilee year, with no planting or harvest. With the trumpet blast on the shofar, the ram's horn, the "jubilee" sound would tell everyone in God's realm that freedom would reign, and secular matters would be reset, from the highest rulers to the lowliest people.
In the ancient and medieval world, this was not as exotic an idea as you might think. It was common when a king or queen would die for prisoners to be released and commercial debts to be canceled, a dramatic sign of transition and reaffirmation of divine providence. A jubilee of sorts.
This year, as Pentecost and the Sundays after it come, we are leaving behind a strange sort of jubilee – stimulus checks in the mail, jobs lost and found, closures resulting in bankruptcies and permanent shutdowns, and at home and personally, many are finding this has been a season for reassessment. What do we really need or use, first in the fridge and freezer, then in the pantry, and onwards into closets and cupboards and even basements.
In no way do I want to minimize the disruption and pain many have experienced since mid-March. It's been a very hard time, and I'm painfully aware of that myself. But the reason even ancient Israel never observed the intriguing concept of a Jubilee Year is likely because it's a painful path to seek blessing, and it would take strength and commitment on the part of rulers to stay the course – canceling debt, freeing prisoners, resting the land and living off of the built up reserve. The pain would not, as it has not, fall evenly across the people. The pressure to get back to "normal" was and is strong.
Yet I look at much of the winnowing and sifting that's been happening, and is still going to occur, all around us. Quite a few businesses closing or declaring bankruptcy were on the way out already, this just sped the day. There are going to be churches and charities that will not survive, but I doubt it will be just because of the coronavirus restrictions alone. Camps and ministry programs will end with the blame put on COVID-19, but was that really the whole story?
The truth is we need a Sabbath, and not just each week. We need those pauses in our lives that give us time and space to reassess, and not just to clean out closets. And if we don't choose to take them, the cosmos and the Creator has ways of imposing on us that discipline, in hopes that we will ultimately choose to rest, and reflect, and renew.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County; he's not always good at resting himself, but God has a way. Tell him about how the Lord blows a horn and a halt for you sometimes at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
