Brief synopsis of the readings: From the Old Testament book of Nehemiah we read about Ezra the priest. He gathered “men, women, and children old enough to understand.” He read to them from the “Book of the Law” from early morning until noon. He did this on the first day of the seventh month; that day is Rosh Hashanah (New Year’s Day). After he was done a priest and a scribe spoke and told them to “eat the fat, drink the sweet wine, and send a portion to the man who has nothing prepared ready.” Luke’s Gospel describes Jesus going to the synagogue as he normally did. He was given the scroll of the prophet Isaiah and read about one who has been anointed and sent to bring good news to the poor, to liberate captives, give sight to the blind, to free the downtrodden and proclaim a year of favor.

Every year on the 4th of July journalists from National Public Radio read the entire Declaration of Independence. I never miss this and not only because I’m a shameless history buff. I listen because it brings me back to the summer of 1776 and it reminds me of how a small group of English subjects living in 13 colonies dreamed of a new nation “conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that we are all created equal” (thank you Abraham Lincoln). It also reminds me that they put not their liberties on the line, but their lives.

When Ezra read from the Book of the Law (the first five books of the Old Testament) he did the same thing. While many of us were told that the Book of the Law was written by Moses we all know that was not true. It was written by a group of exiles in Babylon who feared their identity would disappear and all that God had done for them would be lost. Ezra spoke shortly after they returned home after the exile and were struggling to understand their next chapter, rebuild their land, and go forward.

God’s liberation of the Jews from slavery, like the colonists’ liberation from oppression, places certain responsibilities on all those generations that follow. Their hard won freedom does not allow us to coast effortlessly into the future but instead requires us to periodically remember our history with gratitude and determination.

Incidents like the one in our first reading allowed the Jews to maintain their identity through several attacks on them, and allowed a young man of uncertain birth to open a scroll in the synagogue.

Last week, in John’s account of Jesus, we read how his mother literally pulled his vocation out of him at a wedding. Today, in Luke’s account, we see a different account of the start of Jesus’ ministry.

We don’t see this in today’s reading but Jesus’ attendance at the synagogue comes directly after his temptation in the desert (spoiler alert: we’ll read about that on the first Sunday of Lent). By any account this was a tough time. He ate nothing and was tempted by the devil, and (in my mind the worst of all) it appears he was alone.

By the time he returned he was a different man, a man who knew better who he was and his role going forward.

Some of you may know this, but someone who wishes to join the United States Marines endures 13 weeks of basic training. No part of the 13 weeks is easy, but near the end there’s a 57 hour marathon called “the crucible.” I need not go into the details but it’s included to insure that only the strongest will become marines. Those 57 hours test the recruit physically and mentally in ways I’m grateful I only know about from others.

Not all recruits complete this but those who do come away from this experience knowing they have what it takes. And after Jesus’ temptation in the desert he also knew who he was and where he was directed.

After reading the account from Isaiah Jesus rolled up the scroll and said: “This text is being fulfilled today even as you listen.” He didn’t acknowledge that he was the one spoken of, but he didn’t need to. All eyes were upon him.

Today we would use other words. We would say that Jesus “knew who he was” or that he “came to believe in himself,” or other modern phrase. But it doesn’t matter. We are who we are as Christians and disciples because Jesus endured the loss of what sustained his luxury and found he retained what was important.

I’d like to say that Jesus “lived happily ever after,” found disciples who believed everything and that those who opposed him came around to his truth. We all know that his story wasn’t nearly that easy. We all know that he had tough days ahead and suffered in ways that made his time in the desert look easy in comparison.

But his fulfillment on that day, in that synagogue, with that scroll gave him the strength of character to endure all that he faced.

And so do we. Our “unrolling of the scroll” reminds us that we’ve all had this experience. Maybe it was our decision to attend mass because someone asked us to. Maybe it was our answer when someone asked us to sponsor him or her in the decision to become Catholic. Maybe it was our decision (or answer) to marry a person of faith that set us on a lifelong path in a faith we hadn’t considered or even imagined.

Our crucible need not be terrifying or planned but regardless it ensures and we come out of the experience with a better understanding of who we are and what we can accomplish.

Oh yes, and next time you have the opportunity to listen to the Declaration of Independence, take it. It’s worth your while.