"What Then Shall We Do?" -- Isaiah 61:1-4; Luke 3:10-14 (5th Sunday of Easter)

Photo credit: Mohamed Nohassi, used with permission via Unsplash

To listen to the sermon, you can click here.

These days, I wish I had $1 for every time someone asked me the question: “But what can we do?” I hear that question a lot. I take it very seriously. I feel it welling up in my own bones. We ask that question a good bit here, in this community. The world feels so overwhelming these days, and our problems – so big. We can talk about them all day. We can watch the news, get educated, diagnose what’s wrong. We can write about it and post about it. We can try to think it through, reason it out, and yet – deep down, this inevitable, very human question keeps welling up:

 “But what can we do?”

I think I first noticed the question in my first weeks and months here as your pastor, as we were beginning to come to terms with the reality of climate unravelling and collapse. We’ve damaged the earth so bad that some of the impacts cannot be undone. It’s no longer a question of whether this unravelling will happen or not. It is happening. And, back then, this was a paradigm shift. I think Royce Truex so wisely encouraged us that we not move too quickly to the “What can I do?” question, but that we first absorb the magnitude of this new-to-us emerging reality – honor our grieving, continue to love this Earth – and then imagine how we might live with meaning and hope in an unravelling world. A more nuanced way to hold that question: But what can we do?

More recently, that question has continued to well up as we have watched the unimaginable suffering of the people of Gaza. We witnessed the horrors of the terrorist attack on October 7, the murder of young people and families waking up in a kibbutz. And then we have witnessed a devastating, incessant onslaught against the people of Gaza – as homes and cities have been leveled, the people driven from the land; as basic necessities like water, and food, and access to medical care have been cut off – more than 15 to 17,000 children killed.[1] The world, churches, we have done far too little, as we have sat paralyzed, with that question hanging in the air, But what can we do?

And, every day these days, this nation is teetering on the cliff’s edge of constitutional collapse. This old constitutional lawyer – I grieve daily as the government we see in action wields its power with little to no regard for the fundamental principle of equal protection of law. And with all my training and lifetime commitment to that principle, I wonder, But what can we do?

I’m saying what you already know. There is so much suffering in the world – plain and palpable – and the problems we face are so big.

And yet, this is our world. This is the world we inhabit. This the world we are created and called and sent to love and serve.

We can’t ignore this question:  But what can we do?

It is the question of our day.

And, it’s the question that wells up in this Scripture from the Gospel Luke. We’ve got two great Scriptures this morning – Luke 3 and Isaiah 61. And on this Sunday between baptisms, we should note that the Luke text is part of a baptism story. The people are coming out to John the Baptizer – to hear a Word and to be baptized into a new reality, in the midst of their own suffering world.[2]

We’ve talked about their world: It’s a world of colonization and imperial occupation – a world where soldiers walk the streets and round up and lock up all those who speak out – a world where most folks live a bare subsistence living – hoping they’ll find enough to feed their family this day, so that they might live to face the next.

And, the people have been drawn to the radical preaching of this wild prophet in the wilderness they call John the Baptizer – someone who is proclaiming something earth-shatteringly new. Now, John the Baptizer don’t play. As the scene in today’s Scripture opens, the people come out into the wilderness to find him, and he calls out, “You brood of vipers!” (John always knows the best way to start a sermon.) “You brood of vipers! Don’t you see that the axe is already at the base of the tree! Produce fruit worthy of repentance.”

People are drawn to that. They feel in their bones the need for radical change. They are baptized. And then, coming up out of the waters, they come to John the Baptizer, and they ask him – the question of their day and of ours:

Now, what then shall we do? What should we do? What can we do?

It is a question that rises up out of the waters of baptism. So now that we are baptized into this new reality... in the midst of this world of woe that we know so well: What then shall we do? – a question welling up in their world and ours.

And so by now, you may be wondering, so Scott, are you going answer the question? Bear with me – here’s a hint: Jesus has an answer for that question.

But you’ve got to hold on for a sec, because John the Baptizer answers it first. Jesus hasn’t quite shown up in the story yet... he’s about to be baptized. But in today’s Scripture – Luke 3:

·      The crowds come up out of the waters of baptism, and they ask John the Baptizer, So what then shall we do? He answers: The one of you with two tunics should give one of those to someone who has none – and you should share your food so that no one goes hungry.

·      The tax collectors come: What then shall we do? You should stop taking more than your fair wage.

·      The soldiers come: What then shall we do? Don’t use your coercive power to extort people. Stop the violence.

John the Baptizer answers plainly – as he always does: First thing is you need to stop. You need to stop your complicity in these corrupt systems of oppression – you need to relinquish your ill-gotten gain – and you need to share what you have.[3]

That’s just the start, because we have to turn the page to Chapter 4 to get the answer that Jesus brings to this question. Jesus comes into the scene, and enters into the waters of baptism with all the people, while that question is still hanging in the air. They enter into the waters, and they rise back up. And, as Chapter 4 opens, Jesus goes the synagogue, and unrolls a scroll of Scripture.

And to that question, hanging in the air: What then shall we do? Jesus responds with... Isaiah 61.[4] With the prophet before him, Jesus stands up and responds with Isaiah 61:

         The Spirit of God is upon me... God has anointed me... God is sending me...

         to bring good news to the poor,

         to bind up the brokenhearted,

         to proclaim freedom for the captives,

release for the prisoners,

         to proclaim the year of God’s favor (the forgiveness of every debt),

         to comfort all who mourn.

And here’s the thing, rising up with us out of the waters of baptism, when Jesus answers this question, he answers it for the whole Body of Christ. That’s how these words will be lived out and embodied as the Gospel rolls on into Resurrection and Pentecost. Jesus answers, The Spirit of God is upon me... The Spirit of God is upon us... God is anointing us... God is sending... us... to bring good news to the poor... to bind up the brokenhearted... to set people free. God is sending... us.

Now I printed out the text of Isaiah 61 so that we could look at it together. Notice a few things with me.

Notice that God does not send us unequipped. The very Spirit of God comes to inhabitand enliven us. With the God’s Spirit and anointing, we are empowered to be sent – and we are sent together – in the community of the Body of Christ.

Notice that there are specific assignments here – tasks. It’s clearer in the Hebrew – verb after verb – we are being sent to bring good news; to bind up and heal; to proclaim; to release, let loose, unbind, and set free; to comfort; to provide; and to bestow, to give.

Notice that this is ultimately a word to and for the vulnerable.[5] We are the ones being sent, but it is for the sake of the poor, for those who are imprisoned, for those who are oppressed, for those in need of healing, for those held in the chains of debt, for every one of us who mourns.

We are sent to bind up the broken hearted – to heal the broken-hearted. That’s at the heart of every bit of this, and we need to hear it because we live in a world full of broken hearts and of breaking hearts – and of broken spirits too. This is a Word for the world’s despair – and maybe, at times, for our own.

Notice this is a Word of healing for the most intimate, individual hurt – for the healing of our broken hearts.

Notice it is a Word for the transformation of the systems that oppress.

Notice it is a Word for the restoration of the Earth. “And they will become oaks of justice, God’s own planting for the thriving of God’s splendor. They will rebuild ruins. They will restore the places long devastated.

Notice this is a Word alive with human agency. This is not a Word where the people sit around and wait for God to come and save the day... some fay. This is a Word where God proclaims: I am sending you. I am equipping you. I am filling you with all that you need. Go bring good news. Go set people free. Go bind up the brokenhearted.

When folks ask that question, But what then shall we do? oftentimes, they are looking for a list. Give me that punchlist, that Post-It checklist.

This list is as good as any. Keep it at your bedside. Read it out loud every morning when you wake.

But, even more deeply, here’s what I think these Scriptures are saying:

In bewildering times, in the face of big challenges, and in the midst of significant suffering – what we can do, empowered by the Spirit and with each other – what we can do is the steady work that flows out of our baptism. Isaiah 61 is a worthy roadmap.

But what does that look like lived out?

Well, let me take us back just a bit. Back when the world caved in on the day after the election, do you remember? We picked up the story of Ruth and Naomi, and said that pretty much all we could do that day was to sit down on the rock with Naomi bereft and stunned. But then we acknowledged that the more privilege any of us has, the sooner we needed to get up off that rock. At the start of this year, we embraced a list of 7 spiritual practices for the start of the day, 7 spiritual practices to sustain us day by day. Do you remember? Gratitude? Breathing? Setting intentions? Engaging Scripture? No internet before 8am? Then, we spoke of Howard Thurman’s “working papers” – thinking of those things that we are created and gifted to do, big and small. We turned to 1 Corinthians 13 – “Love is patient; love is kind...” and we grounded ourselves in all those boring virtues – in the love that never fails. And we spoke of the need to be humble and bold – humble in acknowledging the role we have played in wrecking the world, and bold to pick up the tasks of resisting and rebuilding. Do you remember?

That was February. What has all that looked like... lived out?

We know that with climate unravelling, the displacement of people will only increase, and we know that our nation has become increasingly unwelcoming to those who are displaced. We are finishing up our work on a guest room in this church where a displaced family might find shelter. We have been about this steady work for a couple years now – learning and planning and finding partners – and for the past few months that steady work has been embodied by hammering nails and painting walls. Next Sunday, Michelle Fouts is going to come during worship and tell us what we can do to support the next steps in this project.

In the past few weeks, Peter Anderson has introduced the Church and Society team to Sandra Killen, who has been serving as a trauma nurse in Gaza. She has challenged us with the truth that the world and churches, including us, are not doing enough to get the word out and expose the atrocities that continue in Gaza. In just a bit, Peter will come and tell you about a June 8 event that will be hosted here where we and the broader community will be able to hear Sandra’s eyewitness testimony. This coming week, our Session will be considering an overture – a motion – to send to our denomination’s General Assembly, asking our denomination to name the violations of international law in Gaza as genocide – in the hopes of inviting conversation, learning and awareness, at every level of the church, and in the world.

And there are those thousands of postcards to voters,

food placed in the community fridge, or the food barrel,

all that generous giving,

our deepening partnership with our neighbors in Marin City,

particularly through Come to the Table,

and speaking up at Board of Supervisors hearings,

there are the acts of tender mercy we extend to each other

and the broader community to get us through difficult times.

What then shall we do? No one person is going to swoop in and set all things right. But whether we have noticed it or not, the Spirit has been on the move – is on the move – in us, and in so many others all around the world, in the steady work that flows out from our baptism – just like the Spirit always has.

On Friday, I had the blessing and joy to preach the Baccalaureate service at the Seminary as we celebrated the graduating class. I said something to them that I want to say to you – to us:

You have been called to bless this world since before you were born. God has created you “you” to love and serve this world in a way that only you can do. ...You are ready – and you are being sent – into this hurting world.

And even so, as we live into the fullness of this bewildering world, that question will always be before us – because the hurting of the world is real – what then shall we do?

Go, bind up the brokenhearted; help heal the hurt.

Go, proclaim some good news – the world needs it – go proclaim some good news for the poor and the marginalized and the vulnerable.

Go, help set free all those who are bound up.

Go, comfort those who mourn and hurt – not just with words of sympathy, but with the hard work of transforming and liberating the systems that oppress.

The Spirit is upon us. God has anointed us. And in those moments when we come face to face with the suffering of this world – with the Spirit’s wisdom and compassion –

we will continue to figure out what to do together.

© 2025 Scott Clark

[1] https://www.unicef.org/press-releases/least-322-children-reportedly-killed-gaza-strip-following-breakdown-ceasefire

[2] For general background on this text and the Gospel of Luke, see R. Alan Culpepper, “The Gospel of Luke,” New Interpreters’ Bible Commentary, vol. ix (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1995); Justo L. González, Luke (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010); Sharon Ringe, Luke (Louisville, KY:  Westminster John Knox Press, 1995); Luke Powery, Commentary on Working Preacher at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/jesus-baptism/commentary-on-luke-31-22-2

[3] See Culpepper, p. 84; Ringe, p.53.

[4] For general background on this text see Walter Brueggemann, Isaiah 40-66 (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998), pp.317-20; Casey Thornburgh Sigmon, Commentary on Working Preacher at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/spirit-of-the-lord-upon-me-2/commentary-on-isaiah-611-11-3

[5] See Casey Thornburgh Sigmon, supra.