Sermon for the Eve of the Feast of St. Luke
“Then opened he their understanding,
that they might understand the Scriptures”
The Collect for the Feast of St. Luke identifies him as an Evangelist and a Physician of the soul. Paul’s Epistle from 2nd Timothy says that only Luke is with me but also refers to “books” and “parchments”, two forms of written media through which ideas are conveyed, namely, the codex and the scroll. The Gospel from the last chapter of Luke’s Gospel reminds us of Luke’s interest and focus on Christ’s opening out to us the Scriptures for our understanding. It is a theme which is especially prominent in the season of the Passion and the Resurrection of Christ and in the readings from Luke in those seasons.
The image of Luke as a Physician of the soul is most apt. For most of the long Trinity Season, Luke is we might say the Church’s spiritual director and there is an intriguing and important feature to Luke’s writings, both his Gospel and the Book of the Acts of the Apostles attributed to him. That feature is wonderfully captured in the epithet which Dante uses for St. Luke, calling him appropriately enough, “scriba mansuetudinis Christi”, ‘the scribe of the gentleness of Christ’. It is I think an important insight into the character of his writing.
There is a quality of gentleness to the way in which Luke pictures Christ in his encounters with our humanity. It is not by accident that Luke is both the patron saint of doctors and artists, particularly painters. No one provides more compelling and vivid pictures of the Passion than St. Luke. Think of the power of his depiction of the Agony in Gethsemane and the way in which Luke reveals to us something of the inner turmoil and conflict in the soul of Christ, “on the night in which he was betrayed”. And, perhaps, even more there is the powerful scene of Peter’s betrayal. In Luke’s vivid account, “the Lord turned and looked upon Peter”. That look was enough to remind him of what Jesus had said about Peter denying Jesus three times. “And Peter went out, and wept bitterly.” It is a masterful and powerful moment, a picture of firm gentleness. Sometimes a look is more effective that spoken words. But what kind of look? A look of gentle compassion and understanding for the human condition, for the individual. A look that recalls us to truth, even through our tears.
