Sermon-of-the-Month for February, 2007
HOMECOMING
Text: Luke 4:14-30
14 Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. 15 He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.
16 When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, 17 and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:
18 "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
19 to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."
20 And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. 21 Then he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." 22 All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, "Is not this Joseph's son?" 23 He said to them, "Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, 'Doctor, cure yourself!' And you will say, 'Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.' " 24 And he said, "Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet's hometown. 25 But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; 26 yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. 27 There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian." 28 When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. 29 They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. 30 But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.
* * * * * *
Yes, I was there that day in Nazareth. It was a long time ago, but my soul is still troubled when I revisit in my memories that day in the synagogue that started out so sunny and bright. Now let me make one thing perfectly clear: I was not part of the angry crowd that drove Jesus to the edge of the cliff and almost ended his lifework there. No, I was as enraged as the others, but I just couldn't harm the son of my good friend Joseph. I had seen him grow up to be a promising young man... talked with him as he worked alongside his father in Joseph's woodshop... why Jesus even hand-finished that beautiful cabinet of the finest cherry that graces our main room.
I could never let my anger turn to violence against Jesus. But to my everlasting shame, I confess that I didn't have the courage to confront that fierce group that was set to hurl him to his death. I was there on the edge of things, dealing with a confusing mixture of rage at Jesus and horror at what was about to happen. I was much relieved when, at the last minute, with some power of presence I guess, Jesus walked through these glaring faces and out of town. But my shame lingers, both at my cowardice... and now, some years later, at my ignorance that day of what Jesus was trying to tell us.
It started out, as I say, as a glorious homecoming. We had all heard that Joseph's son was making a name for himself throughout the countryside. We were told of his exciting, authoritative teaching, so unlike our teachers of the law; stories of miraculous healings were circulating all through Galilee, wherever Jesus had visited. We knew he'd soon get to Nazareth - and we couldn't wait! This is not a village of great renown, some speak of Nazareth with contempt or cruel humor. How thrilling to finally see some local pride animating my townsfolk: "That's our boy they're all talking about; if you think he's doing marvelous things over in Capernaum - wait till he gets here with his own people!"
There was a real buzz as folks made their way to the synagogue that Sabbath day, and a palpable silence as he stood up and opened the scroll of scripture. Isaiah it was he read. "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me... " - and we knew it was true; God had anointed Jesus with a special power and presence. Our Jesus of Nazareth! He read of bringing good news to the poor ¬- and we've got plenty of folks struggle just to get by. He read of release to the captive - and I thought of all the people I know here who live in chains, imprisoned by their own destructive habits or the malicious power of others. Sight to the blind... freedom for the oppressed... the favor of the Lord: Yes - we needed all of that so desperately right there in Nazareth. We stood up and cheered, right there in that formal, sedate old synagogue; even our rabbi was smiling.
And then... it was like a dark black cloud rolled in suddenly and blocked out the bright sunshine streaming into the synagogue that morning. We were waiting for Jesus to acknowledge our admiration and pride - to captivate us with his insightful teaching and to begin performing those mighty works of healing here. Doctor, there's a lot of healing that needs to be done right here in your hometown. But instead, he seemed to turn on us... at least that's the way it felt that morning. He knew exactly how we were feeling and what we were expecting. He spoke the very words that were almost on our lips: "Do here in your hometown the exciting things we heard you did in Capernaum." And then he spoke about prophets being rejected by the community in which they grew up.
There was a kind of confusion and alarm at his response to our support and admiration. Was he implying that we weren't good enough to receive his powerful works and words... we who had seen him grow through the innocent years of childhood and the awkward years of adolescence to the promise of young manhood? Then the confusion and alarm turned to outright rage after he reminded us that our great prophets, Elijah and Elisha, who brought God's blessings to outsiders, Syrians and Sidonese, when there was plenty of need right there in Israel among the prophet's own people. We got the message loud and clear: don't expect any special exclusive privileges... don't presume you're going to be at the top of my list. Never have I seen an adoring, awestruck crowd turn so quickly into an ugly throng bent on doing away with this ungrateful son? Well, what would you have done that day?
As I said, I never joined the brutal mob forcing Jesus toward the cliff. I just stood there on the outskirts, angry at Jesus and appalled at the murderous intent of my fellow townspeople... my friends and neighbors. What in the world was happening to us?
With the passing of time, I think I've come to understand more deeply. We had allowed out local pride to turn into an attitude of possessiveness. We presumed upon God's blessing, thinking that because he came from among, he belonged to us more exclusively than to others. And frankly, there was deep resentment that our Jesus had taken God;s favor to others, especially that he had done great works in Capernaum, where much of the town isn't even Jewish. No wonder the hostility was so intense. We were too small-minded... and our assumptions about God's love and mercy were too small minded. We assumed ":people like us" had a priority claim on God's grace... we assumed that we "insiders" should be taken care of before any outsiders... we assumed that God's blessing begins at home.
That's what Jesus could see so clearly in our adoration and pride. Smallness... a fixation on the local and the familiar. We drew our circle too tight and too small for the God that Jesus was bringing to all people. We should have known better - it was right there in our scriptures; we were blinded by our provincialism.
Jesus slipped away unscathed that day and I've followed his activities and travels these past several years. He has continued to amaze people with his works of God's grace, and a growing throng follows him around from town to town. But I wonder if they really understand his message about God's expansive love? Do they understand this radical word about "good news to the poor"... "release to the captives"... "sight to the blind" ... and "liberation for the oppressed"? Will praise and adoration once again turn to rejection and ugly violence? I worry... I worry about this one I've come to see as God's gift to all the wounded people of the world.
I just got word today that Jesus is heading toward Jerusalem amid much enthusiasm. And I worry... I worry.
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