January 28th, 2007
"Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in the synagogues and was praised by everyone." That is Luke chapter four, verse fourteen, and it’s the prelude to the story we hear this morning. For whatever reason, the lectionary folks have split the one story of Jesus’ return to his home town of Nazareth into two parts; the first we heard last Sunday, the second half we hear this morning. But it’s one story: Jesus comes back to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and goes to the synagogue on the Sabbath. He is given the privilege of reading the Holy Scriptures, and the portion he is given to read is from the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah says, “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, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Then Jesus tells everyone – and they all have their eyes fixed on him, we are told – that ‘today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.’ That is, he is no longer merely quoting Isaiah the prophet, but Jesus is proclaiming himself the anointed one – the Messiah, the Christ – who will fulfill the tasks given him by God. And further, we’re told that the congregation ‘spoke well of him;’ they were ‘amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.’ They marveled that this boy they had known – isn’t he Joseph’s kid? – is now standing before them with an announcement like this.
If we stop there and look at the first part of this story, there are some interesting things to note. What strikes me is that Jesus proclaims himself the anointed one in this story. Many other places in the gospels, Jesus avoids doing this himself, but his disciples, followers, or others make this claim about him. I wonder why he did it in this particular context - his hometown, of all places. Also, I wonder at the description of Jesus’ words as ‘gracious;’ that strikes me as rather curious. What was gracious about his words, if what he was doing was proclaiming himself the prophet sent by God? Unless there were other words Jesus spoke at that visit to that place that are not recorded in the gospel. Which is entirely possible. Also, this is when that prelude verse that I started with matters – that by the time Jesus got there, to Nazareth, he already had a growing reputation. Perhaps people wanted to see for themselves the person they knew – Joseph’s son, no less – and observe whether he was any different than the last time they saw him. We can’t know for sure. What we can know is that, for no discernible reason, things take a negative turn. There’s nothing to point to in the story we have for Jesus to quote the two proverbs at them that he does, but there he goes. “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ Okay. Hard to see where that comes from, but there it is. And Jesus doesn’t stop there. He goes on to tell those gathered ‘And you will say, ‘Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.’ Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s hometown.” Now, in other gospels, when Jesus returns to his hometown of Nazareth, though he has gotten a reputation as one who heals the sick and does miracles, the gospel tells us that there, in Nazareth, he could do very little. Here, we don’t even know that they asked him to do anything. It looks like he’s merely anticipating that they will.
Now, it seems to me that Jesus is already on thin ice with the congregation - given that he has, with little or no provocation, said some things that could offend. But then it gets worse. Jesus uses two examples to make a point. He has referenced Capernaum, a place he has been and a place where some of his reputation has been made. And he goes on to remind the assembly of a couple of biblical examples of prophets. One about Elijah, and one about Elisha. The stories that he references are interesting. And what they have in common is that the prophets are sent to those who are outside of the tradition – outside of their tradition. Of all the people that God could have sent them to help, Jesus is saying, Elijah was sent to a widow who was not one of their people. Same with Elisha – he heals a man named Namaan, a foreigner, who had leprosy, and that experience brings Namaan to believe in the God of Israel. Now, Capernaum was known to be a place that was diverse, religiously and ethnically speaking. There was a large population there of people who were not believers in the God of Israel. Outsiders, then, to the people in Nazareth to whom Jesus was speaking. This is what, in the end, enrages them. They feel as if have been insulted by Jesus, for one thing: why them – those in Capernaum - and not us? And they have also gotten the news – not necessarily sounding like good news to them – that Jesus, if he is the prophet, the anointed one, is sent to the people of Israel, yes, but also beyond the people of Israel. Jesus is sent to more than just those in church listening to him in that setting. They don’t appreciate this perceived insult, and in response they want to hurl him off a cliff.
Being a prophet of God is fraught with peril, is one message that we get here. Which is why Jeremiah isn’t so sure he wants the honor, in the first reading we heard. And God’s words of what is meant to be reassurance have an ominous ring to them, if you ask me. Listen to this: “You shall go to all to whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, says the LORD. Now I have put my words in your mouth. See, today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms, to pluck up and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.” The building and planting sounds okay, but the destroying and overthrowing? The plucking up and pulling down? Sounds like work that will make some enemies. And ‘do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you’ – great that God will be there, but clearly the prophet will be saying what the people don’t want to hear, or Jeremiah wouldn’t have to be afraid of them. So Jesus is in a long line of prophets who proclaim a message that does not sound like good news to at least some of those that hear it. Those who do not like the message can get angry, and that anger can lead to bodily harm to said prophet. Even early in Luke’s gospel, early in his ministry, Jesus is controversial. This won’t be the last time he ticks people off, of course. Consider this to be a bit of foreshadowing.
So. There is more to this story which we need to consider. For one thing, what of the message that Jesus is sending? It seems to me that’s what we need to pay attention to. Jesus references these two stories from first and second Kings, his holy Scriptures from the Hebrew Bible, and makes his point: that he, the prophet of God, even the Anointed One, will go to whoever God sends him. And it won’t be only to those already in the fold. It will be those considered outsiders, and that’s where he will do much of his work. Now we at St. George’s tend to hear this as the good news it is intended to be: many of us have felt like or been considered outsiders from the church – the big C church, not this one – and we have been glad to find St. George’s as a welcoming home. We like to think of ourselves as that circle ever wider, the place where all are welcome. And we are; you all do a good job with that. But there is a challenge here for us as well, and that’s what I think we need to take note of this morning. Once we get here, and we are welcomed in, we aren’t the outsiders anymore. We’ve become the insiders, and we have a particular task to do, as Jesus models for us. That is to invite others in. That is to share the good news that we are this welcoming place for all people. That’s our job. That’s our calling.
Our presiding bishop Katharine Jefferts Schiori addressed this in her letter from January’s Episcopal Life. I’ve been thinking about her words, and I want to share some of them with you this morning, on this theme that we have been working. Her challenge is for us to think about the language we use when talking about our faith. How is our language uninviting to outsiders, is the question she asks. And its flip side: how might we make our language more inviting? She reminds us that “If we are going to be effective in reaching out to those beyond our walls, we are going to have to learn new language and ways of telling our story,” and that we have to “speak good news in language and forms that people uneducated in Christianity” – and I would add, those who have been hurt by other Christians or other Christian churches - “can understand and welcome.” For as our new presiding bishop points out, “If our language engenders fear, it is likely to drive people away. If it welcomes and invites, the possibility can be quite different.” She’s asking us to do a couple of things. One is to give more consideration to the language we use to talk about our faith, and think about the words we use. She points out that the Episcopal church is good at using language that is only understandable to insiders – though not even to all of those who are already here! Narthex, there’s a good example. Sexton, that’s another good one. (The sexton is the word the Episcopal church uses for janitor, and the narthex is the ‘enclosed passage between the main entrance and the worship space of the church.’) It’s just a small example, but this casual use of language that may be hard for those unfamiliar with the Episcopal tradition to understand can be a barrier to those who are new or who don’t have a background in the church, that’s her point. Therefore, it is our responsibility to think about how to communicate our message in language that those we want to reach can understand, language that invites people in. Undergirding this responsibility is also the other, and related, evangelistic point that our presiding bishop is making: that is is our responsibility – the calling – for each of us to actually share the message and invite people to come to St. George’s. We have a good thing going here, I bet most if not all of you would agree with that. And if you believe it to be this great thing, then why wouldn’t you want to share it with others? Not in a scary ‘believe what I believe or you’re going to hell’ kind of way – which, despite recent evidence to the contrary, is NOT the Episcopal way - but in a much more inviting, ‘this is a wonderful community you’d probably like’ way.
Remember, once we’re here, we are no longer the outsiders. We’re the insiders. But Jesus reminds us, with his words and his actions, that his mission and ministry will always include those who are not yet here. That’s what got him in trouble when he went back to Nazareth. This message did not sound like good news to those in his hometown. But it is good news. It’s just good news with a challenge in it for us. At St. George’s we talk about a ‘circle ever wider.’ So our job is to do the work of widening the circle, by inviting others, and by finding new ways to tell our story.
Amen.