God of love, may you send us to places where we might not want to go and give us courage to speak your love, no matter what. Amen.
Imagine
coming home after being away for a long time. Maybe you’re hoping for a loving
greeting, maybe someone to be waiting for you on the Hug Rug at the airport,
maybe even a welcome home party. Instead, all you get is rejection and
disbelief at how you’re nothing like who you should be or were expected to be
and are breaking every cultural rule in the book. You’ve been shunned from your
home community. Just imagine what that would feel like. That’s what’s happening
to Jesus in today’s gospel reading.
We
don’t really know anything about Jesus’ formative years. The bible doesn’t give
us much since the party with the wise men except for a brief story about how he
sat with religious leaders, peppering them with questions. However, based on a
handful of clues, It’s safe to assume that Mary and Joseph were devout Jews who
trusted in God’s plan and provision, and that Jesus would have been the
beneficiary of such a faithful rearing.
We
hear nothing else about Jesus until he shows up around 30 years old, gathers a
bunch of guys together, and starts his mobile ministry. Jesus and his crew have
been travelling all around, telling people about God, preaching about the kingdom,
performing miracles, and healing the people. And even though Jesus continues asking
people to keep it to themselves, the stories have gotten out, and they’ve
surely gotten back to his hometown of Nazareth.
Now,
I don’t think Jesus knows this is the case for sure, and when he sees that
Nazareth is coming up on their touring schedule, I bet he was pretty excited.
He would be seeing his family for the first time in what probably feels like
forever and having a nice, home-cooked meal. He’d be able to put his feet up and
rest in a place he grew up in, maybe hang out with his buddies from school. And
after all the times he was run out of town because of loud non-believers during
his travels, the one place he thought he’d be able to relax a little would be his
hometown of Nazareth.
Invited
by the local rabbi to preach at the synagogue, Jesus steps up to the podium and
teaches what he has been teaching this whole time, feeling at ease in front of
these folks who have known him since birth and watched him grow up. Here, he
thought, no one will chide me for the words I say and the actions I’ve done.
Boy
was he wrong.
These
people who have known Jesus since he was diapers, who had helped Mary and
Jospeh raise Jesus, as any good village would do, are suddenly wary of him. They
weren’t surprised that he was talking about the scriptures. He was in town
visiting his mother and it was only natural for him to get up and speak about
the scriptures. Any man from the age of 13 was expected to take part in the
discussion.
But
it was how he spoke about them, how he spoke with such authority, that really
threw this crowd. This boy from Nazareth, a boy who had grown up right here and
whose family they all knew. This kind of wisdom couldn’t come from a man they
were acquainted with! The crowd asked, “who does this guy think he is, telling us
how to live, how to believe?”
That
day in the synagogue, the people of Nazareth had quite an opportunity. They
could have opened their minds and hearts. They could have believed that nothing
shall be impossible with God. They could have accepted that God was at work,
right there in Nazareth, in the person of this man, Jesus, whom they knew so
well, even though he was just a boy from Nazareth.
But
instead, they rejected him. They took offense at him. They closed their hearts
and their minds and ran him out of town, just like all of the other non-believers
Jesus and his followers came across throughout their journey. Jesus’ community rejects
him because they know him, because “how can this guy from down the street be a
prophet sent by God?” “Then Jesus said to them, ‘Prophets are not without
honor, except in their hometown and among their own kin and in their own house.’”
Jesus
has been shunned from his home community. Just imagine what that must have felt
like.
Now
Jesus could have gotten upset at his family and friends. He could have yelled
at them, told them how sad he was that Nazareth should have been the one place
he could just be himself without repercussion. He could have been disappointed
that the one place that should have been restful for him became just another place
of hate and distrust.
And
maybe he did feel all those things. We don’t know. What we do know is that he
turned these events into a lesson for his disciples. (Because I’m sure what
they wanted was another lesson.)
Jesus
gathered his 12 disciples up and told them to go out in pairs (it’s never safe
to travel without a buddy) and spread the gospel, giving them “authority over
the unclean spirits.” But he sent them with a warning – not everyone will
accept you, listen to you, or want you around, maybe not even in your hometowns.
The important thing was to not go in power and pretense. No fancy clothes,
weapons, nor support teams. In fact, nothing logistical at all. Not a church growth strategy nor mission
statement in sight. A simple instruction to be with people in vulnerable simplicity,
to always be present in the current conversation, being gracious for any
hospitality that you receive, and if you are rejected or someone wants to argue
with you, shake it off and keep moving.
They
did, and the kingdom grew and grew.
These
two stories, the story of Jesus’ rejection in Nazareth and his subsequent
sending of the 12 disciples, are meant to remind us that we also have a role to
play. We are taught over and over that we are justified by faith alone. But
what if God’s work also needs us to take some initiative? To take some action?
People
expect their encounter with the Divine to be magical or majestic. But for the folks
of Nazareth, Jesus was just the guy down the street. What does this say about
where we find God in our lives? What does this say about how we tell others
about Jesus? Can we understand that we are also called to spread the Gospel, just
as the 12 were?
In
our own neighbourhoods and hometowns, we are the people down the street, we are
the ones people know, who grew up with us, who maybe helped raise us (as neighbourhoods
and town tend to do). And yet these are the people with whom we have the
hardest time talking about our faith in Jesus, about our trust that God loves
us, and about why we believe in all of it. The people with whom we feel the
safest are the ones with whom we have the hardest time being open about our
faith.
Here
is a short story about a friend of mine, whom I’ve asked permission to share
with you. I’ve changed the names out of respect.
Dave
was walking with a friend of his, Kyle, and as they were walking, Kyle asked Dave
to pray for his as they walked. So, Dave prayed honestly and truly, but also silently
in his head for his friend. When they arrived at their destination, Kyle asked Dave
again, “Will you pray for me?” to which Dave said, “I just did!”. It was a
missed opportunity to be vocal in prayer and sharing out loud what it means to
have love and faith in Jesus.
We
should never be afraid to talk about our faith, out loud and with others. If
someone asks you, “why do you believe in God?” don’t hesitate to give a
heart-felt and truthful answer. You are called to spread the good news that God
loves us all and that the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ has
brought us closer to the kingdom of God than we could possibly imagine.
Might
you be ridiculed for your belief in God and your faith in Jesus? Perhaps. But as
Taylor Swift says, the haters are gonna hate and we just need to shake it off.
Amen.
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