When Jesus came to Nazareth, those who lived in his hometown expected something really special.
Luke 4:14-30
as interpreted by Deborah
Then Jesus, filled with the Holy Spirit, went back to Galilee, and news about him spread all through the countryside. He started teaching in the synagogues, and was praised by all who heard him.
When he came to Nazareth, where he was raised, Jesus went to the synagogue on Saturday, as usual. When he stood up to read, they handed him the text of the prophet Isaiah. He looked at it and found the place that said: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. God has sent me to proclaim freedom to the imprisoned and restored sight to the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's grace and mercy."
He handed the text back to the assistant, and sat down. Everyone in the synagogue was watching him.
Then he said, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled.”
Everyone was impressed at his poise and confidence, and were astonished by the wise things he said. They asked one another, “Can this be Joseph's son?”
He said, “Undoubtedly you’ll quote the proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ and tell me, ‘Do the same wonderful things you did in Capernaum here.’”
“But I’m telling you: no prophet is recognized in his hometown. Think about it: there were tons of widows in Israel in Elijah’s time — when no rain fell for over three years, and there was a terrible famine across the land; yet Elijah wasn’t sent to them, but to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon.
“And you know there were plenty of lepers in Israel when the prophet Elisha was around, yet none of them was cleansed — only Naaman the Syrian.”
Upon hearing this, everyone in the synagogue was outraged.
They chased him out of town, and toward the crest of the hill on which Nazareth was built, intending to throw him off the cliff.
But he walked right through the middle of the crowd and continued on his way.
This week’s gospel passage has always confused me. After initially being astonished and delighted by Jesus’ words, the people suddenly become enraged — so angry that they intended to throw him off a cliff! Yet the only apparent reason for their anger was his mention of holy miracles done by prophets in ages past.
That seems nonsensical. The Lord is simply citing well-known stories from the Hebrew scriptures in which God brought forth blessings for those in need. In the first a widow’s only child is restored to life, in the second the general of an army is healed of leprosy (1 Kg 17:8-24; 2 Kg 5:1-19).
What’s not to like? Surely such powerful testimonies to the Beloved’s power and compassion should inspire us to gratitude and hope, not violent hatred.
Perhaps it was the recipients of the miracles that brought about such a hostile reaction. In both of the Lord’s examples it was not Israelites but “foreigners” who were blessed: a woman from Sidon and an Aramean man. It was “upon hearing this” that the people went ballistic and chased Jesus out of the synagogue.
Why did this statement make them angry? Did the folks in the synagogue begrudge miracles to those of other countries and tribes? Did they fear that there was a limited number of available miracles — that the Creator would run out power — and believe that the divine energy should be reserved exclusively for the Chosen People? Did the very mention of God’s loving concern for other tribes and peoples make them crazy with jealousy?
Or were they irate because they felt they were being cheated out of the opportunity to show off?
The people’s response to Jesus’ words was extreme — to say the least. It far exceeded a normal reaction to disappointment and certainly does not reflect any sense of sorrow or regret. No one prays for a healing or a pleads for a blessing for a loved one, no one asks the Lord to reconsider. No one praises God for surprising graces.
Instead, the whole assembly rises up — overcome by an unreasonable, irrational, blood-thirsty anger: “How dare you say such a thing!” If they can’t get what they want from the Lord, they will kill him.
Few things ignite our anger more powerfully than a slap to our pride.
And that, I believe, is the cause of their murderous rage.
Jesus’ reputation had preceded him. Before returning to Nazareth he had been preaching and teaching throughout Galilee. He had assembled a small cadre of disciples. He had healed the sick, fed the hungry, cast out demons, and brought hope and peace to those whose hearts were heavy. This local boy was making a name for himself and for the town where he was born.
Maybe the people of Nazareth more interested in what Jesus could do for them than in who Jesus was. Perhaps they were more impressed by his celebrity status than his Message. “Check it out: you know that Jesus guy? He’s from Nazareth, too.” “I live right around the corner from his parents.” “Dear me, you mean you don’t live in Nazareth?” “Well.. I don’t want to say anything, but apparently the Messiah is from my town.” “His father built our cabinets.”
It could have been that the fact that they lived in the Lord’s hometown mixed up the people’s priorities. They didn’t realize that what was important wasn’t that the Messiah was from Nazareth, but that he was from God.
And so, when the time came for Jesus to “do his stuff,” those who lived in his hometown expected special handling. They assumed they were guaranteed first class treatment: lightning flashes, raining toads, screaming demons — more, fancier, greater miracles from “their” Messiah than had been done anywhere else.
Instead, they received a teaching about God’s good pleasure to bless and heal outsiders.
That’s it? That’s the great Message — that God can bless and heal and forgive and redeem anybody at all? God loves and cares for others outside of the community? Outside of Israel? You mean we’re not special?!?! How dare you say such a thing!
As happens so often in the Gospel stories, those who hear it miss the Message. The people were outraged by Jesus’s words. Having set their hopes on being set apart — established as better than anyone else — they felt insulted; their pride was hurt.
What few of us can understand is that in the eyes of God everyone is special. It doesn’t matter when or where we were born, who our parents were, where we live or work, or who we know. There is no “in crowd.” There is no privileged group who are “entitled” to greater blessings or more miracles than any other.
We are all precious in God’s sight.
God’s forgiveness, mercy, and tender compassion isn’t a regional thing; it isn’t a national thing; or a state or city or family thing. God’s eternal, all-inclusive grace is a universal thing.
When Jesus spoke to those in his hometown, he did so with loving compassion and life-saving honesty. There was no condemnation. In all he said and did the Lord offered a path to healing, to hope and holy wisdom.
That afternoon in Nazareth Jesus taught his hearers about the vastness of the Eternal’s power and love. He offered them an opportunity to give thanks for God’s work in all places and all times. And he challenged their faith — daring them to believe in his words, even if he didn’t “do something” for them.
That’s a lot to take in. It is not surprising that the Nazarenes didn’t grasp it right away. The Good News can seem overwhelming, almost too good to be true. We are special: God loves every one of us as if there was only one of us — abundantly, limitlessly. That’s how great God’s love is. That’s how great God is.
The gospel tells us that, at the end, the Lord walked through the middle of the crowd and no one lifted a hand against him. I believe that is because the people in Jesus’ hometown were beginning to understand his Message; the Gospel light was beginning to shine in their hearts.
May it always shine in ours.
Virtual hugs and real-time blessings,
Deborah +
Imagine being loved: completely, limitlessly, eternally. That’s how great God’s love is — for you and for all people.