TEXT: Luke 4: 16-30  nRSV

MISSING YEARS

It is more than a little bothersome that Luke goes to so much detail in chapters 1 and 2 only to skip forward to Jesus’ baptism at around 30 years old. Where was he all of that time and what was he doing? In short, we can’t really know, but I can point you toward the best guesses.

There was a popular book out in the Seventies claiming to have evidence that Jesus—during those so-called “lost” years—went to India and was known as Esa. While there he developed a following as a healer and great teacher. This is improbable. Evidence rests on shaky ground and minor reference which could be confusing Jesus with the message of St. Thomas, who is reputed to have taken Christianity to India in the first century.

A better guideline is this: when absolutely nothing is said, it is most likely because what happened was extremely ordinary to the writers and hearers of the time. If something is completely obvious, it doesn’t receive coverage.

When White House correspondents cover the latest press briefing, they don’t comment on the weather if it’s a normal day. They don’t tell you that the President did in fact eat breakfast (unless it was McDonald’s happy meal or something odd) because we don’t report the extremely ordinary.

So what was the ordinary for Jesus? Probably one of two things. One, he grew  up in Nazareth like an ordinary Jewish boy, working with Joseph his father who was a construction worker (not merely a carpenter, sorry) and taking care of things in the ordinary way. This is most probable, but it wouldn’t explain the hometown excitement at having Jesus back in his hometown synagogue that we hear from the text.

Secondly, he may have gone the classical, rabbinical path. Boys with extraordinary study skills and high moral character were kept in school after their bar mitzvah rite of passage to manhood. The normal path for an extraordinary student would be to study under a mature and respected rabbi, perhaps in Jerusalem. Study would go on until one was of age to begin his own ministry and take on his own disciples—as it happens—at about thirty years old.

These-or a combination of the two—are the most probable, most ordinary path. I can easily imagine Jesus starting out working with Joseph until Joseph dies, at which point Mary would have been taken into the home of Joseph’s brother Alphaeus. We’ll hear later of Jesus’ half brothers, but perhaps at that point when his mother Mary, now widowed, is safely under Alphaeus’ care, Jesus leaves Nazareth for Jerusalem to rabbinical studies.  He lives in or around Jerusalem until the time comes for him to be revealed—at about thirty.

NO HOME COURT ADVANTAGE

As we read last week, Jesus is baptized by John in the Jordan. While he is being baptized, the Holy Spirit descends upon him and a voice from Heaven says, “"You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." This signifies that Jesus’ authority doesn’t come from worldly or human sources. He wasn’t given his authority by kings or countries—not even Israel could confer such authority upon him—but his authorization comes from God above.

From there he faces forty days of temptations in the wilderness. Jesus is like Israel, who, after passing through the waters of the Red Sea in the Exodus, wander in the wilderness for forty years.  After Jesus defeats the devil, he returns home to Nazareth, filled with the Holy Spirit.

The next part of the account is quite ordinary. It’s Saturday, the Sabbath, and Jesus goes to synagogue as usual, but there is an excitement in the air at Jesus’ return to his hometown. Surely the people knew he was a rabbi, so they ask him to read the scroll.  He reads from Isaiah and here among his townsfolk he reveals for the first time that he is in fact God’s anointed one: the Messiah.

The text says that everyone speaks well of him. “That’s our Jesus making it big in Jerusalem!” “Good on ya, Jesus—we all knew you had it in you!” The question is this: did the people of Nazareth want Jesus’ greatness to glorify the Father or just them and their town?

They start out being all for him, but then he switches his town and reminds them that no prophet is approved of in his own hometown, and that the prophets Elijah and Elisha didn’t do much for their own folks.

WORD AS IT IS

Had the people voted, Jesus would have been out but quick. Jesus tells them that they will not be receiving any special benefit as a result of being his hometown, and that he intends to save his best stuff—miracles, healings, etc.—for other towns. It’s pretty clear Jesus had no interest in popularity.

Jesus doesn’t finish his proclamation by asking people, “Well, what do you think about what I said?” He wasn’t soliciting feedback. If he had, what might he have heard as he stood at the door and shook hands?

“Pardon me for saying so, but that was offensive!”

“We prefer the older rabbi—he tells a lot of cute stories and has some really funny ones!”

“It didn’t speak to me or my needs; it was all about you.”

Jesus’ words send the people into full fury mode. They run him out of town on a rail and even seek to kill him. Yes, his own people.

Politicians think of popularity as a good thing. It is absolutely essential for their success. For Jesus, popularity was utterly irrelevant. He stands in his hometown synagogue and speaks the truth—nothing but the truth/God’s own truth—and lets the chips fall where they may. There is no polling, no gearing the message, and no careful finessing of his message. Why should there be? He is the  Word of God incarnate and he is the sword that undercuts all our well-cherished notions and sentiments.

You might, if you were a Nazarene synagogue goer, say that his message was absolutely insensitive to the feelings of the people—his own people—the nerve! Why couldn’t he have softened the blow? Told a few jokes first or closed with a nice little poem that rhymes?

How could he be so hurtful to us, his homies, who fed him and clothed him and raised him? One of his old neighbors speaks up, “I used to babysit for him and changed his diapers!” Another: “I lived on the same street and stood up for him when the local bully was about to beat him up!”  Others: “We shared our food with Joseph and Mary when times were tough on all of us—we are a real community and one people—we know you, boy!”

The Word of God never caters to popular sentiment. Never.

Many try, for it can be watered down, sugared up, and otherwise pre-chewed or made-to-measure, but all these things weaken rather than strengthen it.

[In case you’re thinking this is all some kind of personal refutation, I’ll let you know it absolutely is not. Perhaps in my mid-twenties it could have been, but no more. If in my presentation of the Word of God I have been difficult to relate to, it is not because I haven’t taken pains to make the message more relatable, it is rather because I feel enormously burdened not to misrepresent the Word. My life’s calling is to present the Word as it is, which often means it is troubling, challenging, and unaccommodating to what you and I like or want. That is the preacher’s task in every generation.]

The people are faced with an essential life-decision. When the Word of God is presented for what it is, we will decide whether we like it or  not. Changing it—altering in any way to suit our sentiments or feelings—is not an option. Better to be honest and say, “I don’t like God’s Word; I prefer my own feelings and sentiments, so if you can’t give it to me in a way that I can handle—one that respects my feelings—then I am out!”

Which is exactly what the people of Nazareth did.

METANOIA [AGAIN]

John the Baptist called people to repent—to turn, convert, and think different—and we see here that this is still the  needed message. We must turn not only from sin, but from selfhood and our own personal preferences, feelings, and sentiments. Our own likes and dislikes don’t mean anything when we’re confronted by Christ. The Word of God takes precedent over all else.

To be confronted by the Word of God is an invitation to renounce self in all forms, for the Word calls us to turn away from ourselves, our personal preferences, our cherished sentiments. We are called to die—to ourselves and to the world—in order that we may know new life in Christ.

This is the Word of God today as ever. You and I are challenged to follow Jesus. The only alternative response is to stay in Nazareth and pursue you self-interest.

May we all hear that calling afresh here and now, and may we all come to trust in the Word—the name of Jesus—renouncing everything else standing in the way. †