 |
|||
 |
 |
 |
|
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
 |
 |
|
2 Corinthians 12:2-10; Mark 6:1-13
It is not the custom for ministers to return to minister in their home congregations. Too many people know you, and have known you, perhaps from before you were born. That usually means they know and remember the worst about you. Remembering negative things about you is seldom the basis for a good ministry. This is why we usually call strangers to serve a congregation. You don't know what I was like as a teenager!
Nevertheless, despite this sound w arning I have done exactly this - my second pastorate was as Associate Minister at the downtown church in which I had been baptized and grew up. I was my mother's pastor and my father died only three months into my tenure there.
It was one of those huge cathedrals of Protestantism, a sanctuary seating 1200, and every seat taken during my elementary school days. An average of 125 occupied the vast prairie inside by the mid-1970's. My first advantage was that the congregation was too large as a youth for th em to get to know me well. When I returned, the few who did know me casually acted as enthusiastic door-openers for me. I was fortunate in having the best of situations. But it was like one of those stunt commercials: do not attempt this at your home church. It seldom works out that well and is usually a bitter disaster for both minister and congregation.
After raising Jairus' daughter in a town on some side of the Sea of Galilee, Jesus returned to his hometown, which Mark does not mention by name. Luke does say it is Nazareth, which makes the most sense of what then happens. He taught in the synagogue on the sabbath and many who heard him were astounded. Not all, but "many," most likely the ones who remembered Jesus as a child and young man.
If ever there were the need for quotations to include a sound recording of the tone of voice, it is surely here. The good synagogue folk ask three questions, but they are not looking for intellectual solutions. The questions are outraged rhetorical accusations. We know who he is; how dare Jesus come back here and try to teach us something!
Just like in one of our congregations, Jesus' condemnation was that they knew his mother - they don't mention Joseph; how much did they really know? - and his brothers and sisters as well. They worked with him as a carpenter, not as a scholar or rabbi. So where did he get all this? He can't be that smart and good, because he comes out of the same mold as us. He can't go thinking he is better than us. They took offense at him. It wasn't that Jesus was bad at teaching and healing; he was to their minds a traitor.
Jesus answers them with the proverb about the prophet who is honoured everywhere but in his hometown and by his own family. You don't have to be a prophet to find out that the people back home are convinced that you are "no longer one of them." Then there is a throwaway sentence which in fact is the punchline to the story. "He could do absolutely no deed of power there at all, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them." He could do nothing right, he was unable to do the right stuff, he was incompetent and weak. The hometown folks were correct: he was an ordinary human being, just like them, and they could certainly do nothing extraordinary.
Except...that Jesus could. Despite his failure to convince his neighbours, he healed the odd person here and there. Despite the fact that he was flabbergasted by their unbelief - their lack of faith which had healed the others who had come into contact with him - Jesus could heal those who apparently had little faith. Even out of his weakness, he had the power to bring others back to a full life. The cross enables the resurrection.
Jesus kept on teaching in the region, and then decided that his twelve disciples were fit now to do the same thing. He sent them out, two by two - a phrase we only hear in Noah's ark. Two by two the animals enter the ark as the salvation of creation. The disciples now reverse the direction and bring the creation back to life.
The disciples too carry the baggage of their hometowns, their families, all their failures. But they would cast out many demons and heal many who were sick, despite their weaknesses which Mark would frequently point out. After all, these were the twelve still: would you want to admit that Judas Iscariot was the man who healed you of your ailment? When he laid his hands upon you, was your new health an illusion? The people of Nazareth felt that Jesus was a traitor to their hometown values, and yet he could still heal a few of them. Judas did betray the Messiah into the hands of the ruthless government, yet this worst kind of weakness could heal a sick person.
Instructing them in the way to go about teaching and healing, Jesus wants them to be simple and guileless. Take what you receive, be glad about it, don't play games and try to better your situation. And if some people laugh at you and ridicule you, and are even offended by the way you talk and live, then dust the sand off your feet a nd let them go. God is the only one who is healing and judging them. Let them go and move on physically and mentally.
Few things hurt more than failure at home among the people who have raised and shaped your identity. Perhaps that is why "you can't go home again." More than any other group of people, the family, friends, and acquaintances of your home community know you for what you have been. When they look at you they see your weaknesses first - weaknesses which mitigate and nullify any strength you may have attained. If that doesn't tell you that you are a failure, nothing will.
Except...this is where our story differs from what you will be told outside on the streets, in the newspapers, on TV and radio, on the internet. If Jesus were to rely upon strength in order to succeed, two things would happen. First, he wouldn't have to tell his story, for the world tells us all the time that strength wins. No Gospel would be necessary, for we have plenty of little gospels today - Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods being good contemporary models.
Second, if Jesus were trying to show us that strength is the way to success, he was miserably unable to do it. It is through his weakness which went all the way to the Cross that his genuine power revealed itself. Our vulnerability and utterly fallible humanity is our road to resurrection.
No matter what your politics, there are few better examples than that of our Prime Minister Jean ChrŽtien. Everyone recognizes the paralysis he has on one side of his face - es Wpecially the political satirists and cartoonists. One day he was asked whether that was a handicap for him in politics where public speaking and appearances are so necessary. He had heard the question before. "This is my gift from God; why should I want to be rid of it?" Out of our weaknesses comes our most indelible strengths.
We can't do anything right, except along the way, on the way out of town, healing and making a difference in someone's life.
Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan
July 9, 2000
 |
 |
