Okay, perhaps the latter part of this post tends to obscure the first part, which is the message I really need to pay more attention to if I'm to not consign myself to living as a slave to the feelings at the end. There's some good meat in there, though I was wondering if maybe I'd gotten ahead of myself/the Church a little by focusing on what was coming, After all, Jesus' neighbors' response to him wasn't part of Sunday's Gospel, yet I found myself focusing on how applicable that reading is to our own lives and the reasons why we often fail to hear that this word is fulfilled in our hearing it. I'm sure I've blogged on "hear" before in the context of Ps 95. It means more than physical hearing, but understanding, as well. "This passage" is indeed fulfilled to the degree that we hear and apply it to our own lives. But just when I thought I'd plumbed too far and wouldn't have anything left for the coming week, we found fresh insight when we read the Gospel for this coming Sunday.
First, it is probably good for us to understand some of the religious, social and psychological perspective ot Nazareth. As I understand it, the entire northern part of the kingdom of Israel was looked down upon by the Jews of the south because of their intermarriage and resulting idolatry following the conquering of the northern kingdom by Assyria, and these people's opposition to the repatriation of the southern kingdom following the Babylonian exile. Galilee, north of Samaria, was disrespected right along with it as being impure in blood and faith, and Nazareth was considered basically considered the scum of Galilee.
Then one of their own sons goes abroad, and back come tales of the wonders that he has worked. Now, the people must have thought, we're finally going to get the respect we deserve! This miracle worker will show them that we aren't scum! Yet they were also skeptical: it isn't as if three decades would erase the scandalous circumstances of Jesus' birth from their collective memory. Surely no rose of deliverance could blossom from such sinful roots? Ironically, the people of Nazareth use the same skepticism that Nathanael would use when initially decried, "Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?" carrying it to the point of the later out-of-hand judgment and rejection of the Pharisees, "Look into it, and you will find that a prophet does not come out of Galilee."
This, then, is the sort of judgment we often use against ourselves - and against each other - to limit the ways we believe God will work in our own lives. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy of doubt, and is what I referred to in my previous post as "the trap of Nazareth."
And even when we dare to share in the hope that they initially express, - "All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his lips." - we also tend to look for incontrovertible evidence that we are not placing vain hope in something that we have seen to be so flawed. How can I be individually a part of the anointed Body of Christ, when I have seen how utterly, undeniably unworthy I am of such a role? We sometimes want proof that God is working powerfully in our lives, and in the absence of some sort of miracle we interpret each stumbling as evidence that he is not.
In response to the signs for which Jesus knows his neighbors and kinfolk are seeking, he seems to offer a rebuke, invoking most renowned works of two of the greatest ancient prophets of Israel - even of their own region - and pointing out that these works did not benefit the many needy of their native land who were in similar need to the ones who were so blessed. No wonder they wanted to throw him off a cliff!
But once again, their history is not so important as what it reveals about our own faith journey. I am reminded of our visiting priest on Epiphany this year, who talked about what it truly meant for Israel to be God's chosen people. They viewed it as a mark of privilege for their own benefit, that God would always be their provider and defender, at the expense of those around them. "We are chosen, and therefore you are not!" Yet this priest emphasized that what it means for us to be God's people is actually something very different. Israel was, and we are, to be a light to the nations. This is what it means to belong to God. It isn't that we are privy to great wonders wrought on our behalf, but that we have the unfathomable privilege of God's light shining through our lives, of participating in his plan of salvation! The wondrous works God has done have always been primarily about revealing his love to those who do not know him. Thus it was for Jesus, too, and when we look for those works for some other purpose - for our own benefit or blessing - we may find ourselves angry at God for not serving us according to our own will.
So no, being a disciple of of Christ doesn't mean we will be free of the circumstances that are faced by many others around us who don't follow him. It doesn't mean we are superior to them. Rather, it means allowing God to be present in and work through our lives in whatever way best reveals the light of his glory to those who are still struggling, whether those ways be mundane or marvelous. It always means having someone close to us who lends us strength and peace in the midst of even the darkest of our circumstances. And it means continuing to follow rather than being filled with despair or anger when our prayers are not answered in the way we deem best.
But we can be assured that the Holy Spirit will reveal the Father's glorious plan of salvation no matter how humble our beginnings, no matter how great our failures, no matter how people might judge us or we might judge ourselves. God's plan for us is always greater than we can imagine!
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