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St. Charles’ Episcopal Church - Saint Charles, IL
The Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany - Epiphany 4 RCL – Year C
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Jeremiah 1:4-10 – Psalm 71:1-6 – 1 Corinthians 13:1-13 – Luke 4:21-30
Rev. William R. Nesbit, Jr.
In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.
“Ah, Lord GOD! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.”
But the LORD said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am only a boy’;
for you shall go to all to whom I send you,”
“For you are my hope, O Lord GOD, my confidence since I was young.”
“When I was a child, I spoke like a child,
I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child;
when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways.”
“Is not this Joseph’s son?”
What are we to make of this collection of verses this morning? And what are we to take home? It sure looks like a mixed bag. A confusing bag. Are we to be children or adults, or does it matter? In my preaching class I was told that one of the great dangers of preaching on a constellation of readings on a Sunday morning is to assume that they have anything to do with each other. Sometimes they might, but never assume that they do. The general rule of thumb was that the Gospel and the Old Testament lesson were frequently related to each other by design, but that the Epistle lesson was rarely related to the other two as it tended to be selected sequentially. I’ve always thought it was interesting that I had to get to seminary realize that. I guess a history of hearing preachers attempt to tie everything up in a nice neat package hid that truth from me!
I thought today we might look at just one of the stories. The great preacher and storyteller Herbert O’Driscoll likes to say that the stories in the Bible were remembered and handed down through the oral tradition, and eventually written down and gathered together, because they are eternal stories, stories that apply to us directly even though they were first told thousands of years ago. The trick is finding ourselves in the story. And the problem is, as it is with all great literature, there are always a lot of places to look. First we must pick a story, and only one story so as not to make it too difficult. I first thought about the call of Jeremiah, but the more I looked at the story of Jesus’ return to Nazareth, the more I thought that it really has more to say about us, and more to say to us today. I know I just preached on much of this just last week, but don’t worry. As with much of the Bible, there is plenty here to chew on. There is a reason why the Bible continues to be as popular as it isafter all these years.
Now if we look at the Gospel story this morning there are basically three characters:Jesus, the people of Nazareth, and the people of Capernaum. At first blush it appears obvious that we are the good people of Capernaum who see Jesus as a man who speaks with authority, that the people of Nazareth are all those bad people who don’t go to church, and Jesus is Jesus. Whenever something appears obvious, I like to dismiss it right away. Not because it is wrong, but because it is obvious. Who needs to preach on the obvious stuff. You can take care of that on your own. There is more to this story, much more...there always is. Why spend time on the obvious. So that leaves us with two other choices. Which do you think we should examine first? Ok, let’s take the hard choice first: “No guts, no glory,” I always say.
What does this story have to say to us if we are the people of Nazareth. I know it’s hard to see ourselves as “the bad guys” at first, the people of Nazareth, but if you think about it, we really are those people in Nazareth; people who have grown up around Jesus and with Jesus. And when Jesus speaks the words we want to hear, we speak well of him and pat him on the back, or on the top of the head. But as more and more of the living reality that is Christ Jesus becomes revealed to us; or to put it another way, as Jesus grows up before our very eyes of faith, and begins to push us beyond ourselves, how often do we push back? How often do we reject the change, and indeed, even take offense? Take offense when this new Christ does not live up to our comfortable and known preconceptions, and demands more of us than we think we can give, or think we ought to have to give, or calls us out of our comfort zone. How often, I wonder, does our dear Lord gaze at us sadly from heaven, shaking his head like a disappointed parent, amazed at our unbelief.
I don’t know about you, but the part of the story that terrifies me the most, is how easily and effortlessly Jesus disappears from the midst of those people, those people who actually knew Jesus better than anyone else in all the Holy Land. It makes me wonder, “What if he should decide to leave our midst?” I never cease to give thanks that our God is a loving and generous God, who continues to pour down upon us the grace we so desperately need, and yet so wantonly squander or ignore. And I pray I would never give him cause to leave our midst... To leave my side...My heart. Like the psalmist so many years ago, I pray almost daily,“O God, be not far from me; come quickly to help me, O my God.”
We have one more choice of character in the story that modesty generally keeps us away from. Perhaps that is the real reason why I chose it second. It is hard to take on the role of Jesus. We think it is an impossible dream, an unapproachable goal, and yet in our baptismal vows, and in the prayer for St. Charles church that we pray each week, we set that goal as the mission of our lives; to grow into the full stature of Christ. Let’s see if this story can shed a little light on what that looks like.
Today we are given an example of how to attain that stature in the world. There will be times when the gospel of Christ will be comforting and there will be times when it will be profoundly unsettling, and there may even be times when it is both at the same time. Whatever the response, we are reminded, that the truth must be spoken, whether it is heard as new or old, amazing or terrifying, right or wrong. The truth must be spoken among the people. To grow into the stature of Christ is, among other things, to find our own prophetic voice. To be a true prophet is to speak the truth to power. The result is that we may be driven out, to be thrown off the cliff, but this story reminds us that the Christian way, the Christ-like way, is not to respond with anger or force, but to gently and peacefully go our way. To remember that the truth will be heard eventually, it will gain its authority eventually, though it may take a Sabbath time before that occurs. In the midst of all this hostility, notice the calm, patient assurance that Jesus has throughout the encounter. It is as if he knows. Perhaps he too was remembering the portion of Jeremiah we heard this morning. “You shall speak whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, says the LORD.”
One of the great comforts that I take away from this Gospel story this morning is that even the prayers of Jesus sometimes look like they don’t get answered, at least not in a way that he might expect. Even Jesus has to wait on the Lord, and so by his waiting he ennobles our waiting with his holy presence. By his example he reminds us that we are never alone as we wait in prayer, even though there are times when it really feels that way. It is clear from the Gospel accounts that Jesus knew the psalms very well. They were the prayers of his daily life and so I mean to make them mine as well. “But I shall always wait in patience, and shall praise you more and more. My mouth shall recount your mighty acts and saving deeds all day long; though I cannot know the number of them. I will begin with the mighty works of the Lord GOD; I will recall your righteousness, yours alone. O God, you have taught me since I was young, and to this day I tell of your wonderful works.” Amen. Again I say, Amen!