Thursday after Epiphany
When Jesus arrives in Nazareth, the people of his hometown have some idea of who he is. His ministry is in its early days yet the word is getting around. And the people of his hometown are excited. Their hometown son is a thing. And he has chosen to come home.
I try to imagine an analogy. Try this one. It’s obviously limited. But maybe it works, in a way.
Imagine it’s spring 2020—March, in particular. Imagine the shutdown didn’t happen right then. Maybe it was pending but something like a month off. Imagine if March Madness had not been cancelled. Imagine if the University of Dayton basketball team—Obi Toppin and all—had been able to play Kansas for the national championship. Imagine if they had won. There were many who thought they could.
And then imagine if they had returned to Dayton victorious. After all that Dayton had endured: the last truck, NCR leaves for Atlanta, an opioid endemic, tornadoes, a mass shooting.
Upon their return, they would have been Dayton’s collective sons and heroes. And they were just basketball players.
Jesus returns to Nazareth. His hometown. And people are very excited. He goes to the synagogue. He reads from the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. And he announces not only that the Spirit of the Lord is upon him, and that he has been anointed, and that he has very good news.
He also says that he is going to bring good news to the poor. He is going to release the captives. He is going to return sight to the blind. He’ll let the oppressed go free. He’ll declare a special year for the Lord.
The NCAA championship is a very big deal. And I would have been among the loudest and proudest cheering upon the team’s return. But what Jesus was promising is so much more.
But here was the problem. It shows up a bit later in Luke’s Gospel. By chapters 28-30, Jesus-the-hometown-hero is being run out of town. The people of Nazareth are, we are told, filled with rage. They thought their homeboy was about bringing glory to them—personally. As the people of his hometown.
But what Jesus was talking about wasn’t just about them. That was their mistake. He wasn’t about rewarding a particular people from a particular region or culture or nation. He was about bringing good news to all who are poor. All who are captives. All who are oppressed.
Had the Flyers gotten their chance in spring 2020. Had they done what so many thought they could have done. Had they come home victorious. That would have been wonderful. I’d have been at the parade.
That said, Jesus is not the voice or the captain or the coach of the home team. He’s about so much more. And Jesus knew very well that his gospel on behalf of all who suffer was not going to be loved by the folks of his hometown. By Luke 4:28 he’s getting kicked out of town. And he undoubtedly saw it coming.
Our reading for today from 1 John puts the challenge to us in another way. To start, God loved us first. And if that is so, John writes, then if we can’t love the brother who is right in front of us (whether poor or captive or oppressed or something else), John writes, then we cannot say that we love the God we have not seen.
Let’s let that sink in. If we don’t love the brother that is right in front of us, then we cannot say that we love the God we have not seen.
On this day in January, that is a powerful challenge. And, once again, Jesus has it right. He doesn’t have a hometown. He doesn’t have a team. He died on the cross for all of us. All of us.
-Sue Trollinger