Sermon Transcript: January 19, 2025
We continue in the Gospel according to Luke. We are in chapter 4 today. And just a couple—a reminder and then a couple of other comments before I read the passage. We have been emphasizing Luke’s inclusiveness in writing his Gospel. He is particularly interested in writing to and highlighting those who are kind of outsiders. He’s writing particularly to Gentiles, but really has an eye for anyone who does not feel included—who is outside of the spheres of power.
One of the ways that this is evident: during Advent, I really concentrated on Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus. I highlighted the women that Matthew mentions in his genealogy. Luke’s genealogy is equally fascinating and revealing in that he tells the genealogy in reverse. So, instead of the genealogy beginning with the oldest and proceeding toward the present, Luke goes the opposite direction and ends on Jesus being the son of Adam and the son of God.
This is another nod at Luke’s inclusiveness because if that is the link Luke is making with the title Son of God, then we are all sons and daughters of Adam and, therefore, sons and daughters of God.
The other thing I want to say is, just—you know, we follow the narrative lectionary here. So we begin in September with Genesis, and we kind of work our way through. Then, as we get to Christmas and the New Year, we’re in a Gospel. After Easter, we’ll be in some of the epistles, and we work our way.
Today’s reading highlights one of the reasons I really like the narrative lectionary. There are two references in our passage today to Hebrew Scriptures—one from Isaiah and another from the prophet Elijah and Elisha. And we have read these. We read these passages this fall. So, it gives us a depth of understanding and appreciation for the references that Luke is making because we’ve read these together, studied them, and talked about them.
Luke 4:14-30
Then Jesus, in the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding region. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.
When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to set free those who are oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him.
Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
And all spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, “Is this not Joseph’s son?”
He said to them, “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say, ‘Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.’”
And he said, “Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s hometown. But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up for three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land. Yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon.
There were also many with a skin disease in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.”
When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff.
But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.
For the word of God in Scripture, for the word of God among us, for the word of God within us—thanks be to God.
***
It’s a short passage, but man, there’s a lot of action. There’s a lot going on. Some call this Jesus’ hometown sermon. Some call it his inaugural address.
The scene begins with everybody embracing Jesus and ends with them attempting to kill him by throwing him off a cliff.
After his baptism in the Jordan by John, Jesus spends some time alone in the wilderness where he is tempted. Between that scene and the one we read today are two verses telling us that Jesus began to preach in Galilee and that word about him began to spread.
So, the trip back home to Nazareth is at the very onset of Jesus’ ministry. It begins with Jesus going to the synagogue—as was his custom on the Sabbath—and reading from Isaiah 61: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me.”
Once he’s rolled up the scroll, he looks at all the familiar faces of his hometown, goes and sits down, and then says: “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
Boom.
All these people in Jesus’ hometown—they’re amazed and impressed. They can’t believe this is the same Jesus who used to run around playing with his friends. You can imagine some of them might have said to each other, “I changed his diaper once.” They all have that sense of pride people get when someone from among them goes on to do big things.
But then things change—quickly. Jesus, perhaps picking up on their sense of hometown pride, or their sense of ownership over him, suddenly seems uncomfortable with their praise.
You can imagine what the people might have been thinking: “If he’s going about doing all these amazing things, surely he’s going to take care of his own people. Surely he’s going to begin where he belongs!”
But Jesus cuts them off at the pass. He’s not going to play favorites. He doesn’t belong to them alone. His ministry isn’t provincial. He cites the examples of Elijah and Elisha. Likewise, Jesus’ ministry is going to be expansive.
Jesus starts not in his hometown because he favors them or is going to give them some special attention, but to demonstrate that he does not belong to them alone. The great poet Maya Angelou writes: “You only are free when you realize you belong no place. You belong every place—no place at all.” Of course, the people of Jesus’ hometown are highly offended by this. How dare he come to them, tell them all the wonderful things he’s going to do, and then withhold it from them? How ungrateful of him to deny them! How can he show care and compassion to strangers while turning his back on his own family and friends—people who have known him his whole life? They move quickly from singing his praises to forming a mob that wants to throw him off the cliff.
Such is the gospel’s power to offend our sense of fairness—of what is right and wrong, and of who deserves what. Grace is not evenly distributed. The gospel is not about fairness. It is about love and justice. God’s love does not always come to us as a warm hug or a pat on the back. Sometimes, it’s a kick in the butt—a wake-up call to a larger reality that our privilege allows us to ignore.
The people of Jesus’ hometown are apparently doing okay. I’m sure things aren’t perfect—like anyone, they could probably come up with a list of things they’d like Jesus to take care of for them. But Jesus doesn’t come to his hometown to prove himself or to show off, only to deny them. He came to give a far greater gift: to wake them up to a larger vision of what God is doing in the world. And that is something most of us need.
We Christians, especially, tend to think of Jesus as the captain of our team. We’re tribal people by nature. We think in terms of categories of people: us and them. People as others. And sometimes, yes, in order to prove our worth, we look down on those who aren’t on our team, those who aren’t in our tribe.
Jesus goes to Nazareth precisely to demonstrate that he does not belong there. That he belongs no place. That he belongs every place.
And Jesus doesn’t belong to us either. We Christians don’t own him. Anytime we think we have Jesus in our grasp, he does just what he did on that hillside: he passes through the midst and continues on his own way.
It’s not that Jesus doesn’t care about us. It’s not that he’s ignoring or rejecting us. It’s simply the fact that, despite what we think most of the time, the whole world doesn’t revolve around us.
That’s our default state of mind, isn’t it? It sure feels that way a lot of the time. But every once in a while, something reminds us that other people matter, too. That others have feelings, just as we do. That others have needs—not just those who see the world as we do, or who grew up in our hometown, or who belong to our team.
The gospel reminds us that even those other people—God loves them. Them too.
And that is the scandal of the gospel. It is good news—but it’s good news that doesn’t always take the form of comfort. Often, it challenges us to see the larger sphere of God’s concern and activity. To remind us that Jesus does not belong to us, but that Jesus came to remind us that we all belong to God.
Now, that’s not to say that all the ways we identify with others or organize ourselves into teams are bad. Many of them are necessary. Some are even good. It’s just a reminder that none of them are true in the ultimate sense.
Dr. King speaks of our ultimate reality when he said: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”
So on this day—on this weekend when we honor Dr. King’s legacy, when we read of Jesus going to his hometown and upsetting those who know him best—may God wake us up to a greater purpose than our own comfort and needs. May God remind us that God is so much bigger, that God’s love and care are so much more expansive, and that we, too, can be and are a part of that purpose. In the words of Dr. King, may we pray: “Use us, God. Show us how to take who we are, who we want to be, and what we can do—and use it for a purpose greater than ourselves.”
Amen.
