02 Feb Sermon – SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 2025
The best way to understand why Jesus causes such a stir among the temple goers of Nazareth in Luke chapter 4 is by overlaying the contents of 1 Corinthians 13:1-13 with the gospel text. The text begins by saying that all in the synagogue spoke well of Jesus for saying what they desired: that scripture had been fulfilled that day in their hearing.
They described the words from Jesus’ mouth as gracious. What do we think of when we say that someone’s words are gracious? We usually mean that what they’ve said has been received by us as a blessing. The words are to our credit or have been said for our benefit. A sense of appreciation for the kind consideration shown to us is felt inwardly, especially when the kindness is unexpected or seems unwarranted.
Likewise, if we feel that kindness is due or ought to be afforded to us and it is not, we may feel slighted, perhaps even insulted. So Jesus recognizes that they’ve identified his gift of eloquence: the ability to speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels. While they are still listening, he wants to continue the lesson.
If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or clanging cymbal. In other words, Jesus is saying, “You people like the sound of what I’ve said so far because it’s all about you being special, but what you heard has yet to ring the actual bell of truth. God love is not partial and cannot show favoritism. Everything God does has greater purpose than satisfying any one individual or group’s particular desires.
Like Paul, Jesus states that having prophetic powers and all knowledge, understanding mysteries which includes faith that could move mountains, or for that matter, having scripture fulfilled in your hearing, amounts to nothing if you do not have love. I happened to read these verses before starting my on-call shift at the hospital and driving through heavy snowfall to arrive there.
Beforehand, while getting dressed and packing up my suitcase, I had reminded myself of working for free/giving away my valuables and handing over my body to sleep deprivation, the unfamiliar and all kinds of discomfort. The verses helped remind me of my true purpose for the evening and overnight hours which I stated this way: “Do not dwell upon anything of which you might boast, Nancy, but focus on being love and having love for everyone you encounter.”
Then the townspeople sought a way to tear Jesus down. “Wait, is this not Joseph’s son?” they said. What else could that have meant other than to take Jesus down several notches in their eyes, to make him appear more ordinary, less esteemed/worthy to be spoken well of, less deserving of their wonder or astonishment, their attention and praise, their accolades of specialness and gracious talk.
Jesus gets a little snarky himself and says back, “Doubtless you will quote this proverb to me, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!” and demand that I perform for you as you heard I did at Capernaum.” In other words, “How dare you do it for others and not us?” How many of us get jealous of the amount of time, energy or attention given to our loved ones’ jobs or hobbies, friends, other family members, neighbors or complete strangers?
“C’mon,” we think or say. “Take care of your own; give us your best self or some of that great stuff others get from you. Let us experience the fun you, the humorous you, the generous/ polite/capable/well-dressed/respectful you.” I’m not just preaching to myself, am I?
I mean, if there’s something good to be had from our kids, like good manners, obedience, their willingness to serve or lend assistance, and someone like a teacher or a scout leader tells us how that boy or girl is capable of those things, don’t we, those closest to them, feel entitled to experience some of that good stuff, too?
And what does Jesus mean by saying, “Yeah. Well God doesn’t allow everyone to get what they need or want. Those widows went without and those lepers weren’t healed.” Perhaps the point he’s making is: “Love is patient and kind, not envious, boastful, arrogant or rude. It does not make demands for what it wants and is not irritable or resentful.”
As usual, Paul tries to speak for Jesus and to describe people as they are. They both try to encourage us to bear all things, believe all things, hope all things and endure all things. But doing these things is not easy at all when life is hard, when you or people you love are suffering greatly, or circumstances are too difficult or dangerous to bear, when hope for the best or endurance to continue seems cruel.
“When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off a cliff.” This is the normal human response to being told the equivalent of, “No. Your prayers will not be answered. Yes, I heard you, but today is not your day to escape the reality of your life’s circumstances. The problems that are making your life miserable or at the very least unpleasant will not be solved in the present day and not maybe ever.” Ouch.
But love never ends. All else will: prophecies, tongues and knowledge. And the knowledge that we have now of present or future circumstances is far from complete. It can only be considered partial. How we speak, think and reason is childlike because we gauge everything by how we see in a mirror dimly.
In the midst of blood thirsty rage, Jesus passes through the midst of the angry crowd and goes on his way. He knew that they were no longer listening to him. They couldn’t be reasoned with. Their voices and shouts drowned out every thought except the one they wanted to act on: Projecting their anger and disappointment upon the one person who could teach them something about love and was all too happy to have helped them figure out how to go on living.
There are times in life when we cannot rise above doing what comes naturally, saying and thinking whatever comes to mind, reasoning with selfish motivation as children often do. On occasion and over time, we may evolve into adulthood and put an end to childish ways, but not always. It is difficult to see ourselves clearly since the mirror is dim. It’s like my windshield, headlights and side mirrors were after driving to and from York: covered in dried salt and dirty roadway splash up.
In order to see fully and observe others face to face, I first had to admit that there was filth between me and the others Christ wants me to see and love. My ability to be as God wishes me to be in this world is impaired by all that has splashed upon me (or you) and been allowed to accumulate and dry up, get hard and crusty to where a few squirts of washer fluid and windshield wipers won’t do.
Becoming fully known and knowing fully rather than partially is a process not unlike having God take a bucket of cold soapy dishwater and a rag to you, so you won’t crack due to a difference in temperature, your ability to expand and contract without cracking. Being fully known and knowing fully rather than partially is like getting rinsed repeatedly, having a heavy hand take another sponge rung out all over you in every direction, finally getting another wipe then being dried with a soft absorbent towel before heading down another road full of dirt and debris.
Now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love. Most of my encounters that night at the hospital were with young adults, their parents, grandparents, other family and friends. None of the tragedy that befell them was anyone’s fault. Every family was made up of faithful Christians, eager for my prayers though they’d already been praying.
There was no question of love already being present. In fact, it was obviously a constant and the way they interacted daily. It was obvious in their language, the hopes and dreams among them. It was obvious in the way the teenager wanted to join hands before prayer as a hand extended from the plane of the gurney toward mine. It was obvious in how one of them had put their own body in danger to save a younger body from harm and made a great sacrifice and in how another takes personal time out of their week to drive an elderly neighbor to the doctor and grocery store and won’t take anything in return.
What I discovered most of all was that it was not about me or my ability to love them, but about me getting out of God’s way and discovering for myself how much love already exists among people that hitherto, I didn’t even know existed. Let us pray.
Dear and gracious Lord, how willing you are to inspire, to demonstrate and teach us about your brand of love. How you allow us to hear testimony of love and witness unselfish acts of sacrifice, of faithful trust in you when loved ones’ lives are threatened or near death. You’re so right, there is nothing greater. Give us hope, faith and love to share with others. Help us grow in knowledge and to accept being fully known so that one day, all will be made clear and there’s nothing left toward which we may become angry or disappointed. In your holy name we pray, Amen.