Luke 4:21-30
Today I’m thinking about edges. There are all types of edges we could talk about–edges of a page, edges of anything flat, really. We could call the moment the sun goes down, the edge or border between day and night. The earth’s ‘edge’ is turning away from the sun (or toward it as sunrise comes). People used to believe the Earth was flat and that there was an edge one could fall off. When I taught Middle School science, I used to ask students to talk about whether there is an edge to the universe—whether there is something beyond what we can see or know. And… I know my porch is edged because I’ve stepped off it sideways. Edges can be uncomfortable, exciting, and painful.
The passage from the gospel of Luke teaches us something about edges. It begins by telling us of a peaceful Sabbath morning in the synagogue in Nazareth, where Jesus was raised and grew up preaching. Jesus is there giving a sermon and has just unrolled a scroll with words written by Isaiah. He reads the words written by the prophet and points out that he, Jesus, is the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy. Jesus is claiming here that God sent him.
After this, the ‘people’, those who knew him as a child and watched him growing, seem to be satisfied that this young person, from their very midst, is making them proud. Jesus is a hometown hero, and they claim him as their own. We can almost hear the cheering from here, can’t we?
Jesus doesn’t stop there though. That’s where the story stopped last Sunday, and often, that’s where my memory of the story stops (partly because I don’t like to think about the rest of the story; I’m uncomfortable with the ‘edge’). You might say that we left the story last week at the point of a cliff hanger.
Here’s the edge. Can you feel it? Jesus reads the words of Isaish and says scripture has been fulfilled. Then Jesus goes further. . . he says a prophet is not welcome or accepted in his hometown. Before the people can even begin to ask him for favors, he names their expectations. . . and then he dismisses them by saying he won’t be meeting them. He won’t, he says, be working miracles in Nazareth. What?! And the cheers from the crowd die down. The tension here is like another character in the story.
Stepping away from the story for a bit, I have a question for all of us. Have you ever felt like you couldn’t meet the expectations of others? I wonder whether that felt uncomfortable for you. What feelings arise when you remember that time? For me, it’s like a living nightmare. I like to anticipate expectations and exceed them. I really don’t like the feeling of letting people down.
I can tell you that I am doing a lot of work in this area–the area of feeling like I need to meet the expectations of others.
When the expectations are agreed upon by two sides, meeting them is a good thing idea. This kind of situation creates peace. . . a Shalom community where all are thriving (the true biblical shalom means an inward sense of completeness or wholeness. Although it can also describe the absence of war, a majority of biblical references refer to an inner completeness and tranquility). But when the expectations are one-sided and not agreed upon by both sides, meeting them is not healthy. This situation would create an unbalanced community where some are pushed down by others (or some are raised up by stepping on others). This is exploitation; the opposite of Shalom.
Back to the scripture, Jesus goes on to tell the people that in Israel’s history there were miracles performed by the prophets Elijah and Elisha that did not meet the expectations of the Israelite people. Jesus reminds them that Elijah was sent by God to heal a foreign woman while widows in Israel went unhealed. And Naaman, a man from Syria was healed by Elisha while the people of Israel were not healed.
This is another ‘edge’ or turning point in this story. After Jesus had established that he was sent by God, and that he is a prophet like Elisha and Elijah; and after he predicted that the people of his hometown might start asking him to perform miracles in Nazareth, he tells them that he would not be doing that. As we might expect, the people (who had just admired his work and his prophet-ness) were furious with Jesus.
Here is Jesus who says he’s sent by God and can work miracles, but instead of helping those in Nazareth—people who seem to feel like they own him—he promises to help people on the edge of society. The foreigner, the outcast, the poor. . .
The people at the synagogue in Nazareth are quick to turn toward violence. They immediately bring Jesus to the edge of town, to the edge of a cliff. The Israelite people see themselves as chosen. Special in the eyes of God. Even so, they are oppressed and marginalized by the Roman occupation. And now their hometown hero refuses to perform miracles for them. They want exclusive rights to God. They want Jesus to work for them.
In the story arc of the Bible, the Israelite people forget over and over that God’s love is for EVERYONE (not specifically them). The Romans, the Syrians, the poor, the rich, the ruler, the slave. I wonder whether we do too.
I know that when something especially hard happens to me, I question God’s love for me. I find myself thinking, “God, I’ve done all the things you ask of me. I’ve tried hard to live my life according to your will.” I know I’m forgetting that God doesn’t promise any of us easy lives. God does tell us there is an abundance of love for ALL and that will never change.
Jesus reached outside the edges of the community that claimed him as their hero. They wanted to claim him and his love for themselves. Jesus showed his own community that God’s love is for EVERYONE. No one deserves God’s love more or less than anyone else.
Jesus taught about Shalom. Shalom can only be felt in a community. If all in the community are not thriving, there can be no Shalom. If there is exploitation—there is no Shalom or thriving. If there is exploitation, it creates an edge.
And there are no edges, no boundaries to God’s love.
Citations:
Jolene Miller from Roanoke Mennonite Church in Illinois
Luke 4:21-30
Jaqui Eicher 