Faith in the Familiar

Today's readings: Psalms 54, 146; Isaiah 48:12-22; Galatians 1:18-2:10; Mark 6:1-13

Can you imagine any of your childhood friends becoming the Messiah? Neither could the people of Jesus’ hometown. When we know someone from before the time they were toilet-trained, or endure their period of adolescent moodiness, or witness other personal (all too humanizing!) traits, our ability to see her or him as truly extraordinary can evaporate. Executive washrooms are exclusive for a reason. Familiarity may not always breed contempt, but it doesn’t often promote respect.

When Jesus tried to teach in Nazareth, people took offense at his attempt. They asked: “Isn’t he just that carpenter? You know, Mary’s kid?”(Mark 6:3). Their unbelief amazed him, and limited his abilities (vv 5-6). Like a nightmarish high school reunion, his peers preconceptions negated all he had become. We benefit from hindsight, but how would we react if the neighbor kid started telling us we needed to rethink our concept of God?

Though none of our neighbors, children, siblings, parents or friends are likely to be the second coming of Christ, the reaction of the people of Nazareth serves as a warning. We don’t always want to hear challenging truths from someone we know well. We may brush off legitimate criticism from friends by reminding ourselves (and them) of their own faults. We might ignore good advice from Dad because “he always worries too much.” After watching our children make mistakes we warned them about, maybe we can’t learn to see them as capable adults. Companies often bring in consultants to point out obvious truths not because consultants are smarter, but because strangers lack the baggage we use to discredit our peers when we don’t want to hear them.

What damage do we cause our relationships when, even unknowingly, we dismiss people because they are familiar? Maybe we’re not preventing them from performing miracles, but how much might they accomplish if given a little faith? One way we can try to see the face of Christ in everyone is to define them by their potential, and not by their shortcomings. Sometimes they may let us down, but how we can rejoice when they lift us up!

Evening readings: Psalms 28, 99

People Are People

Today's readings: Ps 83; Est 7:1-10; Acts 19:11-20; Luke 4:14-30

Sometimes all it takes to be a prophet is an understanding of human nature and a keen sense of irony. When Jesus begins preaching in his home town of Nazareth, he knows the people in the synagogue will want the same signs he performed earlier in Capernaum. (You may remember from our reflection on Mark 6:1-6 that the people of Nazareth had so little faith, Jesus was unable to do more than lay hands on a few sick people.) Jesus tells them “no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s hometown” (Luke 4:24) Five verses later, they are trying to throw him off a cliff.

They could have tried to be more accepting, if only to prove him wrong, right? But that’s not human nature. Who as an adolescent does not at least consider responding to a parent by saying something like “If you’re going to give me the third degree about drinking every time I leave the house, I might as well just do it!” One irony is a protective parent pushing a teenager toward exactly the behavior s/he wishes to avert, and a second is the immature person’s assertion of innocence via threat of guilt. In a more adult example, consider the spouse who blames infidelity on a partner’s insecurity about the spouse’s faithfulness. Or the faithful who want to throw their savior off a cliff.

Jesus saw it coming, and so should we. Across time, geography and culture certain truths about human nature persist. We tend to think we are more self-aware than other people, but in reality – not so much. When we’re not busy convincing ourselves we are better than we are, we may be looking at other cultures and communities as “noble savages” who are somehow exempt from the less desirable traits of humanity. Or worse, we may look at whole groups of people as more capable of corruption than we could ever be. As clichéd as it might sound, people are people.

The good new is, we can be better. First, we must abandon the mindset that we are exempt from basic human nature. Second, we must honestly examine ourselves as an outsider (Jesus, maybe?) might see us. Finally, we must consciously decide to act in ways consistent with our faith, even if that action goes against our nature. Let’s step back from the cliff.

Comfort: God knows our nature – and our potential.

Challenge: Ask yourself what you do, even though you know better.

Prayer: God of strength, I seek your nature before my own.

Evening readings: Ps 85, 86


Tomorrow's readings: Ps 88; Est 8:1-8, 15-17; Acts 19:21-41; Luke 4:31-37