Home. Has there ever been a word so full of
meanings as this one?
“There’s
no place like home,” we are told by Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz.
“Home
is where the heart is,” Pliny the Elder first said, and two thousand years
later many of us are still saying it.
Thomas
Wolfe tells us, “We can’t go home again.”
The
word “home” has a way of hitting different people in different ways, and the
same person in many ways, too.
Home
may be the place you find peace and rest.
It may be the place where you have had to be careful of how loud you
get, or whose space you invade. Home may
be the land of your birth and a hostile place where you fear for your
life. Home may be a place you love to
go, but also the place you love to leave.
For some, home is where people know you best, or think they do.
In
the Gospel today, Jesus’ triumphant homecoming of last week, where he had the
love and approval of everyone, that
homecoming takes an unpleasant turn.
There
is a moment where I pinpoint the turn taking place.
“Is
not this Joseph’s son?”
I
think so much turns on that one moment.
It is so authentically a homecoming moment. In a small town, or even a particular community
such as a church for instance, identity is communal. You are more than just yourself but also an
extension of the entire community.
This
is Jesus. This is Joseph and Mary’s
son. We knew him when. We saw him running through the streets as a
child. We remember how his laughter rang
down the alleys when he and his friends chased one another. This is our boy.
This
is home town boy makes good stuff. He
has come back to us and we have heard all the amazing things he has done. He must have come to bring good things to us.
But
this is not that kind of homecoming. In
fact, Jesus reminds them of how Elijah and Elisha both healed outsiders/enemies
rather than their own people. Jesus
won’t be healing anyone that day. Not in
Nazareth anyway. And then the people
rage. Hey, he isn’t who we thought he
was. We raised him better than that.
Except
Jesus isn’t living to please his earthly parents or the community who raised
him. He is living to serve his Heavenly
Father. And what does that service look
like? It looks a lot like bringing good
news to the poor, releasing the captives, restoring sight to the blind, freeing
the oppressed and proclaiming the year of God’s favor.
And
the truth of the matter is: There are poor, captive, blind, and oppressed
people all over the world. And Jesus
came for them also.
We
think we can build walls to keep “those” people at bay. We want a literal wall between ourselves and
the others, the undesirable, the unwanted, the refugees fleeing for their
lives. David Lose wrote a brilliant
letter in relation to this week’s Gospel and used the poem “Mending Wall” by
Robert Frost to illustrate his point.
The
poem is about two neighbors walking the fence line between their lands and
replacing the rocks that have fallen down.
As they walk the neighbor says, “Good fences make good neighbors” but
the writer questions whether or not this is true. “Before I built a wall I’d ask to know What I
was walling in or walling out. And to
whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.”
God
does not love walls.
Jesus
does not love walls.
Jesus
came to break the walls down.
I
read just recently, and I am sorry I can’t recall who said it, that anytime you
build up a wall, you can be certain you put Jesus on the outside. Jesus will always choose the side of the
outsider. As Dorothy Day put it, “I
really only love God as much as the person I love the least.”
Jesus
fled death with his parents as a child because Herod was killing children. Jesus was a refugee. Jesus was born into a world where all things
that live die. Jesus didn’t come just
for the people you like or the people you think deserve God’s love.
We
love to hear that Jesus loves us. Do we
love hearing it so much when we realize Jesus loves everyone?
Because
that is the nature of the Loving God we believe in. We believe in God who loves us and loves this
world of God’s creation so much. Maybe
we sometimes find it offensive to believe that God’s love is for everyone. But isn’t that what makes God’s love so
extraordinary? Isn’t that even what
makes it Good News?
God
loves us all. None of us deserve
it. But God doesn’t care who among us is
worthy.
We
all have a place at home in God’s arms.
Thanks
be to God.
Amen.
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