Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 72

The word of the LORD came to me, saying: Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you. But do you gird your loins; stand up and tell them all that I command you.

Last Sunday we heard Saint Luke describe the reception Jesus received as he began his ministry in his native town of Nazareth, "...the eyes of all in the synagogue looked intently at him." They were astonished at his reading and reflection upon it -- “Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing!” They didn't know what to make of him. He was certainly familiar. They knew his family and his face; his accent was local; but his presence -- suddenly revealed as mysterious, powerful, and divine -- astonished them. 

They had just heard the Word of God announce the Word of God. What had been familiar and commonplace suddenly shone with a brilliant light. They had a revelation. 

In today's gospel we hear what happened next. After the shock wave of astonishment passed through them like a receding sea, the mundane returned like a tsunami. The synagogue, the local neighborhood, the city and region with their politics and problems had suddenly looked strange like the sea bottom exposed. And then the normal flooded over them again. 

They didn't like the experience, and they wanted no more of it. “Isn’t this the son of Joseph?” Who does he think he is reading to us like that, and making like he is the Son of God?

Not many people attend church, synagogue, or mosque expecting anything new or astonishing. If they're prepared for a new statue, icon, or minister to be introduced they also expect this novelty to fit in with everything they already know. They don't like upheaval. They don't want a new understanding of this world.  

Religion is naturally conservative and religious leaders have always cultivated a reassuring sense of the normal, routine, and quotidian. A consumer society in church may want to be entertained but the entertainment should be like a roller coaster ride -- predictable, safe, and harmless. They may have gone to the top of the "mountain" on this fantastic ride, but the world was not changed when they coasted to a stop. 

Preachers, set on building and maintaining their congregations in a competitive religious market, often recommend, "Take what you like and leave the rest." If change must come you don't have to take it. And you're bound to find something you like in the readings, songs, preaching, and prayers. Listen for that and don't worry about the disagreeable. You can ignore what you don't need just as you ignore the ads and commercials of your radio, television, and Internet. God wants you here; I want you here; and -- besides -- you're happy here!

Catholics sometimes describe themselves as cafeteria Catholics. They don't buy everything the Church says but the dear old religion is familiar and comfortable and we've been sitting in this very same pew forever. 

But the saints remind us that, when you pick and choose the doctrines you like, you're not listening to God. Your mind is critical and your ear is guarded. Your god is your belly, it only takes what it wants.  

Jesus's familiarity on that strange Saturday morning, coupled with the epiphany they'd just experienced, was a huge part of his message. You don't have to be what you're not; you don't have to be a champion, a hero, or a super-being. Nor should you plumb the ocean or scale the heights in your search for holiness. "I will come to you! I have come to you!"  

Temple of Minerva

When he designed the frescoes in Assisi the Renaissance artist Giotto placed familiar images of Jesus on one side of the basilica and familiar stories of Saint Francis on the other. Since Francis had been born and lived most of his life in that town, the images of buildings and trees were local. One fresco shows Francis standing in front of the Temple of Minerva, the ancient Roman structure, which was only steps away from the shrine. To this day you can walk down the street and compare the original to the artist's rendition. 

On the other side of the church, Jesus stands among the same olive and sycamore trees, which are common to the Mediterranean basin. Suddenly, the visitor sees that the Son of God lived in our world; he was not simply a denizen of the golden streets of Paradise. And Mary, the Queen of Heaven, was also familiar with the dirt and grime of local streets. 

The frescoes announced, God has "pitched his tent among us.", (John 1:14) He comes to our world and insists that we meet him on his terms and not our own. The Nazarenes in today's gospel were not prepared for that.  

The Son of Joseph and Mary heard the same divine command from the Prophet Jeremiah that we heard this morning, "Gird your loins; stand up and tell them all that I command you." Obediently and fearlessly, he stood before his family, friends, and neighbors, and announced his presence and his mission as the anointed one, the Messiah. He must bring glad tidings to the poor. 

We too are anointed to bring the same glad tidings to the ignored, neglected, and poor. Catholics can no more hide their love of God and the Church than Jesus could hide from his people in Nazareth. Conformity is no safe place for us.