0203 A PROPHET WITHOUT HONOR

A PROPHET WITHOUT HONOR

IN today’s reading we find Jesus back in his hometown of Nazareth, doing miracles and teaching with authority. He was doing the same thing He had been doing all around Galilee, and the crowds grew with every action. But here in the town where he had grown up, it was a very different reception. Here, it says, “they took offense at him.” After all, they knew him as “the carpenter’s son.” They knew his mother, Mary. They knew his brothers and sister. So, in Nazareth, the very things that strengthened faith everywhere else caused doubt. And Jesus marveled, he was amazed, as we noted a few days ago.

How could that be? Jesus summarizes the truth in a sentence. He says, “A prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and in his own household.” A prophet is not without honor. That’s a double negative, I suppose. He’s saying a prophet is honored everywhere, because what he says and does comes from God. So crowds follow. Women provide support. People bow down and worship. Hearts rejoice. And behind closed doors, the conversation is marveling at the great things of God. The prophet is not without honor, to be sure.

But not here. Here, they think they know his limits, because they saw him when he was a toddler, before he knew how to read. They saw him as an awkward young teen, still growing into manhood. They saw his mom and his siblings at the grocery store, and they saw his first attempts at helping Joseph with carpentry projects. This could not be the Messiah. Nathaniel had asked it: “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” But here in Nazareth, the question went unanswered.

This young upstart was getting too big for his britches, they might say. Did he think he was too good for them? He wasn’t doing those things when he was a kid. We’re proud that a local became a celebrity, but around here nobody asks for an autograph, because we want to keep him in his place, let him know that we are all deserving of his celebrity status, I guess. I mean, I was the one who taught him to haltingly memorize the Scriptures he now quotes so freely. Or I helped him when he was sick as a youngster, and now he thinks he can come in here and better me by overriding my authority as the local medical expert. Why not put our names up in lights? Didn’t Jesus himself say that a student is not above his teacher?

Jesus also said that a prophet is not without honor except in his own household. And, sure enough, we find that his mother and brothers come to get him and bring him back home because they conclude that he has lost his mind, living with that crazy schedule and workload of his. We also find his brothers come to see him to give him some career advice to go to Jerusalem and make himself known at the feast there. They were saying that because they didn’t believe in him, and they treated him as a person who wanted to become a famous personality, not as if he were coming to bear the sins of the world on his shoulders.

So, Mark writes here, “And he did not do many mighty works there, because of their unbelief.” Jesus could not perform miracles, because the people viewed him differently, scrutinizing his actions and being offended by his authority.

It caused me to remember my own insight into this truth, after the fact. I want to share it with you here. I became the music minister of my home church when I was in college and seminary. It was at that church that I met Ellen, and where she and I were married. We were loved and respected there. I was even elected a deacon in the church. But my position there was part-time, and as we were expecting our first child, it was clear that I needed to find a full-time ministry. I did, and we moved to Illinois to settle in as the Minister of Music and Drama at Central Christian Church of Rockford.

Within a few weeks of moving there, I went to my first joint board meeting, and then to a meeting with the elders. I had never been invited to be in an elders’ meeting before, and it was quite an honor to be there.

That’s where it happened. They were all talking about something. I don’t remember what it was. In any case, after the idea had been kicked around the room, I had some idea to add to the conversation. And the most shocking thing happened: the elders all listened to what I said, and the whole direction of the meeting shifted as they said, “That’s a good idea.” 

I was in shock. They . . . Listened . . . To me! That had never happened before.

A few months later at my ordination back at my home church, I mentioned my experience to one of the elders there. He simply said, “A prophet is not without honor except in his hometown among his own people.” And I saw that he was right.

I had been loved. On a certain level, I had been respected. But I was not really “honored” because they knew the boy that I had been. But these new people, strangers to me, treated me as if I had earned a seat at the table, not as if they were doing me a favor to allow me to sit there.

That’s my first story. But we will visit this concept again in a later month, so I won’t belabor it.