It was all going so well. As he expounded on the Sabbath reading, Jesus’ hometown synagogue crowd was with him. They were pumped, actually. This is our guy—and he’s a PROPHET. Who says a prophet never came from Galilee? (Jn 7:52) Who says nothing good ever comes from Nazareth? (Jn 1:46) Joseph’s son is all grown up, and he’s a PROPHET!
Then everything goes wrong. And before we know it, the crowd has hauled Jesus out of the synagogue, out of town, and to the edge of a cliff. They plan to stone him and throw him over, but Jesus “passes through” the crowd and continues “on his way.”
What happened?
Jesus told them a story. Well, two stories wrapped up with a new twist.
Here’s what Jesus says:
“And I can assure you that there were many widows in Israel during Elijah’s time, when it didn’t rain for three and a half years and there was a great food shortage in the land. Yet Elijah was sent to none of them but only to a widow in the city of Zarephath in the region of Sidon. There were also many persons with skin diseases in Israel during the time of the prophet Elisha, but none of them were cleansed. Instead, Naaman the Syrian was cleansed.” —Luke 4:25-27 (CEB)
Just like those people in Nazareth, many of us know these as beloved Bible stories. Elijah helps out a widow and her son who are running out of food with unending oil and flour. Elisha demonstrates God’s power to a foreign general, asking him to “have faith” and do absurd things like washing in the Jordan River seven times.
But Jesus’ re-telling isn’t innocent. In both, he makes plain what is hardly even implied in the originals: there were also hungry widows in trouble in Israel, and there were plenty of lepers in Israel, but the prophets went elsewhere. Oops.
And it may be worse than that. Jesus’ mention of the “three and a half” years it didn’t rain may not be innocent, either. 1 Kings says the famine ended “during the third year,” but by Jesus’ time, 3½ years was a load time period. (You know, 1260 days…) That’s the time period of persecution in Daniel 7 & 12, and it’s the time that the Antiochus IV Epiphane (a Syrian-Greek general) persecuted Israel and desecrated the temple—until the Maccabees rose up and defended Israel and freed themselves from Gentile rule. “3½ years” taps into memories of persecution by foreigners but also the pride of nationalism and resistance. And Jesus just triggered those memories right before saying that Elisha bypassed Israelite lepers to go help a Syrian general. Oops.
The crowd’s hopes of special treatment and hometown pride just took a major blow. Disappointment turns to outrage, and they run Jesus out of town and try to kill him.
Artfully, Luke’s opening story of Jesus’ ministry foreshadows his last. Jesus’ home-country crowds, incensed at the expansiveness of the Story Jesus insists on telling, will call for his death at Roman hands. This time they’ll get their way—except even then, Jesus will “pass through” death and continue on his way, down a road to Emmaus and then into a Spirit-filled, boundary-breaking Church in Luke’s Volume II.
But that “happy” outcome ought not keep us from pausing with the weightiness of this picture of an enraged hometown crowd. It suggests a theme Luke will be driving out throughout his Story of Jesus, especially in the stories Jesus tells:
“The paradox of the gospel, therefore, is that the unlimited grace that it offers so scandalizes us that we are unable to receive it.” (R. Alan Culpepper, New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary: Luke, 108)
In the hands of Jesus, stories are rarely “just stories.” Paradox is an apt word. These stories disturb, disorient, confuse, turn us inside-out and upside-down. And yes, that can be exhausting—but it does have its place. As Ellen White counseled early Adventists, “We have many lessons to learn, and many, many to unlearn.”
We unlearn, it seems to me, for the sake of making space in our minds and hearts for the scandalizing expansiveness of God’s gracious, embracing, redemptive love.
So it’s with this purpose that we turn to Jesus’ stories over the next 40 days. In many Christian communities, these weeks before the Passion Week are a time for intentional reflection.* Traditionally, it’s been “fasting”—or in more contemporary practice, “giving up something.” (In my home someone is turning off Facebook. Amen!)
Perhaps as we listen to Jesus’ stories for 40 days, it is an invitation to hold lightly what we “know” about the limits and boundaries of belonging in God’s Story—to be nudged and prodded by these stories to “unlearn” a certainty to which we cling.
That’s scary—I get it. Certainly none of us will be asked to let go of 40 things; maybe there will just be one for each of us, and 39 things to hold more tightly. Maybe.
Today we start off on the way with Jesus. The destination is Passion Week—4 Days with Jesus, April 18-21. As we go we’ll hear from members of our community, who will share reflections each day on Jesus’ stories in Luke’s Gospel. On Sabbaths, the sermons will center on a parable from Luke.
Whatever you’re carrying, wherever you find yourself, you’re invited on this journey. You can subscribe to receive daily reflections in your inbox at lasierrachurch.flocknote.com/blog, or check the website each day www.lasierra.church/blog. As we go on the way, be well.
*If you’re working out the math, Sabbaths don’t count in the 40 Days; on Sabbath, we even rest from our “fasting”(!).