The twentieth day of Lent: Walking through fury

Luke 4 from verse 24 is today’s lectionary gospel: 

²⁴And he said, ‘Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s home town. ²⁵But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up for three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; ²⁶yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. 

27 Again, there were many lepers Israel during the time of Elisha the prophet; yet not one of them was cleansed, but only Naaman the Syrian.” 28 When the people in the synagogue heard this, they were all filled with fury. 29 They rose up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town had been built, to hurl him down headlong. 30 But he passed through the midst of them and went away.

When are we Jesus, prophesying God’s word? 

When are we the people in the furious crowd, driving away those who show us ourselves?

In today’s gospel, Jesus passes through the midst of fury—he does not confront it, does not accept it, does not hide from it, and does not argue with it. That “midst” part frightens me because as someone who often feels caught in the middle of the prophets and crowds, I seek controllable ways to react and respond.

Jesus relinquishes any control. He does not fight to mend broken relationships. He passes through them. We know that Jesus does not stop his ministry either, continuing to prophesy good news so radical it leads to his betrayal, torture, and execution.

Jesus is familiar with his own people and at the same time, His townspeople knew Him too. As the Son of God, He was aware of the disbelief and hardness of heart of His own tribe. Yet he did not mind the familiarity of His people nor their hostility to hinder Him from doing His mission. He had the courage to do what He needs to do, even if it means antagonizing a lot of people.

Jesus believes so adamantly in his message that he dies because of it. Still, he never attacks, never diminishes, and never forces his ideas, instead allowing his executioners to assert their ideas with “you say that it is so.” Even at his trial before death, Jesus remains silent amid the crowd, allowing them to accuse and rival him.

Jesus’ humility is so pure that, even to the point of death, he does not demand recognition or reverence for who he is. In our hometown spaces, I pray that, as prophets, we walk boldly yet calmly in the midst as Christ does, and as part of a crowd, we recognize Christ in our neighbours.