Toward Sunday, January 31, 2016

Readings:

Luke 4:21-30 (The end of the story begun last week, about Jesus reading and preaching in his hometown of Nazareth.  Things started well, with all amazed at how he made the Scripture and the promise of God's blessing come alive.  But things turn ugly when Jesus reminds his listeners that the blessings are not so much for them, as for people outside their circle.  Feeling spurned by their hometown boy, they almost throw him off a cliff in their rage.)

I Corinthians 13 (The congregation in Corinth is terribly divided -- different factions each presenting themselves as the more gifted, and as the real backbone of the church.  So after putting them in their respective places through the early parts of his letter, Paul now answers the question they all have been fighting about.  He tells them what really is the greatest gift of all -- love.)

After worship last week someone was talking with me about how slow in developing the momentum seems to be in our area for helping Syrian refugees.  After an initial outburst of compassion and a rush to form an inter-church support network to sponsor at least one, and maybe more Syrian families, the issue seems not to have gained much traction beyond the small circle first engaged.

Is that true?

This stands in such contrast to the response a generation and more ago, to the crisis faced by the Vietnamese boat people.  As soon as their plight became widely known, this congregation and many others quickly mobilized and stayed engaged over the long haul in sponsoring a family, supporting them, and befriending them into the community in relationships that persist to this day.

Why the difference?

Is it because we now face more anxious and less secure circumstances ourselves?  And because of that, feel less generous and open?

I know I close up into self-defensive and even aggressive mode when I feel insecure about myself.  Just ask any of my family, or members of the congregation I work with. 

And it's only when I practice what I have learned about centering and rooting myself in the gracious love of God for all life, that I am able to become more open, patient, collegial and compassionate.

So I really can't be too critical of the people of Nazareth when they react with offence and rage to Jesus' apparent openness to help everyone but them -- to help "those people" of Capernaum (a "dirty" town if there ever was one!) before helping them (the good, faithful folks of the Nazareth synagogue who saw him through all the turmoil of his growing up).  Don't they need and deserve help, too?  What's the point of the messiah being their home town boy, if it doesn't get them some cred at the heavenly blessings desk?

Really ... what is the point of being in with Jesus, if "in" is not where the blessings flow?