February 2, 2025
Luke 4:21-30
Introduction
When was the last time Jesus just really ticked you off? Have you ever been angry at Jesus for something he said or did? What was it about? Have you ever been so filled with rage at Jesus you wanted to throw him off a cliff? Anyone?
I’ve not seen or heard that kind of anger at Jesus from any of you—and while I’ve been angry with Jesus from time to time, I’ve never had the kind of rage that made me what to throw him off a cliff. And yet, the people in today’s Gospel are filled with rage at what Jesus has said. They’re so angry that they didn’t write a sternly worded email or call a meeting in the synagogue parking lot—no no. They drove Jesus out of town with the full intent of throwing him off a cliff. Now as a preacher I’ve ruffled more than a few feathers. I’ve had people get up and walk out on my sermon. I’ve had sternly worded emails written to Board and Elder chairpersons. But I’ve never had anyone try to throw me off a cliff. I’m sure some have thought about it, but thankfully never attempted.
All of this raises some questions for me… First, why exactly is this happening to Jesus, of all people? What exactly is he saying that’s causing so much provocation? And secondly, as a preacher myself, why am I not causing so much provocation? And lastly, as followers of Jesus, why are we not causing so much provocation?
Move 1
This text, these questions, my preparation for this message got me wonder… If we really took to heart what Jesus says and does, how could we not get angry? Think about it…“If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.” (Matthew 5:39)
“Sell all that you own and distribute the money to the poor.” (Luke 18:22)
“Love your enemies” (Matthew 5:44) and, forgive “seventy-seven times” (Matthew 18:22) “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” (Mark 8:34) “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26) “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.” (Matthew 25:41-44) “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mark 9:35)
Sure, these are nice ideals; good principles to teach our children; gracious words of sacrifice and humility, but they aren’t exactly practical or relevant in a world where individualism reigns, where peace is about superior firepower, where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, where what you have determines who you are…right? Or…is that wrong?
How is that we can come here every Sunday, week after week, month after month, year after year, listen to what Jesus says and does, and never get upset about it when we look at ourselves or our world? Why don’t you and I get as angry at Jesus as the people in today’s Gospel? Do we not believe Jesus means what he says? Do we think his words don’t apply to us? Do we just want to come to church but not really follow the way of Jesus?
Anyone thinking about throwing me off a cliff? If not, give me a few more minutes.
Move 2
At first, the people hear the truth from Jesus in his reading of Scripture and preaching, they respond with amazement. But it doesn’t take long for Jesus’ message to ruffle more than a few feathers of the congregation’s inner narrative and beliefs. Somehow for the people, the good news—that came from the prophets and now from Jesus— of being rescued from poverty and oppression has become tied up in a national identity and a culture of defining success and power in a specific way—giving the people a picture in their heads of what they would do for themselves if they had such power. But Jesus’ preachment upsets this picture, bringing a sense of demand, a rebuke of their entitlement, and a revelation of humanity’s sinful tendency toward selfishness.
They hear the Good News Jesus preached, and their hearts are all a flutter for the hometown boy, but then the “wait a minute” comes. “Wait a minute… Isn’t this the carpenter’s son? What does he know about relieving poverty? He was born in a manger. What does he know about setting prisoners free? He doesn’t have any real power. What does he know about giving sight to the blind? There’s a ‘miracles and healing’ market to be capitalized upon, yet he’s here in Nazareth talking to us for free. This guy is a fraud. We need to run him out of town…and throw him off a cliff.”
In other words, if Jesus had real power, he’d have been born among the powerful. If Jesus was something special, he’d have made something of himself by now. He’d be baptizing backsides and taking names against the foreign powers. And he’d most definitely be rich and famous. But instead, he’s just an SoC— son of a carpenter, no more special than anyone else. He’s all talk and interested in the wrong show.
*******
Something happened to the people in the synagogue that day. At first “all spoke well of Jesus and were amazed.” But then he kept on preaching “and all in the synagogue were filled with rage.” So enraged “they drove him out of town … so that they might hurl him off the cliff.”
They realized Jesus wasn’t just talking to them, he was talking about them. And he really did mean what he said.
They heard his answer to W.W.J.D. and it terrified them because it was not at all what they were doing or willing to do.
They experienced the power of the Gospel that offends, provokes, and makes the hearer uncomfortable.
They realized Jesus was turning their world upside down and it was no longer business as usual.
They heard Jesus calling them to change and do life differently.
Move 3
In our text from last week, Luke tells us Jesus is described as being full of the Holy Spirit—the presence of which we see at work in verse 23 as Jesus senses the change happening in the people’s minds by speaking what they are thinking. Jesus’ revelation of their inner narrative calls out their entitlement and selfishness when he tells them they will quote the Proverb about how doctors have the ability to cure themselves, but yet he proclaims himself the fulfillment of God’s power and has nothing to show for it, and therefore perhaps all they have heard about Jesus is nothing more than rumors.
All of it is an early example of the challenge Jesus faces throughout his entire ministry. His invitation to the riches of the Kingdom and of God’s grace are in stark contrast to what the people have decided the Word of God means for them. They have let the cultural-factors and fixations have too much influence over the meaning of the sacred promises. They truly are poor and blind, unable to recognize the Word made flesh and dwelling among them. They didn’t expect this kind of Messiah; therefore, they can’t believe in what they did not expect. They demand what they expect; therefore, they can’t trust anything different. They’ve become accustomed to dictating what’s acceptable; therefore, they can’t receive what Jesus is offering. They are convinced they know best; therefore, they won’t listen to God—not through the prophets and not even through the living embodiment of God.
Any of this feel familiar? Anyone want to throw me off a cliff yet?
Move 4
All of this has me wondering about us Jesus followers today. Maybe we’re so familiar with the stories about Jesus that we can no longer hear them. We know the stories and what’s going to happen, so we no longer hear the challenge, the critique, or the invitation to transformation or provocation.
Maybe we assign Jesus’ Gospel to Sunday mornings and our individual politics to the rest of the week—forgetting, denying, or refusing to see that his Gospel is to be our politics. Maybe we assume the answer to W.W.J.D. is the same as what we, our church, our country, or our party would do. Maybe we still think we can serve two masters. Maybe individualism, materialism, and party loyalty are the real trinity in our life. Maybe we’ve domesticated Jesus and softened the Gospel so we can remain comfortable, privileged, and in control. Maybe we’ve traded a life of sacrifice for success, a life of meaning for approval, a life of humility for popularity.
I don’t know if any of these describe what’s going on in you, but admittedly I’m all tangled up in them. Those are some of my struggles. Because I used to think something was wrong with the people of our text for getting angry at Jesus. If they were more faithful and really believed, then they wouldn’t have gotten angry or enraged. But now I’m wondering if something is wrong with me for not getting angry, for not getting enraged. Maybe they’re angry because they are faithful and really do believe. Maybe they got Jesus’ point, and I’ve missed it. Maybe they were really listening that day, paying attention, and I’m not. After all, living as Jesus calls is not easy or comfortable—and someone telling us, demanding us, provoking us to live in such a way… well we might just want to throw them off a cliff ourselves.
Conclusion
I know I’ve wondered a lot in this sermon. But there’s one more thing I’m wondering about…
What if the next time we hear the Gospel, we opened ourselves to being made uncomfortable, to being provoked a bit?
What if instead of looking for and sharing our closest moment with Christ, we told others about the moments we were most angry at Christ?
I’m talking about the kind of anger that makes us look at ourselves with brutal honesty, that helps us realize what really matters, that energizes us to do things differently.
What if this kind of anger at Jesus is the beginning of discipleship?
What would it take for you and me to be as angry at Jesus today as the people were that day in Nazareth?
What would it take for you and me to be so enraged that we’d want to throw Jesus of a cliff? Amen.
Pastoral Prayer, February 2, 2025
God of all life, you have blessed us abundantly. And on those days when we can see your blessings, feel them, embrace them, revel in their joyful delight, our minds, hearts, and spirits are full of praise for you who is so good to us. You meet us in our times of need, and bless us with your Son who came to set us free; to lift us up from lowliness to holiness; forgiving us of our sins and promising eternal life. We cannot thank you enough for these blessings that you give, and we receive.
We don’t know what we would do without your blessings. And yet, we admit we will go without them—sometimes often. Your blessings are there always, but they are to be received—in all forms you give them. Whether they come in the form of peace and comfort, or as a challenge, or a call for repentance, or even the command to live in ways counter to our culture.
We know your blessings are to be embodied, but we know too, they cannot be molded to conform to our checklists. Your blessings are to bring freedom and favor and healing to our lives, and the lives of all your children, if we would only believe in what you have been telling us for thousands of years. Your blessings are all around us, in so many ways, waiting for us to receive, but like the people in Nazareth, we will too often turn our noses up from them.
Help us through this struggle to believe that your ways and wisdom are best. Help us to know that the ways of this world, that our way and vision, is not always yours. Help us to hear you, and receive your blessings, in all forms—especially the blessings that implore us to live like Jesus.
Hear now, we humbly ask, the prayers from deep within our hearts, as we lift them to you in the time of Holy Silence.
All this we pray in the name of the one who came to free us from the ways of the world, and bless us in the ways of you our Creator, Christ Jesus, our Lord, who taught us to pray, saying, “Our…”