Be not Afraid of Your Prophet

To the church in the diaspora[1]

January 21, 2007: Third Sunday of the year

Nehemiah 8:2-4a,5-6,9-10 I Corinthians 12:12-30 Luke 1:1-4;4:14-21

Also

January 28, 2007: Fourth Sunday of the year

Jeremiah 1:4-5,17-19 I Corinthians 12:31-13:13 Luke 4:21-30

Introduction

Half a story

One Sabbath Jesus went to his hometown synagogue in Nazareth. He rose to read from the prophet Isaiah, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has chosen me to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim release for prisoners, to restore sight to the blind... and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord" (Is 61:1-2; Lk 4: 16-21). Today’s gospel reading then ends with these words, “Rolling up the scroll, he handed it back to the attendant and sat down, and the eyes of all in the synagogue looked intently at him. He said to them `Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing’” (Lk 4:21-22).

Today’s gospel (Lk 4: 14-21) begins to tell a story but never finishes it! It’s finished only with the reading of next Sunday’s gospel (Lk 4: 21-30) which takes as its very first line the very last line of today’s gospel. (It’s not easy to figure out why who design the liturgical readings would choose to tell half a story today and then the other half next Sunday.) Today’s first half of the story in itself doesn’t add up to much. At worse it gives the impression that something pleasant and positive is happening in Jesus’ hometown synagogue that Sabbath. That’s a light year away from what really happened that day.

A positive start…

This Sunday’s half of the story seems to end on a pleasant and positive note: “The eyes of all in the synagogue looked intently at him. He said to them `Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing’” (Lk 4:21-22). Next Sunday’s gospel reading takes up this last line and continues on the same positive note saying, “And all spoke highly of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth” (Lk 4: 21). Other translations read, “All marveled at the beautiful words that came from his lips" or "All were filled with admiration for him" (Lk 4: 22). But that positive note doesn’t last very long. The mood swiftly changes. Soon some of the hometown folk are having second thoughts about this local son of theirs who reads Scripture so impressively in their synagogue. They find themselves asking, “Isn’t he the son of Joseph?” (Lk 4: 22).

In Mark’s gospel the local folk ask, “Isn’t he the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas, and Simon? Aren’t his sisters living here?” Then Mark says, “And they would not accept him” (Mk 6: 2-3). The more free-styling translation of the Living Bible, which strives to inject understandable meanings into Scripture texts, reads,

The next Sabbath Jesus went to the synagogue to teach, and the people were astonished at his wisdom and his miracles because he was just a local man like themselves. “He’s no better than we are,” they said. “He’s just a carpenter, Mary’s boy, and a brother of James and Joseph, Judas and

Simon. And his sisters live right here among us.” And so they were offended!

Today’s English Version reads, “And so they rejected him” (Mk 6: 2-3).

…turns into a ferocious fury

In next Sunday’s half of the story Jesus notices the congregants’ negative feelings about himself, and he says to them, “You probably would like to quote me the proverb `Physician cure thyself.’ You probably would like to say to me, `Do here in your hometown the miracles you do in Capernaum’” (Lk 4:23). Then Jesus makes things worse for himself when he tells the locals that prophets are never well-received in their own hometowns and by their own people. That's why, he says, they have to go somewhere else to be appreciated. He cites the example of the prophet Elijah who in a time of famine didn't help Jewish widows but did help a foreigner—a widow from Sidon. He cites also the example of Prophet Elisha who didn't cure Jewish lepers but did cure a foreigner—a leper from Syria. (That’s all in next Sunday’s gospel reading -- Lk 4:21-30).

But this Sunday’s half of the story (seemingly ending on a pleasant and positive note) turns very mean and ugly and almost deadly in the rest of the story next Sunday! When the people in the synagogue heard Jesus’ words about the bad reception that prophets get in their hometowns, they were all filled with an insane fury. They rose up, drove him out of the town and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built. There they were going to throw him over a cliff, but he slipped away on them (Lk 4: 28-30).

Ferocious religious people

The whole story which begins this Sunday but ends next Sunday gives us pause: we wonder how in the world can so-called religious people, who go to synagogues and churches and mosques, be stirred up to a ferocious fury which is ready to throw human beings (prophets) over a cliff; or ready to burn human beings (heretics) at the stake; or ready to bury 3,000 human beings (infidels) in a ruble of deadly hate on a beautiful September day? Religion, at its worst, makes us terrorists inflicting mortal wounds. At its best, it makes us Good Samaritans healing wounds.

An incredibly short distance

The whole story which begins this Sunday but ends next Sunday gives us pause: we marvel at the incredibly short distance which lies between admiration and fury, and how easily admiration can pass into fury. At one moment everyone in the synagogue is “speaking highly of Jesus” and “drinking in the gracious words that fall from his lips” (vs 22). Minutes later, the synagogue turns into an insanely infuriated mob which springs to its feet and drives Jesus out of town, where they intend to throw him over a cliff (vs. 28-29).

Your prophet

The whole story which begins this Sunday but ends next Sunday gives us pause: don’t throw your prophet over a cliff! Your prophet is the one sent to tell you something you need to hear, but because you don’t want to hear it, it infuriates you. Your prophet is the one sent to show you something new, but because the new is always hard and the old is always easy, it infuriates you. Your prophet is the one sent to tell you something that will make you think, but because not thinking is so much easier than thinking, it infuriates you. Your prophet is the one sent to speak to you about something that is meaningful and has a relevancy for your life, but because that robs his message of it harmlessness, strange to say, that, too, infuriates you. Don’t throw your prophet over a cliff. Instead, give him welcome, for he wishes to render you a great service (Mt 10:41).

The prophet Küng

Fr. Hans Küng is a German Swiss theologian. In a little volume (remarkably small for a man known for voluminous and scholarly works filled with German thoroughness) Küng, writes, “I cannot believe:

A. that he, who warned the Pharisees against laying intolerable burdens on people’s shoulders would today declare all artificial contraception to be mortal sin;

B. that he, who particularly invited failures to his table, would forbid all remarried divorced people ever to approach that table;

C. that he, who was constantly accompanied by women (who provided for his keep), and whose apostles, except for Paul, were all married and remained so, would today have forbidden marriage to all ordained men and ordination to all women;

D. that he, who said `I have compassion on the crowd,’ would have increasingly deprived congregations of their pastors and allowed a system of pastoral care built up over a period of a thousand years to collapse. (Is he speaking about our shortage of priests and our funny creations like the ”Church of the Three Holy Women?”)

E. that he, who defended the adulteress and sinners, would pass such harsh verdicts in delicate questions requiring discriminating and critical judgment, like pre-marital sex, homosexuality and abortion” (Why I am still a Christian by Hans Küng).

Hans Küng with his prophetic voice infuriates people, especially some in high places in the church. People in high places have their own way of expressing their fury. It isn’t raw; it’s refined. They wouldn’t think of throwing Küng over a cliff, but they did revoke his right to teach Catholic theology.

Don’t throw Fr. Hans Küng over a cliff. Instead, give him welcome, for he wishes to render you a great service (Mt 10:41).

The prophet Gumbleton

Thomas J. Gumbleton, formerly an auxiliary bishop in Detroit, is no fly-by-night. He is the founding president of Pax Christi USA, a Catholic peace movement. From 1976-1984, he was president of Bread for the World, an interfaith organization that fights world hunger. In 1983 he helped draft a landmark pastoral letter of the U.S. bishops entitled, The Challenge of Peace: God’s Promise and Our Response. Gumbleton has a brother Dan who is gay, got married and had children. The bishop’s mother one day asked Gumbleton whether Dan, her son and his brother, was going to hell. In 1997 the bishop initiated and co-authored a pastoral letter of the US Catholic Bishops entitled Always Our Children. It is a message to the parents of homosexual children with suggestions for pastoral ministers.

In a presentation on May 25, 2002, in Lexington, MA, Gumbleton said, “We must further the steps we took in our pastoral letter Always Our Children to overcome the homophobia within our culture and within the Church. We must be a truly welcoming community for homosexual people.... Always Our Children pointed out that homosexuals are a gift to the Church, and we should not marginalize them and push them aside.”

In America magazine for Nov. 20, 1963, he is quoted as saying, "I can vouch for the fact that very many bishops share the same conviction (that not every contraceptive act is intrinsically evil). However, sadly enough, fewer and fewer are willing to say this publicly.” He also predicted that, “Priestesses will inevitably come. Already, female parochial administrators are proving their competency and laying the groundwork for the ordination of women.”

Bishop Gumbleton with his prophetic voice infuriates people, especially some in high places in the church. People in high places have their own way of expressing their fury. It isn’t raw; it’s refined. They wouldn’t think of throwing Gumbleton over a cliff. Instead he never got any higher on the ecclesiastical ladder than auxiliary bishop of Detroit, and, despite his young spirit and good health, his resignation at the required age of retirement was accepted with remarkable speed!

Conclusion

“Nolite timere”

Be not afraid

The whole story which begins this Sunday but ends next Sunday gives us pause. At the end of the day our insane fury at prophets is perhaps more fear than anything. The task is to name our fear. When some prophet tells us that priestesses are sure to come or that homosexuals are a gift to the church and shouldn’t be marginalized, and that fills us with fury (which is more fear than anything) what, we ask, is that fear all about? We must name our fear. When some prophet tells us that Jesus, who defended the adulteress and sinners, would not pass harsh verdicts in delicate matters like pre-marital sex or homosexuality, and that fills us with fury (which is more fear than anything) what, we ask is that fear all about? We must name our fear.

“Be not afraid” is a wonderful endless refrain in the New Testament.

“Be not afraid, Zachariah.

Your aged wife Elizabeth will bear a son

and his name will be John“ (Lk 1:13).

“Be not afraid, Mary.

God has been gracious to you.

You will conceive and bear a son

and call him Emmanuel” (Lk 1:30-31).

“Be not afraid, Joseph.

Take Mary as your wife

for she has conceived of the Holy Spirit” (Mt 1:20).

“Be not afraid, you shepherds.

I bring you tiding of great joy:

this day is born to you a savior” (Lk 2:10)

“Be not afraid, little flock.

It has please your Father

to give you the Kingdom” (Lk 12:32).

We must name our fear, and then we must let that wonderful endless New Testament refrain of ours flow over it. It will help to wash away our fury and our need to throw the prophet sent us over a cliff.

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[1] Diaspora is a Greek word meaning dispersion. Originally it referred to the settling of scattered colonies of Jews outside Palestine after the Babylonian exile. It’s now come to mean the migration or scattering of a people away from an established or ancestral homeland or parish.