Luke 4:14-21
“Familiarity That Doesn’t Breed Contempt”
There’s an old saying that says familiarity breeds contempt. That may be, but one thing is sure: at the very least familiarity often breeds unfamiliarity. Take a marriage for example. A man and a woman live together as husband and wife for 20 years. They are now each forty plus and thoroughly familiar with each other’s likes, dislikes, strengths, and weaknesses. One day unexpectedly, the realization sets in that even though they have been under the same roof for two decades, they no longer really know each other – they know everything about each other, yet not the real person. Familiarity can do that. Left unguarded it can breed unfamiliarity.
Consider this as it applies to Jesus. He is the boy next door in the town of Nazareth. Everybody in the neighborhood knows him well, Joseph and Mary’s son. Jesus is like most kids, really, although gifted. In fact, so gifted that early friends and family have pegged him for great things. That is why no one is surprised when, as a grown man of thirty, be begins a successful preaching and teaching career in Galilee. They had seen something like this coming.
The headline in the local paper reads, “Local Man Makes Good,” and goes on to report all the sensational facts about Jesus’ work the last 12 months. Spectacular healings. Spellbinding sermons. Captivating lectures and large crowds. Why, people are walking for miles and miles, so the paper reports, just to hear him speak and see him work wonders. And the best news of all is that next Sabbath he will be worshiping in him hometown synagogue – our synagogue!
The day arrives and the synagogue is full. Standing room only. Everybody wants to catch a glimpse of the young man that they have known for so long. The moment comes in the service when distinguished guests have their opportunity to speak on matters of faith and practice. Jesus stands and receives the sacred scroll, reverently placed in his hands by the scroll attendant. The mood is electric. Slowly, patiently, Jesus unrolls the scroll and begins to read from the prophet Isaiah:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed
me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to
proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to
the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the
year of the Lord’s favor” (Luke 4:18,19 NRSV).
Then, his reading finished, Jesus carefully hands the scroll back to the attendant and takes his seat. People are transfixed.
“He reads with such eloquence, such authority.”
Everyone wonders, “Where did he get it? We have known him since he was a boy. He was always bright, but he seems to have an uncommon wisdom about him.”
A protracted period of silence then follows until one person after another begins to whisper, “Is that all? Surely he is going to say something wise about the writings of the great prophet.”
And that is when Jesus does say something, something startling, in fact. But because they know him so well, the deeper significance of what he says utterly escapes them.
“Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (verse 21).
Interesting isn’t it? Sometimes we can know someone so well and yet know her or him so little. Familiarity can and often does breed unfamiliarity.
We may be inclined to read this account and think to ourselves rather smugly, “How could they have missed it? Were they blind?”
But then integrity demands that we think more deeply about what we are saying and we suddenly realize that who they were, we are.
We have been Christians for many years. We have known Jesus intimately. We grew up hearing about Jesus in Sabbath School, singing hymns about him in church, perhaps singing choruses in camp settings, and praying to him at meals and bedtime. He is our best friend, the one we can turn to on a moment’s notice with any issue that is on our hearts. Jesus is everything to us.
Or is he? Yes, we know Jesus well, but is it so well that we have shut ourselves down to the truth of who he really is and the demands he places on our lives? Have we lost our hold on the fact that this one that we so glibly call “friend” is also the creator and sustainer of the universe? Do we understand that he is the one who is before all things and through whom all things were made? Have we, in our familiarity, unwittingly reduced Jesus to our size, and in so doing diminished his demand for our obedience?
One of the remarkable things in the New Testament is that Jesus’ disciples did not let their familiarity with him diminish their awareness of who he was and what he expected from them. How did they manage not to have their familiarity with Jesus create unfamiliarity with Jesus?
Perhaps the best answer resides in the knowledge of what it takes to sustain a relationship. It takes desire. It takes effort and it takes discipline, not the kind that springs from obligation, but from the kind that springs from love. Our desire springs from Jesus’ love and our love for God – who knows us so well, even numbers the very hairs on our heads, and yet never loses touch with whom we really are. Amen.
PRAYER: O God of every new day, in the power of the Holy Spirit, you have called us to seize the day and proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. To those impoverished in spirit, help us to restore hope. To those who are prisoners to debilitating habits, help us to proclaim the freedom that comes from knowing you. To those who are blind to the glory of new possibilities, help us to be examples of grace. To those who are oppressed by injustice, help us to work so that justice and mercy may become realities. To those who live in darkness, help us to proclaim the dawning of a new day and to invite them to celebrate the joy of living in the power of your Holy Spirit, we pray in Jesus’ Name. Amen.
