Fr. Manuel João, comboni missionary
Sunday Reflection
from the womb of my whale, ALS
Our cross is the pulpit of the Word
The First Apostolic Failure of Jesus
Year B – Ordinary Time – 14th Sunday
Mark 6:1-6: “Jesus came to his hometown”
Today we find Jesus in Nazareth. Months earlier, his family, concerned about the rumours circulating about him, had gone down to Capernaum, where Jesus had established his new residence, intending (unsuccessfully) to bring him back home. Now it is Jesus himself who takes the initiative to return to his hometown. It was a journey of about fifty kilometres and an ascent of seven hundred metres, so it was not a small walk. Why does he do it? We can think of very human motivations, such as seeing his family, being with friends, spending a few days resting in the environment where he grew up… But there must have been deeper reasons as well, like presenting his new family, the Twelve, and announcing the good news of the Kingdom in his village too. We can imagine that the welcome was friendly and even enthusiastic. Jesus was one of them, certainly well-liked by all. The situation, however, changes radically on the Sabbath day when everyone gathered in the humble synagogue of Nazareth.
Let us also go to Nazareth, not as passive spectators, but seeking to relate to the protagonists in the story. Let us particularly consider the three groups present: the inhabitants of Nazareth, the twelve disciples who accompanied Jesus, and the group of close family members, with Mary, the mother of Jesus, at the forefront.
From Wonder to Scandal
Jesus had attended that synagogue for thirty years, but this time there was an air of particular expectation. His fame had now spread throughout Galilee, and in his village, everyone was wondering what was happening because they knew Jesus well and could not explain what was being said about him. They knew he had not studied, was not a rabbi: why was he presenting himself with a following of twelve disciples?! He had calloused carpenter’s hands: why now did he lay those hands on the sick and heal them?! He was one of them, of humble origin, from a remote village that promised nothing good: how had he become famous, and his name spread from mouth to mouth?! They knew him well, but they did not recognise him at all in the guise of the “prophet of Nazareth”!
“He began to teach in the synagogue.” As was his custom, the evangelist Luke specifies, placing this episode at the beginning of Jesus’ preaching, as his programmatic discourse (Luke 4:16-30). Luke says in his account that “the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him” (v. 20) and that, at his first words, all “were amazed at the gracious words that came from his lips” (v. 22). The beginning, therefore, seemed to herald a good reception, as was happening almost everywhere. However, Mark and Matthew (13:54-58) express themselves more cautiously, saying that the people “were astonished.” Indeed, his fellow villagers remained more perplexed than amazed. In the murmuring of the assembly, three comments of doubt and distrust emerge regarding the origin of his words, his wisdom, and his miracles. This is followed by four rhetorical and disdainful questions about his identity, regarding his profession, his mother, his brothers, and his sisters. “Who does he think he is?” they said among themselves. And from wonder, they moved to scandal: “And they took offence at him,” that is, he became a stumbling block for them!
We are faced with a tangle of feelings that is not easy to unravel, a mix of wonder and admiration, jealousy and envy, doubt and suspicion, opposition and contradiction, eventually turning into indignation and rejection. How can we explain this drastic change? If we have the courage to delve into our own hearts, we can understand it. The fellow villagers of Jesus are a mirror reflecting many of our behaviours. How many times have we closed our minds and hearts to an uncomfortable truth, crafting a whole chain of reasoning? How many times have we relied on judgments and prejudices to neutralise a novel message that bothered us? How many times have we thought: “but look who’s talking!”? How many of us willingly accept a “prophetic voice” that questions and challenges us? We accept prophets better when they are dead!
The Disciples’ Dismay and Shock
What must the group of Twelve have experienced? The text does not say, but we can imagine. They too had expectations of Jesus. They were proud of their Master and expected to witness another of his successes. Thus, they were dismayed to see the turn of events. James of Alphaeus and Judas Thaddeus, two cousins of Jesus who knew well the parochialism of their fellow villagers, must have inwardly deplored that Jesus quoted that popular proverb “a prophet is not without honour except in his own town.” The other ten were likely shocked by this first failure of Jesus, right in his own home. A defeat they certainly did not expect. They too must have thought that Jesus should have been more cautious, less forthright, and more accommodating. So, the disciples discover that the mission of Jesus – and their mission – would not be all roses. And who knows if they thought of the prophecy of Ezekiel in today’s first reading (2:2-5): “The people to whom I am sending you are obstinate and stubborn.” Sometimes we think the prophet is a messenger sent to fail.
We too surely share the apostles’ view. Faced with the opposition and rejection of our world, we wonder if the Church should not be more accommodating on certain matters; if it should not lower the standard of its proposals; if it should not update itself, adapting to the sensibilities of the times. In our apostolic task, are we not also tempted to conform to the “politically correct”?
A Thorn in the Heart
What must have happened in the heart of Mary, the mother of Jesus? Surely a fog of pain and sadness enveloped it. Perhaps the prophecy of Simeon came to her mind: “A sword will pierce your own soul too.” (Luke 2:35). The memory of that Sabbath must have lodged in her heart like a thorn.
That thorn still pierces the heart of the Church, which suffers for its persecuted children, for the scandals that tarnish its testimony, for the estrangement of many of its sons and daughters, for the growing rejection of the gospel message…
This thorn is also embedded in our hearts. Our weakness is a cause of sadness, suffering, hindrance, and scandal for us. Like Paul, we too have asked the Lord to free us from this thorn, and he has answered: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (see the second reading, 2 Corinthians 12:7-10).
Fr. Manuel João Pereira Correia mccj
Verona, 5 July 2024
