Consistent Message (Luke 4: 21-30)

So.  The people of Nazareth wanted to throw Jesus off a cliff.  The people of his home village, the people who changed his diapers and who babysat him, the people who watched him grow, who knew him when he had zits … got so upset by what he said, that they literally wanted to kill him.

Do you want to know why?

I’ll tell you why.  But first, I’d like to tell you three short stories.  You may already know these stories.  All three were written at a time in history when the people of Israel were returning to their homeland after being forced out by the Babylonians.  It was a time of reconstruction, of re-establishment of the nation, a time of homeland pride and pride in Israel’s history; a time to reaffirm the ancient teachings on which the nation was built.

[And I need to tell you that my telling of these stories is based on a book I recently read called Parables of Jesus by Bible scholar John Dominic Crossan.]

The first story is about a young woman named Ruth.  Ruth lived in a place called Moab, which means she was a Moabite.  One day Ruth met a man who had immigrated to Moab with his family to escape a famine in the region surrounding Bethlehem, his hometown.  Ruth married him,  but unfortunately, he died shortly after the wedding.

When Ruth’s mother-in-law – who, like Ruth, was a widow – decided to return back to her home in Bethlehem, Ruth decided to go with her.  Ruth’s mother-in-law tried to convince Ruth to stay in Moab and make a new life for herself, but Ruth insisted on going with her mother-in-law, saying, “Wherever you go, I will go; your people shall be my people, and your God shall be my God.”

In Bethlehem, Ruth the Moabite eventually was able to remarry.  She married a man named Boaz.  They had children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren; and one of those great-grandchildren was David, who became the greatest king in Israel.

Now remember, I said that the story of Ruth was written during a time of reconstruction, a time of homeland pride.  It’s strange, then, that the hero of this story is not someone from Israel, but from a foreign land; in this case, the land of Moab.

This becomes even more significant when you consider that some of the ancient teachings on which Israel was established clearly forbid marrying people from Moab!  Deuteronomy 23:3 says:  “No Ammonite or Moabite shall be admitted to the assembly of the Lord.  Even to the tenth generation, none of their descendants shall be admitted to the assembly of the Lord.”

This verse from Deuteronomy could very easily have been used to justify rampant “Moab-phobia:” fear, discrimination, and prejudice against people from Moab and their descendants.  Most likely, this scripture was used to justify anti-Moabite prejudice.  The Israelites were rebuilding their nation, they were understandably skeptical of outsiders, and they could quote scripture to justify their prejudice and exclusion of outsiders.  “Even to the tenth generation.”

And yet, David was only the fourth generation from Moab.  And he became Israel’s greatest king.

The story of Ruth is a challenge to the Moab-phobia and prejudice of the time.  Probably, there were a lot of people who didn’t like the story.  Probably, there were a lot of people who could cite scripture verses and history as “proof” that God hated Moabites.  Probably, there were a lot of people who wanted to take whoever recited the story of Ruth the Moabite, and throw them off a cliff. 

Because the story of Ruth asks a question that directly challenges the old way of thinking.  The story of Ruth asks,   “How can you continue to justify your Moab-phobia and prejudice, when Israel’s greatest king is himself a child of Moab?”

Story #2. 

Jonah was a prophet of Israel during a time when the Assyrian Empire was strong and mighty.  The Assyrian Empire, you should know, was not an ally of Israel.  Another prophet, by the name of Nahum, called the capital of Assyria – Ninevah – a city of evil, a city of bloodshed, a city beyond redemption. 

The people of Israel did not like the people of Ninevah.

So at the time the story of Jonah was written, the people of Israel had developed a strong “Ninevah-phobia.”  And this “Ninevah-phobia” was justified by both history and scripture.

So when God tells Jonah to go to Ninevah, the capital of Assyria, Jonah says, “no way!  The people of Ninevah are evil, sinful people.” 

And Jonah travels in the opposite direction; but after surviving a shipwreck and spending three days in the belly of a giant fish, God eventually gets Jonah to Ninevah.  Because even the people of Ninevah belong to God, and God cares for them. 

And once Jonah gets to Ninevah, the people of that city immediately turn to God.

So the story of Jonah is another challenge, intended to encourage the people of Israel to overcome their prejudice and hatred of outsiders, of people who are different.

Story #3.

“Once upon a time there was a man named Job, who lived in the land of Uz.”

Well, maybe now you’ve figured out the pattern:  the people of Uz were no friends to Israel.  Even scripture condemns the people of Uz.  The prophet Obadiah wrote that, one day, God would destroy Uz. 

And so, based on the sacred writings of Obadiah, as well as their own fears, the people of Israel had developed a rather strong “Uz-phobia.”

What a challenge it must have been, then, to hear the story of Job, which begins by saying that the holiest man on earth was from the land of Uz.

The story of Job is deep and complex, and this is not the only challenge it contains.  Because when Job – the holiest man on earth – loses everything and suffers a great calamity, his friends come to him and say that his calamity is the result of some great sin in his past.  His friends point out that, after all, the 28^th chapter of Deuteronomy says “blessings shall come upon you if you obey the Lord your God,” but “if you will not obey the Lord your God… curses shall come upon you” [Deuteronomy 28:2, 25].

Obviously, Job’s friends interpret this scripture literally.  They can’t see any way around it, and so they assume that Job’s terrible misfortune is punishment for sin.  The challenge comes because anyone who hears this story knows that this is not the case:  Job is innocent, “the holiest man on earth.”  The friends are wrong.

But if Job’s friends are wrong, does that mean that the 28^th chapter of Deuteronomy is also wrong?  Is it okay to say that a particular verse of scripture … is wrong?

Near the end of this story, God even says to Job’s friends:  “My wrath is kindled against you, because you have not spoken what is right.”  But all they did was quote Deuteronomy!

This is a real challenge; not only for the people of Israel in centuries past, but for anyone, even in our time, who uses scripture to curse or condemn or put down another person, or to act in any way that is unloving.

Now, if the people of Nazareth had read and understood these stories and taken them to heart, I think maybe they wouldn’t have got so upset and tried to throw Jesus off a cliff.  But they were still stuck in the old mindset.  They’re minds were still stuck on a couple of verses from Deuteronomy, which they used to fuel their own fears and prejudice.

Because what did Jesus say?  Basically, he said that his mission was not just for the people of Nazareth, or even for the people of Israel.  He shared two stories of his own, about the prophets Elijah and Elisha, and how they were called to serve people beyond Israel, and that he was called to do the same.

But the people of Nazareth didn’t want to hear that.  They didn’t want to hear that those “other” people were also loved and accepted by God.  This message of inclusiveness was so offensive to them, that they tried to throw Jesus off a cliff.

I have one more story for you, one that Jesus himself told later in his ministry. 

There once was a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho.  On the way he was attacked by robbers.  They took his clothes, beat him up, and went off leaving him half-dead.

Luckily, a priest was on his way down the same road, but when he saw him he angled across to the other side.  Then a Levite religious man showed up, but he also avoided the injured man.

A Samaritan traveling the road came upon him.  Samaritans were as offensive to people in Jesus’ time as people of Moab, Ninevah, or Uz were to people in centuries past.  Everyone knew that Samaritans were no good, evil, sinful people who lived outside the grace of God.

Yes, Samara-phobia was mighty strong in Jesus’s day.

But the Samaritan in Jesus’s story, when he saw the injured man, his heart went out to him.  He gave him first aid, disinfecting and bandaging his wounds.  Then he lifted him onto his own donkey, led him to an inn, and made him comfortable.  He went above and beyond the call of duty.  In the morning, he paid the innkeeper a large sum of money, and said to the innkeeper, “I must go; take good care of this man.  If it costs more than this, put it on my bill; I will pay you on my way back.”

Jesus ended his telling of this story by asking, “Which of these three men became a good neighbor to the man attacked by robbers?”

The one listening to Jesus had to swallow his pride.  He had to put away his Samara-phobia in order to provide the correct answer:  “The one who treated him kindly.  The Samaritan.  He was the good neighbor.”

It is, perhaps, the most consistent message in both the Hebrew and Greek Scriptures:  put aside your prejudice, your hatred, and welcome the outsider in.  There are many other stories as well:  The Great Banquet.  The Ethiopian Eunuch.  Scripture makes the same point over and over and over again. 

It has to.  Because for so many of us, it’s a difficult, challenging lesson to learn.