Sermon for July 7, 2024 7th Sunday after Pentecost
Mark 6 Rejection of Jesus and Disciples
I grew up in the beautiful Skagit Valley, home of the tulip fields. My mom and dad still
comment on how they’ll be driving home from Seatac after a trip, and they’ll crest the top of
the hill at Conway and the then whole valley just opens up to you; and they always say no
matter where they have travelled there is nowhere as beautiful in the whole world. To quote
Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, “There’s no place like home.” Now, while to some, returning to
your hometown can be full of beauty and nostalgia (You can even buy a cheesy placard for
your living room that says, “Home is the starting place of love, hope and dreams.”), for others,
coming home, eh, it’s a little more complicated. I remember years ago when one of the
Lutheran churches in Mt. Vernon opened up for call and my mom was like, “You could come
home and be a pastor here!” And I was like, “Uh, no. These people knew me as a stupid kid.
They remember all the dumb stuff I did. You think they’d ever accept me as their pastor?”
Thomas Wolfe famously said, “You can never go home again.” And it is true insomuch as you
change, they change, but memory is a static thing. Even Taylor Swift, as mega-popular as she
is, said, “As supportive as my hometown is (she’s from Reading, Pennsylvania), in my High
School there are people who would probably walk up to me and punch me in the face.”
So in that light, did Jesus return to his hometown of Reading, Pennsylvania, with a naïve sense
of nostalgia? Or did he know he might get punched in the face? Maybe he thought they would
celebrate him and all the wonderful deeds of power he had done, the healings and casting out
demons. Jesus had certainly given them reason to celebrate his homecoming. Quite to the
contrary, no sooner had Jesus got up and preached in his hometown church in Nazareth than
they accused him, “Who does this Northern Yankee think he is?” Right? OK, so that’s the
movie “Sweet Home Alabama.” But really, they accuse him of getting too big for his britches.
“Who do you think you are? You think you’re better than us, now that you’re all famous and a
big deal? Besides, some of us remember that little business with your mommy and how she
wasn’t married when you were conceived.” You see, it was tradition and honorable to refer to
a man in that day as ‘son of his father.’ They should have called Jesus “Son of Joseph”; so when
they refer to him as “Son of Mary” this is really a startling dishonor. They are reminding him
that no one really knows who his daddy is and he might show up here thinking he’s a big deal,
but we all know he’s nothing but a bastard. And so they take offense at him. How dare he
think he can preach down to us. Their unbelief was so acute, it says it actually limited Jesus’
power to do healings in that place. Crazy, right?
You would expect Jesus to be nothing but celebrated in his hometown, heralded as local-boy-
makes-good, maybe even throw a parade in his honor. But for that matter, everywhere Jesus
goes there should be nothing but joyful receptions and faith overflowing like some old-
fashioned tent-revival. But it was never like that. Everywhere Jesus went he faced opposition,
rejection, even to the point of his own murder. And so what did the disciples expect? Maybe
they too were naively optimistic about the reception they would get when Jesus sent them out
into ministry, but Jesus warned them that when they were rejected they were to shake the
dust from their sandals as a testimony against them. He warned his disciples in no uncertain
terms, “If they persecuted me they will persecute you,” and again, “In this world you will have
trouble,” and finally, “If the world hates you it hated me first.” Christ expressly warns his
church that the work you do in this world will not be met with flowers and parades, but with
opposition and rejection. Why? What is it about the message of Jesus Christ that is so
offensive?
For a time there in my career I used to welcome everyone to church by saying, “Good
morning, sinners!” Now, for those who’ve been a part of the Lutheran church a while, they
know that saint and sinner is one of the favorite Lutheran paradoxes, so to playfully call
ourselves “sinner” is to be followed with, “Yeah, while of course I am a sinner, I’ve got good
news! Christ has called me saint. I am forgiven and a new creation.” It’s all kind of tongue-in-
cheek. It’s like calling a seven foot pro-wrestler “Tiny.” Maybe I used to be small, but look at
me now. However, the Old Adam, the Old Sinner can’t stand being reminded that, A) He is a
sinner, indeed and, B) he is daily being put to death by Christ’s word of forgiveness. The Old
Adam doesn’t want to be called ‘sinner’, he would rather play religious; and so people would
object, saying things like, “Do you really need to call us sinners every Sunday? I mean, these
are good people here,” or my favorite, “I’m just tired of coming to church and being told what
a bad person I am.” The Old Adam wants to think that he is on some great religious project
where calling one another sinner is inappropriate because I have worked really hard to be a
“good” person. It’s all tom-foolery of course. Luther in his Small Catechism says that
opposition to the gospel comes from three places: the self, the world and the devil. The self –
he means the old self, the old sinner who will always reject the gospel being done to us, that it
comes purely as a free gift from God and doesn’t require me to do anything religious first. The
world opposes the gospel because, well, the world is full of selfs! And the nature of the world
is selfish gain, complacency over injustice and suffering, and even violence to get ahead. And
finally, the devil. As if we needed any help opposing the gospel. The point being, there is very
real opposition to the gospel. And so when we ask, “Why is the message of Jesus Christ so
offensive?” Why would his hometown reject him? Why would the Pharisees and priests want
him dead? Why would the world hate him? It is because there are very real forces at work
opposing the gospel and those forces begin right here in your own selfish heart, my lovely little
sinners.
No one likes to have their sins pointed out. Naming sins is painful. Take the prophet Ezekiel.
While the scroll that God gave to Ezekiel tasted sweet like honey in his mouth, the words
themselves were a burden to the Israelites. God warns him, “I am sending you to my people
Israel, a rebellious and sinful people, impudent and stubborn, but I am sending you to them.”
And then I love this verse, “And whether they hear or refuse to hear, that they shall know that
there has been a prophet among them.” I love it because it is kind of clarifying for me. I mean,
put quite simply: sinner’s gonna sin, devil’s gonna do what the devil does; the Old Adam is
gonna do his Old Adam stuff; and the Gospel is the Gospel. You can’t change the Gospel, it is
what it is. And you can’t change the Old Adam, he will always oppose God. So what’s your and
my job? Preach. Preach the Word. So that whether they hear the word or refuse to hear the
word, at least they might know that the promises of God were among them. Luther says that
God doesn’t sit around twiddling his thumbs while the self and the world and the devil oppose
and thwart his kingdom. Above all he sends his Word, his promises of forgiveness and eternal
life. Those promises when preached are the death of the old sinner and they are the
strengthening and encouraging of your faith. So like Ezekiel choking down that weird scroll on
our bulletin cover this morning, we have only been given one thing, and that is the word of
God. We only go out into this world that is hostile to God armed with only one thing, the
promises of Christ.
I close in that spirit with the words from our short little psalm this morning, Psalm 123,
“Though I have had my fill of contempt and my soul has had more than its fill of scorn; yet to
you, O Lord, I lift my eyes, You who are enthroned in the heavens for you have had mercy
upon us.” You have had mercy upon us. Despite the scorn and contempt, God’s mercy is
without end. This is the only word by which you are sent and it is God’s final word. Mercy
without end. Amen.