…the people….were filled with rage.
– Luke 4:28
“When I come to church,” complained the parishioner. “I don’t want to hear anything political. I just want to be able to focus on my personal relationship with God.”
My friend probably anticipated blow back to his sermon—especially when he wandered into “controversial” waters. I’m sure he labored long over his word choice, pondering appropriate timing to move from abstract generalizations to concrete examples.
Endorsing a particular political party wasn’t his goal. But highlighting an issue at odds with his interpretation of scripture fell within his call as a preacher. Not surprisingly, before singing the last stanza of the final hymn, his email inbox was filling with comments. Some grateful. Some angry. And some….“I don’t want to hear anything political….”
Fair comment, I guess. Separation of church and state after all. The problem, I suppose, is a believer’s analysis of what acceptably lies under the umbrella of faith. For some, faith is personal and private. Sunday’s a time to get away from the world. A few stanzas of Great is Thy Faithfulness, recitation of the Lord’s prayer, a euphoric rendition of Bach’s Mass in B Minor and a nugget of inspiration to help get through the coming week.
Another perspective argues that faith is inherently “political” because it speaks to all things human. With its Greek origins, “politikos” means “of, for or relating to citizens.” Since God cares and loves people, faith and politics are naturally inseparable. People—made in the image of God—are as sacred as any ethereal exercise conducted within the four walls of a church. In this view, Sunday morning worship is a time to awaken complicit hearts, ignite moral courage and confront things that hurt the heart of God.
Two varying perspectives. You can sense why one group might frustrate the other.
Good news for my friend. He is not alone in annoying his congregants. Jesus had similar reactions to his sermons. Of course this was well before email, FaceBook and Instagram. Hiding behind the anonymity of the internet wasn’t an option. Feelings were on full public display in the first century.
“When they heard the words of Jesus,” records Luke (4:14). “all in the Synagogue were filled with rage.” Now rage definitely trumps “annoy” on the emotion scale. Even the nastiest email can be deleted. But what warrants such a visceral reaction from Jesus’ listeners?
Could it be because Jesus reminds his congregants that real faith is “bringing good news to the poor, freedom to the captives and sight to the blind” and that his mission extended well beyond those sitting in the pews that morning? Yes, faith can be personal. But it is never just for me and my kin. So instead of the Synagogue leaders offering Jesus a honorarium and brunch at Applebees, he’s escorted out of town to the edge of a cliff….to be pushed off! And people think preaching is easy.
As we enter Holy Week, it’s important we revisit the reason Jesus was loved by so many—and loathed by others. Jesus was good news to some. Others, let’s face it, not so good. He could be annoying. By extending his love, mercy, generosity and grace beyond socially and religiously acceptable boundaries of his community, he became a dangerous thorn in the side of society’s gate keepers—especially the religious ones.
For Jesus, the road to the cross didn’t begin because he lived a private, hermit-like life in the desert—singing praise chorus’ and writing wise things. Jesus’ life was active, engaged and rooted in the real struggles of real people. He brought hope, healing and a new vision of the God-life. And to those who dare listen, he still says, “follow me” and do likewise.