My Own Parochial Jesus

Serendipitously, this week’s gospel speaks to the theme of tribalism that I’ve been talking about this week.

Jesus began to speak in the synagogue: ‘This text is being fulfilled today even as you listen.’ And he won the approval of all, and they were astonished by the gracious words that came from his lips They said, ‘This is Joseph’s son, surely?’

But he replied, ‘No doubt you will quote me the saying, “Physician, heal yourself” and tell me, “We have heard all that happened in Capernaum, do the same here in your own countryside.”’ And he went on, ‘I tell you solemnly, no prophet is ever accepted in his own country.

‘There were many widows in Israel, I can assure you, in Elijah’s day, when heaven remained shut for three years and six months and a great famine raged throughout the land, but Elijah was not sent to any one of these: he was sent to a widow at Zarephath, a Sidonian town. And in the prophet Elisha’s time there were many lepers in Israel, but none of these was cured, except the Syrian, Naaman.’

When they heard this everyone in the synagogue was enraged. They sprang to their feet and hustled him out of the town; and they took him up to the brow of the hill their town was built on, intending to throw him down the cliff, but he slipped through the crowd and walked away.

It’s interesting, because we’re looking at one of those passages where the sentiments of the crowd turn on a dime. At first, everyone is astonished and they all, as a body, approve of what Jesus is saying. Presumably part of this is that they’re hoping to get a cut of the miraculous grace that He’s been spreading about the countryside. Also, there’s probably a certain amount of local pride: Nazareth wasn’t exactly the centre of the Jewish religious world and the idea of having a prophet and a miracle worker come from their own community must have tickled them a bit.

That is, until He refuses to become an exclusive possession.

Christ challenges the people of Nazareth here, offering them two well-known examples from Scripture. The first is the widow at Zarephath who provided for Elijah’s needs during the famine. Now a little background is relevant here. The Sidonians in the time of Elijah were not the most popular people in the minds of pious Jews. Indeed, Jezebel, the hated wife of King Ahab, was a Sidonian princess and the idolatrous practices that were presumably responsible for God afflicting the land with drought and famine in the first place were Sidonian practices.

Ahab son of Omri did more evil in the eyes of the Lord than any of those before him. He not only considered it trivial to commit the sins of Jeroboam son of Nebat, but he also married Jezebel daughter of Ethbaal king of the Sidonians, and began to serve Baal and worship him. He set up an altar for Baal in the temple of Baal that he built in Samaria. Ahab also made an Asherah pole and did more to arouse the anger of the Lord, the God of Israel, than did all the kings of Israel before him. (1 Kings 16:30-33)

Yet when Elijah is sent out looking for bread and shelter, he is sent to the home of a Sidonian woman. It’s not just that this woman is asked to serve and provide for the prophet; this woman is at the very end of her resources. She’s about to mix the very last of her flour and oil into bread for herself and her son, after which she expects to starve to death. Yet Elijah promises her that the flour will not run out, he comes to live with her, and when her son is later stricken down and dies, Elijah restores him to life. This woman is selected not just to serve, but also to receive incredible graces through the intercession of the prophet.

Christ, however, draws His listeners attention to a somewhat uncomfortable fact about this story: it’s not just a nice tale of God’s miraculous providence. “There were,” He says, “many widows in Israel…but Elijah was not sent to any of these.” The widows in Israel were presumably suffering just as much from the famine as the widow at Zarephath. They too, presumably, had sons who were starving. Yet God chooses to bestow the miracle on a foreigner.

The second example, the leper Naaman, is even worse. This guy is not only a foreigner, he’s a foreign general from an enemy kingdom: “commander of the army of the king of Aram.” (2 Kings 5:1) Aram is mentioned repeatedly in the Bible. Mostly it’s mentioned every time that the king of Aram is at war with Israel, which is basically all the time. Indeed, the only reason Naaman even knows about Elisha is that he has a Jewish servant girl who was captured in a raid.

Moreover, Naaman is not a poor, humble, downtrodden woman like the widow of Zarephath. He’s wealthy, proud, and haughty. He worships foreign gods, and when Elisha tells him to go and bathe in the river Jordan in order to be made clean his immediate response is to get mad, throw a bit of tiff, and march off in disgust. “Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Couldn’t I wash in them and be cleansed?” (2 Kings 5:12)

This guy is so contemptuous of the prophet’s advice that he nearly walks out on his own redemption. Only after his servants have mollified his ego a bit does he condescend to bathe himself in Jordan, whereupon he is healed.

Here’s the last person in the world who anyone would expect to be the recipient of God’s special favour – and yet he’s chosen. As Christ points out “there were many lepers in Israel, but none of these was cured”. The miracle was given instead to an outsider. (It’s worth noting, as an aside, that when Naaman converts he asks for pardon in advance for failing to scrupulously observe his new religion: “When my master enters the temple of Rimmon to bow down and he is leaning on my arm and I have to bow there also—when I bow down in the temple of Rimmon, may the Lord forgive your servant for this.” (2 Kings 5:18) Elisha’s only response to this is “Go in peace.”)

These two stories, the widow of Zarephath and the healing of Naaman, illustrate a point which Christ’s Nazarene audience do not want to hear. He’s not interested in being a champion of the home county. He’s not even interested in making Israel great again. Instead, He directs His listeners towards the fact that Isaiah’s prophecy is not intended specially for them, but is a promise for all nations.

It’s this scandalous reminder of God’s love and compassion for those who seem to be the enemy that causes Christ’s audience to lose it. Suddenly, they are no longer astonished, approving. They’re enraged.

Image: Pixabay