“Sunday Reflection” is a regular feature, looking at the specific readings used in today’s Mass in Catholic parishes around the world. The reflection represents only my own point of view, intended to help prepare myself for the Lord’s day and perhaps spark a meaningful discussion. Previous Sunday Reflections from the main page can be found here.  For previous Green Room entries, click here.

This morning’s Gospel reading is Mark 6:1-6:

Jesus departed from there and came to his native place, accompanied by his disciples. When the sabbath came he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astonished. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What kind of wisdom has been given him? What mighty deeds are wrought by his hands! Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him. Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and among his own kin and in his own house.” So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there, apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them. He was amazed at their lack of faith.

 This passage in the Gospel seems like a curious episode to pass along to the later disciples of Christ, doesn’t it? For the most part in the Gospels, the authors include mainly recollections of the teachings of Jesus, the miracles and signs He provided, and the way Jesus prevailed over his critics and enemies until the Passion — and even then, the Passion is presented as an intentional and willing purpose of His ministry.

In this passage, however, Jesus appears to be confounded by His own community of Nazareth, and either unwilling or unable (as Matthew says explicitly) to do anything more than a few healings to serve as signs of His power.  One could dismiss this as simply an attempt at creating a broader historical narrative by one Gospel writer, but the same episode appears in Mark 13:53-58 and Luke 4:16-30. In both Matthew and Mark, Jesus can perform few signs, but in Luke it gets even uglier for Jesus’ homecoming: the people of Nazareth nearly kill Jesus in anger over His preaching.

Clearly, then, this episode has not been included in three of the four Gospels as just an afterthought. The rejection of Jesus in Nazareth is meant to teach us something about faith and free will. Perhaps one of those lessons can be learned from Paul, who makes no appearance at all in the Gospels but whose writings dominate the New Testament.

Paul becomes one of the most compelling figures of the early Church, beginning with his first mention in Acts. Formerly named Saul, he comes into the Church narrative not as a prophet but as a tormentor, a persecutor of the followers of Christ as one of the Pharisees. Saul attends the stoning of Stephen, the first martyr of the Church, and one of the first seven deacons appointed to help serve the Apostles. Saul continues his persecutions until he gets blinded by a vision of Christ on the road to Damascus, converts to Christianity, and becomes known as Paul afterward.

In some ways, Paul becomes a personification of Christ’s warning about prophets being without honor in their home towns. Both a Pharisee and a Roman citizen, Paul would get brutally rejected by both communities. After his conversion, he preaches to the Jewish community in Damascus, only to narrowly escape a plot against his life. Paul then returns to Jerusalem in zeal to preach the Gospel, only to have to flee for his life once again, not unlike the reception Jesus received in Nazareth. Paul’s mission would be to leave the Jewish communities and to convert the Gentiles, which Paul fulfilled in a mighty way until he came to Rome and was put to death.

This makes Paul inexplicable, except through faith. He could have sought power through both of those paths. In Acts, Saul appears well on his way to acquiring power within the political environment of the temple. He could have relied on his Roman citizenry to achieve a more comfortable life, if not one of power. Instead, Paul embraces Christ, and embraces the weakest temporal path of all, that of the Christian witness to the poor and sick.

In today’s second reading, Paul writes to the Corinthians about his own weaknesses, and how he offers them up to Christ. It also serves as an explanation for this choice:

That I, Paul, might not become too elated, because of the abundance of the revelations, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me.

Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong.

Paul does not meet his converts in power, but in weakness, where all of us live. The Christian faith lifts us up from weakness, not from worldly power. Paul writes of his own personal weakness, “a thorn in the flesh” that he prays Christ will remove, but the thorn serves to remind Paul of the needs of those to whom he preaches. Jesus reminds Paul that His love will suffice, and in that Paul rejoices for the weakness which gives him strength for his mission, and that of Christ.

Paul could have chosen the strength of this world and ignored his own human frailty. He chose not to rely on worldly power, but surrender that life for one in Christ in which his weaknesses would be exposed. That is the essence of meekness, which is not a lack of strength but the will to set wordly strength aside for mercy and love. Blessed are the meek, Jesus taught in the Beatitudes, for they shall inherit the Earth.

That brings us back to Nazareth, and the ugly scene that unfolds when Jesus proclaims His ministry to the people of his home. What kept Jesus from conducting a “mighty deed” there? Matthew suggests that the “lack of faith” that “amazed” Jesus prevented it, while Mark explicitly attributes it to “their unbelief.” We know, though, that the Lord can conduct any mighty deed at any time, with or without our cooperation; the path of salvation is full of such signs. Indeed, Paul’s own conversion comes from a mighty deed performed by the risen Christ without the slightest hint of cooperation, on one of the Church’s most zealous persecutors. Why not at Nazareth?

The simple answer here might be that the people of Nazareth simply were not ready for it. Their despair had grown too hardened to hear Jesus, and a sign would not have made any difference to their hardened hearts. In this, the passage from Luke is more instructive, as Jesus clearly makes this argument prior to and during their rejection. He refers to Elijah and his mission to the widow of Sidon, noting that Israel also had many widows at that time but was not prepared for his mission. Jesus also then reminds the people of Nazareth of how Elisha cleansed Naaman the Syrian rather than an Israelite as a sign from the Lord. In these cases, the Israelites of old were not prepared to receive a sign from the Lord, and so the Lord conducted His signs elsewhere in circumstances that would be more clearly received. In all of these instances, the people stuck stubbornly to their concept of their own power rather than open their hearts to the Lord in their weakness.

Jesus recognizes in Nazareth the same circumstances. He foregoes “mighty deeds,” being prevented (“unable”) by the lack of faith and love in the town. Jesus puts aside his strength — for He certainly could have forced them into submission by overawing them — to give the people of Nazareth time to repent and open their hearts. It is an act of meekness, a sign of His grace and His patience. This reinforces the need for all of us to prepare ourselves to receive Christ, to open ourselves to His Word and His signs. Christ does not force Himself upon us, but comes to us in our weakness, especially when we acknowledge it.

When Christ comes to us to fulfill the law and the prophets, will we open our hearts to Him and offer up our weaknesses and shortcomings, as Paul did? Or will we try throwing our friend and brother over the cliff, as the people of Nazareth did? As Christ did with both, the choice is ours to make.

Update: Today’s reading is from Mark, not Matthew. My apologies for the error, which has an explanation, but it’s longer than it’s worth, so I’ll spare you all.