My third or fourth sermon ever was preached with all the sureness and self-importance of a first-year Christian college student coming home with a couple of theology and philosophy classes under his belt, coming home to straighten out the misconceptions of those in the church he grew up in.
I not sure, but I think that college sermon may have been about the significance of Holy Communion. What I do remember clearly is that it was hardly as earth-shaking and home-church-altering as I imagined it might be. A number of people had nice things to say to me afterward, but it didn’t really change anyone’s heart or practice, even mine at the time. I know now the kind words were just indulgence of a fellow they knew as the little boy who read science fiction books during worship, interrupted his teachers with jokes in Sunday School, and once had to be told to be quiet by the pastor during the pastor’s own preaching one Sunday. I should not have expected to be truly heard, and I mostly was not.
In our text for Sunday, Luke 4:21-30, we find Jesus in a similar situation, though His claim to true authority was genuine and far superior to my sophomoric college knowledge. As verse 22 notes, “All spoke well of him,” but what follows shows that they understood and heeded little of what He actually had to teach.
In verse 23, Jesus quoted a proverb to them, “Doctor, cure yourself!” implying both a request for miracles there at home to match what He had done elsewhere and a request for some dramatic validation of the authority which He claimed and with which He spoke.
Jesus’ mention in verses 25-27 of the miracles on behalf of the widow of Zarephath and Naaman the Syrian suggests to the people of Nazareth that no miracles will be forthcoming for them and that they are less worthy of such than the people of neighboring towns. In short, Jesus says that, though they might think of Him as a physician, as a doctor, they are not really willing to hear the “doctor’s orders” for what is their actual spiritual condition.
Perhaps we can grasp the sudden flip from praise to anger among those of Nazareth when we consider how we sometimes respond to solid but unwelcome counsel from our physicians. Beset by some illness or injury, we go seeking the miracle drug or surgery, but instead receive direction that calls for losing weight, giving up some favorite foods, exercise or some tedious course of therapy. A doctor we have previously praised suddenly becomes the object of our anger and rejection.
The solution, the cure if you will, is pretty obviously to not be like the townspeople of Nazareth. Let’s not let our familiarity of Jesus dull us to His good and healing “doctor’s orders,” and let’s not let the difficulty and sacrifice His directions require lead us to reject His guidance outright. Let’s instead offer our Lord the honor and willing obedience He didn’t find there at home in Nazareth.