Make Them Run You to the Cliffs

I was grumpy in Bible study this week.

I didn’t know why. Something was nagging at me about the lectionary gospel reading (I’m quoting a bit longer here than the lectionary text because I think the whole story is important):

Luke 4:16-30

When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:

 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
    because he has anointed me
        to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
    and recovery of sight to the blind,
        to set free those who are oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, “Is this not Joseph’s son?” He said to them, “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say, ‘Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.’ ” And he said, “Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in his hometown. But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months and there was a severe famine over all the land, yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. There were also many with a skin disease in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.”When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.

What did Jesus do here that made his own hometown crowd mad enough to chase him to a cliff? Interestingly, it didn’t happen because he was saying that he was fulfilling scripture, or even about cheering the poor and freeing the captives. It happened because he was tying the idea of messiahship to bringing mercy outside of Nazareth and even outside of Judaism.

His buddies from the block were amazed at first by his gracious words. Then it seems they were expecting him to do some healing like he did at Capernaum. How amazing that this is what has become of the carpenter’s son. But then, he compares himself to stories of Elijah and Elisha who brought mercy to gentiles. Elijah fed a starving widow in Sidon – during a famine no less. Elisha was sent to cure a skin disease of a Syrian army commander. And Jesus was comparing their rejection to his experiences with his fellow Nazarenes.

This is what I think he was saying: Yes, I’m here for the poor, the captive, the blind and oppressed, but that mercy goes to the entire world, and you seem incapable of grasping that. This isn’t about you.

Do I think this story was possibly made up to underscore some theological points. Maybe. At least embellished. Luke is very interested in showing that Jesus is the Messiah of all humanity. But it’s also a weird way to start an evangelical message about a new faith. “Hey, this guy I want you to follow, who was killed by Rome but I’m saying he’s actually still alive, he was also immediately hated by his own hometown and nearly driven off a cliff. Cool huh?”

Anytime a gospel writer says something that could be negative about Jesus, it’s for a specific reason. That reason may be historical. It’s likely the people of Nazareth didn’t like Jesus that much. We hate it when our friends become successful. Fittingly for Nazareth, the song says, “and if they’re Northern, that makes it worse.” Maybe they were jealous. Maybe you just don’t trust your hometown kids as much as an outsider. I’ve known a few carpenter’s sons who were up to some holy mischief. But I think this idea of bringing mercy to the entire world – especially to people we don’t like – is so core to Christianity that Luke wants to basically start the mission with that idea.

Mercy For Me, Not Thee

You may have recently heard of the Right Reverend Bishop Mariann Budde. She has been criticized quite heavily by conservative Christians, being called everything from Satanic to a liberal political hack. What was her crime? Calling for mercy for people conservatives don’t like. She dared to call for mercy for LGBTQ+ people and immigrants. What is so wrong with mercy?

Matthew 5:7

Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

A lot of what we need to know about being good Jesus followers comes from the Sermon on the Mount. None of it is easy. But today’s Nazarenes, the crowd that imagines they deserve some kind of home court advantage, are conservative Christians who like living an easy faith. Cheap grace. It should not surprise us that this message of mercy to all was loathed – just as it was in Jesus’ own day.

Bishop Budde displayed nothing but Christian love in her sermon. Her sermon was pastoral, kind and creatively prophetic. She urged the president and others to follow Jesus. She held up the worth and dignity of every person, especially the ones who don’t often get held up.

The echo in our lectionary text is stunning. Bishop Budde is now receiving death threats simply for asking for mercy inside of a Christian church. She’s being run to the cliffs. If you think that proclaiming the message of the Gospel is a political attack, the problem is where you landed in your faith, the problem is what you’ve become, the problem is what you really worship. Bishop Budde spoke on behalf of LGBTQ+ sisters and brothers and to immigrants – if that offends you as a Christian and it feels personal, then your values have become perverted. You need corrective lenses for your soul.

I want to quote what some are calling the controversial part of her sermon. Please read it carefully and try to point to one unchristian idea. There are none. This is the work of Christ that Christ left us here to do.

In the name of our God, I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared now. There are gay, lesbian, and transgender children in Democratic, Republican, and independent families, some who fear for their lives. And the people — the people who pick our crops, and clean our office buildings, who labor in poultry farms and meat-packing plants, who wash the dishes after we eat in restaurants, and work the night shifts in hospitals — they may not be citizens, or have the proper documentation, but the vast majority of immigrants are not criminals. They pay taxes, and are good neighbors.

If you think mercy is wrong, I point you to Amos’ pleas for social justice. I point you to Micah 6:8 for which this blog was named. If you’re offended that mercy should go to LGBTQ+ people while they are under attack by the most powerful government in the world, I am here to tell you that being queer is not a sin. If you still think it’s a sin, I’m sure that some old white guy told you at some point to love the sinner anyway (and again, being queer is not a sin). If your problem is with undocumented workers and immigrants being treated with mercy, can you see yourself as the hometown Nazarene in the story in Luke? Can you see how Jesus’ own people were offended that he would bring mercy to despised outsiders just like Elijah and Elisha did in their time? Can you see that this long and faithful tradition calls us to spurn our outer identities and see the Christ inside every part of creation?

Bishop Budde’s words hurt, just like Jesus’ did, not because they aren’t from God but because they are from God. They call us all to the radical inclusion of Christ’s love. If only we were all as daring as she is, maybe the next generation would be more likely to join us in the pews. If only we all had her courage to risk being run off the cliffs of our own hometowns.

Get Yourself Run to a Cliff

I hope you can see what should be obvious: courageous Christians like Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde are shining examples of how we live a Christlike, historical faith. She is bold in embracing core Christian values and challenges others to do the same. She advocates for mercy and justice just like Elijah, Elisha, Amos, Micah and our Lord, even if it gets her run to the cliffs. She speaks about compassion with compassion. She leads by example by embracing vulnerability just as Jesus called us to do in the Beatitudes. She’s a true role model and you can be one, too. Your actions can inspire others to act courageously in their own lives. You can risk the cliffs just as Jesus and Bishop Budde did.

Sure, some people won’t get it. They won’t hear what you’re saying. They’ll even think it’s from Satan. (Spoiler: it’s not). But also remember how this week’s story ends: “But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.” Haters gon’ hate. Carry on with your Jesus faith anyway.