Today's reading prompts us to reflect on the truth expressed in a well-known saying whose Gospel origin, however, is far from universally known today: no prophet is accepted in his own country (v. 24). By quoting a messianic passage from the Book of Isaiah, Jesus quite plainly identifies Himself as the One of whom the prophet spoke (vv. 17-21). At first glance, His listeners' reaction seems paradoxical: on the one hand they agree with Jesus, but on the other they immediately begin to doubt. How could their fellow townsman, whom they had known since childhood, make any claim to be the Messiah (v. 22)? They demand miracles from Him not as signs of the Kingdom but as proof of His messiahship (v. 23). It is then that Jesus speaks the bitter words about a prophet in his own country (v. 24).

Yet the paradoxical reaction of Jesus' listeners was actually quite understandable, and not merely because “great things are best seen from a distance.” The issue here was ordinary familiarity, which often proves to be one of the most serious obstacles on the spiritual path. Their doubts are justified, not by chance, with the thought that they have known Him since childhood: “Is not this Joseph's son?” So how could there be any question of messiahship? Of course, if Jesus had been recognized by respected people or official authorities and they had directly identified Him as the Messiah, He would undoubtedly have been welcomed with joy and celebrated as a famous fellow townsman. But there was no official recognition, and the townspeople had to decide for themselves. The force of habit weighed upon them.

Fallen human beings tend to see reality not as it is but as they are accustomed to seeing it. Clichés are common and widespread, and they arise for a reason: reducing reality to patterns and using ready-made models to describe it form a kind of psychological mechanism by which human beings adapt to the world—a mechanism without which, after the Fall, they can no longer manage. Yet this same adaptive mechanism often prevents a person from seeing what is new and unusual. It offers ready-made patterns and models where they do not apply, where the realities involved fit no pattern and can be described by no model.

The Kingdom to which Jesus bears witness is just such a reality. It fits no familiar framework. Yet Jesus' fellow townspeople do not want to lose that framework; they are prepared to defend it at any cost, and Jesus simply will not fit within it: an unrecognized Messiah, a disturber of the peace, someone passing Himself off as no one knows whom and claiming what no one in their small town had ever claimed or would ever have dared to claim. This is how He appeared to the people of Nazareth. They were left with only one remedy: to rid themselves of their excessively troublesome fellow townsman. And they would have done so if they could (vv. 28-30).

As we can see, it is not only the hatred of religious rigorists and the maneuvering of politicians that lead Jesus to the cross. He is driven there also by the narrowness of fallen human nature.

What stands out most in the account of the Savior’s temptation in the wilderness is Satan’s powerlessness. The temptations to which we so easily fall victim prove insignificant to Christ. The Savior rejects putting one’s own interests first—ultimately, the interests of one’s own stomach—by saying that the true source of life for a human being is the Word of God. He rejects the thirst for power that consumes people regardless of era or culture by pointing to God’s unassailable sovereignty over creation. When invited to use the Creator magically as an instrument, the Savior responds by showing reverence for the holiness of the Almighty.

The apostle Paul will say that Christ is the new Adam. The renewal of the human race in Christ consists above all in this: His faith and faithfulness to the Father prove stronger and more important than temptations, which appear petty and empty before Him. His victory over darkness begins from the very moment Christ refuses to yield to temptation.

People have different attitudes toward their illnesses: some think about them all the time, while others try to forget about them. Some complain, while others keep silent and pretend they are not sick. But almost everyone still wants to be healed. True, that desire also takes different forms. Naaman was deeply eager for healing. He longed for it and believed it was possible. It was this faith that opened his ears to the words of a young servant girl. He not only heard her words about the prophet; he believed them and dared to speak about it with the king.

Yes, he was "a great man before his master." But the higher you stand, the more frightening it is to make yourself look ridiculous, to be disgraced. And when he reached Elisha, Elisha did not even come out to the threshold to meet Naaman, but sent instructions through a servant. Naaman was disappointed, became angry, and refused to accept the way the Lord had decided to act in this situation.

How often we have a similar reaction when our carefully thought-out plans do not come to pass. But, fortunately, God gave Naaman the gift of listening to the people around him. Even though they were only servants, the desire to be healed and trust in God lead Naaman farther. And the Lord rewards the trust of His children with healing of body and soul.