NOTES for Luk 4:16-44
Today’s reading makes us reflect on the truth expressed in a familiar saying, whose Gospel origin is far from universally known today: no prophet is accepted in his own country (v. 24). By quoting a messianic passage from Isaiah, Jesus quite clearly points to Himself as the One of whom the prophet spoke (vv. 17–21). At first sight, the listeners’ reaction is paradoxical: on the one hand they agree with Jesus, but on the other they immediately begin to doubt. How can their fellow townsman, whom they have known since childhood, make any claim to be the Messiah (v. 22)? They demand miracles from Him not as testimony to the Kingdom, but as proof of His messiahship (v. 23). It was then that Jesus spoke His bitter words about a prophet in his own country (v. 24).
Yet the paradoxical response of His listeners was in fact quite understandable, and not only because “greatness is seen from a distance.” The issue here was the most ordinary force of habit, which often becomes one of the most serious obstacles on the spiritual path. It is no accident that their doubts are justified by saying, in effect, that they have known Him since childhood: “Is this not Joseph’s son?” How, then, can there be any question of messiahship? Of course, if Jesus had been recognised by authoritative people or official bodies, so that those people or bodies had pointed to Him as the Messiah, they would have received Him gladly and taken pride in Him as a famous fellow townsman. But there had been no official recognition, and the townspeople had to make the decision themselves. The force of habit weighed upon them.
A fallen person tends to see reality not as it is, but as they are accustomed to seeing it. Clichés are ordinary and widespread, and they do not arise by accident: schematising reality and using ready-made models to describe it are a peculiar mechanism of psychological adaptation without which, after the fall, a person can no longer manage. Yet this same mechanism often prevents a person from seeing what is new and unusual, offering ready-made schemes and models where they do not apply, where realities fit no scheme and can be described by no model. The Kingdom to which Jesus bears witness is such a reality. It fits no familiar framework. But Jesus’ fellow townspeople do not want to lose their familiar framework; they are ready to defend it at any cost, and Jesus does not fit it at all. He appeared to the people of Nazareth as an unrecognised Messiah, a disturber of the peace, someone claiming to be who knows what and laying claim to something that no one in their small town had ever claimed or would ever have dared to claim. Only one remedy remained for them: to rid themselves of their fellow townsman, who was far too disturbing for them. They would have done so if they could (vv. 28–30). Evidently, it is not only the hatred of religious rigorists and the games of politicians that lead Jesus to the cross. The narrowness of fallen human nature drives Him there as well.