Being saved by the person you least expect
Photo from Unsplash.A Reflection for Monday of the Twenty-second Week in Ordinary Time
Find today’s readings here.
We’ve probably all had the two-step reaction that the townspeople of Nazareth have in today’s Gospel: a moment of awe, followed by, “Wait a minute: this guy?” It seems odd that someone we know quite well is suddenly revealed to be someone amazing. My sister, who is a veterinary technician at an emergency animal hospital, once took me on a tour of her facility. As I met her coworkers, I found I couldn’t even understand the specialized vocabulary they used for their work. But it dawned on me that everyone she introduced me to had total respect for my sister’s expertise. My baby sister. How did I not know this about her?
It’s unexpected when a person we know turns out to be so much more than we once knew. Maybe we feel a bit deceived that they’ve hidden this face of achievement from us. Or maybe we wonder if these other folks are overreacting with their praise of a person we know in a normal, different light. Like, just your little sister.
Or just the son of Joseph, from just our little town.
May we welcome Jesus, along with the strangers and the ones we least expect in our lives, and ask them to stay awhile.
Jesus dares to proclaim himself the anointed one of the Lord, the one heralded by the prophet Isaiah. What? First comes the awe, where they “all spoke highly of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.” But then comes the “Wait a minute: this guy?” It’s too hard for them to imagine that a fellow they know could be the one they’re waiting for. It’s understandable. As Jesus says, “No prophet is accepted in his own native place.”
We all may know this experience, too, that the person we least expect turns out to be the one who guides us through some difficulty, who saves the day. When one of our children was in the throes of addiction, a wise person advised my husband and me to “pray for the stranger,” because we weren’t going to be the ones who could help our child, no matter how desperately we wanted to. The stranger did arrive, first as an arresting officer, then as a program sponsor. They weren’t the ones we expected. Without help, without prayer, we might not have recognized them.
The people of Nazareth didn’t exactly rise to the occasion once their awe turned to doubt, since they tried to throw the son of Joseph off a cliff, or as Luke phrases it, “to hurl him down headlong.” For prophets, it is ever thus. Sometimes we can’t see what is right in front of our faces. Back in Nazareth, Jesus “passed through the midst of them and went away.” Better for us to welcome him, along with the strangers and the ones we least expect in our lives, and ask them to stay awhile.
Valerie Schultz is a freelance writer, a columnist for The Bakersfield Californian and the author of A Hill of Beans: The Grace of Everyday Troubles. She and her husband Randy have four children and three grandchildren.
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