PROPER 9, YEAR B

Sunday, July 7, 2024

St Mark’s Episcopal Church, Warwick, R. I.

 

Ezekiel 2:1-5

Mark 6:1-13

 

Today’s readings raise what might be called “the mystery of rejection.” In theological language, a mystery is something that we can accurately name and describe to some extent, but without ever fully exhausting its meaning. It’s simultaneously visible and invisible, revealed and hidden. Its deepest reality always eludes our fullest comprehension, at least in this life. Once we’ve said everything that can be said about it, we realize that there’s so much more that must be left unsaid.

 

“The mystery of rejection” is the question of why some people accept and embrace the truth of God’s word and the good news of God’s love, while others don’t. Thus defined, it’s part of the wider mystery of human freedom.

 

In every parish community with which I’ve been affiliated people have periodically wrestled with this question. A long-standing parishioner, a pillar of the church, suddenly leaves, and stops attending any church. The temptation is to ask ourselves: Why? What did we do wrong? What warning signals did we miss? What drove this person away? How did we fail to meet their needs?

 

But then, out of the blue, new individuals and new families arrive and become avid participants. At that point, the temptation is to congratulate ourselves and take credit for everything we’re doing right, and to ask what more we can do to build on our successes. These are not bad questions to ask, so long as we realize that any answers we come up with will always be partial and incomplete. Ultimately, we’re dealing with the mystery of the Spirit’s movements in the deepest recesses of the human heart.

 

This mystery of rejection dominates today’s Old Testament reading from the Prophet Ezekiel. God commissions the prophet to go to the people of Israel, “a nation of rebels, who have rebelled against me.” Without promising any success, the Lord demands the prophet’s obedience to his calling: “I am sending you to them, and you shall say to them, “Thus says the Lord God.” Whether they hear or refuse to hear … they shall know that there has been a prophet among them.” The crucial point is not how the people respond, but whether the prophet speaks God’s Word and issues the call to repentance and obedience. If Ezekiel does that, he’ll be found faithful, even if the people are not.

 

Today’s Gospel presents us with another instance of rejection. Jesus returns to his hometown of Nazareth for the first time since beginning his ministry in Galilee. Listening to him speak in the synagogue are his friends and neighbors, the people among whom he grew up. They take offense at him: “Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?” Their attitude is one of classic small-town pettiness and jealousy: “We know who you are, so don’t you go putting on airs and acting like you’re any better than the rest of us!” In response, Jesus utters the wonderful proverbial saying: “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.”

 

Mark then makes one of his more interesting and enigmatic statements: “And [Jesus] could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. And he was amazed at their unbelief.” It’s the precise reversal of the usual pattern of people marveling at the Lord’s mighty works. Even though Jesus is all-powerful as the Incarnate Son of God, nonetheless he requires from those seeking his help some measure of faith as a condition of performing the healing miracles that have already become the keynote of his ministry. And there’s a warning here for us. Let it never be said that God could do no mighty works at St. Mark’s, Warwick, on account of our unbelief. God can and will do great things among us, provided that we ask in faith.

 

Notice what Jesus does not do in response to his rejection at Nazareth. He doesn’t commission a survey to learn how he can become more responsive to the townspeople’s concerns and needs. He doesn’t send out an email with the subject heading “Let us know how we’re doing,” asking for feedback in the form of ratings on a scale of one to ten across twelve different categories of service. That’s not how the Kingdom of God works. Instead, he simply respects their freedom and moves on. As Mark tersely puts it: “Then he went about among the villages teaching.”

 

Then he summons the Twelve Apostles and sends them out two-by-two to preach and cast out demons in the surrounding region of Galilee. Since Nazareth has rejected him, it’s become all the more urgent to take the message on the road to the many other towns and villages that may be more receptive. This strategy bears fruit. The Twelve “went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.”  Rejection doesn’t always have the last word. Moreover, the Twelve effectively become the new community that replaces the hometown community that has rejected Jesus for the time being.

 

The common denominator between Ezekiel in the Old Testament and Jesus in the Gospel is the overriding imperative of fidelity to the mission. God says to Ezekiel: “Whether they hear or refuse to hear (for they are a rebellious house), they shall know that there has been a prophet among them.” And Jesus says to the Twelve: “If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.” In those days, Jews returning to Israel after traveling abroad would shake the dust of the Gentile world from their shoes when they re-entered the Holy Land. The Apostles are likewise to shake the dust off their feet as a testimony that they’re moving on through no fault of their own but because of the place’s rejection of their mission and message.

 

What does all this mean for us. The takeaway, I think, is the paradox that this parish, like any parish, is most likely to grow when we take our minds off growth as a goal and focus instead on the mission. The question we need to be asking is not, “What can we do to attract more members?” but instead, “How is God calling us to live into our identity, vocation, and ministry as St Mark’s Episcopal Church in Warwick, Rhode Island? What do we need to be doing to fulfill our mission as an Episcopal parish in our time and place?” As we try to be faithful to the mission, some will indeed reject us. Such is the mystery of human freedom. But others will find themselves drawn to join us as we move forward in that mission together.