“Prophets are not without honour, except in their hometown” (Mk. 6:4b)
In the name of the (+) Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
There is an apocryphal story which goes that the publication of Alan Titchmarsh’s first gardening book was greeted by the Ilkley Gazette with the headline “Former Ilkley man writes book about plants”. I’m not sure whether this is precisely correct – perhaps some of you may remember – but it has the ring of truth about it in its use of straight-talking, no-nonsense Yorkshire language so that I can well believe it. These days, if the recent Times interview is to be believed, we treat Mr Titchmarsh like royalty here – though I can’t say I have noticed. Indeed, my conversations about him this week with people have left me thinking that many remember him more for his rather humble beginnings: his parents Bessie (a textile mill worker) and Alan senior (a plumber), his having left Ilkley Secondary Modern School at 15 with few qualifications to work as an apprentice gardener for the local council (which involved tending the gardens in the park here in town). Although I gather he was very good at art, he never realised his talent for gardening until after he’d left school, and so it was via Shipley and Hertfordshire, and then study at the Royal Botanic Gardens in Kew, from where his career in journalism took off.
Now I am sure we are all familiar with Mr Titchmarsh’s achievements in later life, and his popular standing in the country, especially, so I understand, with ladies of a certain age (I gather that his waxwork in Madame Tussaud’s requires twice-weekly cleaning to remove the lipstick stains). But it is interesting that the mention of his name here results in a rather different response compared that which one might expect in the average Middle-England area. Here he is almost counted as one of our kin – the Gazette may have referred to him as a “former” Ilkley man (he left town at the age of twenty), but his local roots were at the heart of their angle on him. The headline highlights that he’d come from here – not that he was any particular authority on horticulture, even though this was doubtless the case by this time.
Is this disrespectful? No, not at all: it’s a local angle on the story, and the local angle is what we all eagerly look forward to each Thursday. Indeed, on that note, there will be a test on the content of my column later. But the serious point to come out of this is that people are always perceived differently by the communities in which they grew and developed. It is perhaps for this reason that Jesus was not received in quite the same way in his home town. People knew him from of old, and more than that – people knew his family and his humble origins. In order to start to inhabit his true vocation, Jesus goes away – we are told, for example, that following his baptism in the Jordan he was led by the Spirit into the wilderness. Going away is often a costly business: it is necessary to leave familiar people and places behind and move beyond our comfort zones. This was something many young people will experience for the first time when they move from school to university. I found my own move from Chelmsford to Durham particularly challenging for a variety of reasons, but it was an important step in my formation – and that of my family’s, too. Likewise, the first time I preached in front of my family was significant, but not because of any nerves about public speaking. Each of us will have a “persona” which develops with independence, and which we allow to drop when we are among our closest friends and family. So there is a certain amount of self-consciousness involved the first time those close to you see this persona in action. This can be the case as much for a soldier, or a police officer. There is also an aspect of this experienced by teachers where their own children are pupils at the same school.
This intimate knowledge can act as a stumbling-block, or a barrier to recognition of the gifts and talents a person has been given beyond their roots. So we are told that the people in Jesus’ hometown took offense at him, and that he could do no deed of power (although of course he did manage to heal some sick people). It seems that their unbelief is at the root of this. Miracles require faith (remember Jesus’ instruction in Jairus’ house last week, “do not fear, only believe”). A lack of faith doesn’t mean healing is impossible – a few sick people were cured in Nazareth – because nothing is impossible with God. But the two go together: Origen likened the effect to a magnet being drawn towards iron. The iron is still present without the magnet, but without it, it is easier for stumbling-blocks to be put in the way.
The rejection of Jesus is the latest example of the rejection by God’s people of those He has sent to them: we read about how the priest Pashhur struck the prophet Jeremiah, and placed him in the stocks. Jeremiah’s reaction is to prophesy Pashuur’s exile to Babylon. Jeremiah’s faith in God was clearly unshakable, however much others may mock him or seek to do him harm.
Such a strong faith was unusual, and resulted in the rejection and derision of those closest to him. As brothers and sisters in Christ, we are called to build one another up in the faith. St Paul instructs the Romans to “welcome those who are weak in faith” and not to pass judgement on them. Whereas for the Romans the issue appears to have been whether or not to abstain from certain foods, for us here today it might, for example, relate to our approach to the question of gender in matters such as marriage and holy orders. The watch-word for Paul is, of course, love. If we create difficulties for one another by what we say and do, and if we judge one another, then we are not acting out of love. Without love, faith cannot flourish. And without faith, without that magnet, drawing the iron – the deeds of power – become much harder.
In such situations, when our prejudices and assumptions come to the fore, it might help to adopt one of the teachings of St Ignatius of Loyola, that
it is necessary to suppose that every good Christian is more ready to put a good interpretation on another’s statement than to condemn it as false.[1]
In other words, we must presuppose that other people’s actions and beliefs stem from good intentions, and seek to understand how they view things on this basis. It is incumbent on us to view others’ beliefs and actions through the eyes of love. In this way, though we might sometimes need to correct others kindly, both Paul and Ignatius show us a way to build each other up in faith. If we are willing to do this – even with those from our own house – then who knows how many more deeds of power may be wrought?
In the name of the (+) Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
[1] Ignatian Presupposition, via http://www.ignatianspirituality.com/12837/when-you-think-someone-is-wrong
Grasping at Holiness 