“Jesus said to them, ‘A prophet is not without honour except in his home town, among his relatives and in his own home.'” (Mark 6:4)
It turns out that procrastination until ‘tomorrow’ and nostalgia for ‘yesterday’ are both ways of avoiding the present moment, and the opportunities and the challenges it brings. In living our lives before God, we would be wise to seek the Lord while he may be found, and to call on him while he is near.
It’s a common saying that ‘there’s no time like the present’. It is also true that circumstances can conspire to obscure that truth. The alarm reminding us that it’s time to wake up sounds at exactly the time we set it last night. We reach out to stop the alarm, or to hit the snooze button, and we begin to calculate just how much longer we can afford to lie there motionless before we absolutely have to get up. Unless the alarm goes again, we may lose track of time, or even doze off again, before we finally accept that there’s no time like the present to be up and about.
The Bible reading we have just heard tells us that there is no time like the present, even though circumstances may conspire to obscure that truth. It tells us this in two stories, which we will consider one after another.
First, we read at the very beginning of the chapter that Jesus ‘went to his hometown’ and ‘began to teach in the synagogue’, where ‘many who heard him were amazed’. The reported speech of the people who heard him is given in verses 2 and 3, and it’s a great example of the way people think aloud and sometimes change their minds halfway through what they’re saying. At the beginning, they’re amazed by him, but by the end, they take offence at him. This is how their words come out in ‘The Message’ transliteration of the Bible: ‘We had no idea he was this good! How did he get so wise all of a sudden, and get such ability? He’s just a carpenter – Mary’s boy. We’ve known him since he was a kid. We know his brothers, James, Justus, Jude, and Simon, and his sisters. Who does he think he is?’ And the way ‘The Message’ gets across the idea that they took offence at him is by saying ‘they tripped over what little they knew about him, and fell sprawling, and they never got any further’.
It is an astonishing turnaround. You could call it a de-conversion. And in response to it, Jesus utters the famous words that ‘only in his hometown is a prophet without honour’. He was owed honour as a prophet, yes, and as more than a prophet, more than his home town knew, he was owed honour as the Messiah and Son of God. And, he being right there in front of them, there was no time like the present to give him that honour. Yet the circumstances were not favourable. The crowd had clutched cynical unbelief from the jaws of faith. They had closed their minds and hearts against him, on the strength of what they thought they knew. And so it is written that ‘he was amazed at their lack of faith’ and ‘could not do any miracles there’, or hardly any.
Sometimes people say, ‘Oh, if only I had lived in Galilee in the first century, and heard Jesus teach, and seen him perform miracles, well then I would certainly have believed – but as matters stand, I don’t live in the first century, and so I can’t believe’. In response to this, and in view of our Bible reading, we may say that actually things are much. much worse than this. Hearing Jesus teach and seeing him perform miracles was no guarantee of believing. There were many living in the first century who heard and saw and yet did not believe. Back then, as it is now, faith is not a virtue which we must nurture, but a gift, the replenishment of which we must pray for daily.
That saying that Jesus ‘could not do any miracles there’ is quite remarkable. In the Gospel of Matthew where the same story is told, we read that Jesus did not do many miracles there because of their lack of faith’ (Matthew 13:58), but Mark dials it up a notch by saying that ‘he could not do any miracles there’ as a result. The best way of understanding this is probably not to stress Jesus’ inability to perform miracles per se, but rather the fact that the exercise of this power in adverse circumstances, where faith was absent, would not be beneficial, and might even be counter-productive.(1) Already in Mark chapter 3, the teachers of the law had accused Jesus of working miracles by the power of the devil. At least if there were no miracles at Nazareth, a similar suspicion would not arise.
This was not the only time the scope and nature of Jesus’ mission placed constraints on his miracle-working activity. In the Garden of Gethsemane, when one of his disciples pulled a sword on the gang who had come to arrest him, after saying that ‘all who draw the sword will die by the sword’, Jesus added ‘Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But how would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?’ (Matthew 13:52-54). So there was no miracle escape that night. Likewise, once Jesus was condemned to death and crucified, those who passed by taunted him by saying ‘Let this Christ, this King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe’ (Mark 15:32). Once again, there was no miracle escape. Once again, the nature of Jesus’ mission placed constraints on his miracle-working.
These minor miracles, if they had taken place, would have done nothing to promote faith of those whose hearts had been hardened against him. These minor miracles had to give way to the greatest miracle of all: Jesus ‘now crowned with glory and honour, because he suffered death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone’ (Hebrews 2:9) – including the hard-hearted people of Nazareth, and indeed hard-hearted people everywhere. ‘Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts’ (Hebrews 3:7,15). There is no time like the present for us to give him due glory and honour, because he suffered death for our sake, and in so doing became the greatest miracle-worker of all, which is to say, he became our Saviour from sin and death.
And now in the second story from our Bible reading, we see again that there is no time like the present, even though circumstances may conspire to obscure that truth. The rejection of Jesus at Nazareth ‘is intimately related to the subsequent mission of the twelve’ by the placing of these two stories side by side, according to William Lane, the author of a book on the Gospel of Mark. Both stories feature ‘the tension between faith and unbelief’, and ‘there is a distinct indication’ in the second story ‘that the disciples [may] also experience rejection’.(2)
Jesus gives his disciples some eye-catching directions concerning how to prepare for, and go about, their journey: ‘Take nothing for the journey except a staff – no bread, no bag, no money in your belts. Wear sandals but not an extra tunic. Whenever you enter a house, stay there until you leave that town.’ These are to be understood as instructions to suit the particular set of circumstances in which the disciples might reasonably expect a glad welcome for their message, and should accept hospitality from their willing hosts. If they expected to have to fend for themselves, they would have had to take bread, bags, money, and an extra tunic for warmth during nights spent out in the open. As it was, they did not. Jumping around from one host to another would communicate disdain for the generosity of the first person that opened their home to the guests. That is why they were advised against it.
These instructions should not be understood as holding good for all time and in all places. We read elsewhere in the Gospels that Jesus later called his disciples to him and said ‘When I sent you without purse, bag, or sandals, did you lack anything? But now if you have a purse, take it, and also a bag; and if you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one’ (Luke 22:35-36). He gave these instructions in view of the coming crisis, when what was written about him would reach its fulfilment (cf. Luke 22:37). It’s not as if he wanted his disciples to use swords to defend him or attack others – as we have already been reminded, that is not the way he rolled. But the circumstances were no longer favourable, and a welcome was no longer likely.
Jesus willingly walked into the eye of that storm for us. If we want to talk about inauspicious circumstances, let’s talk about the Son of God pinned to a cross, defenceless and dying, his life-blood draining away. Yet out of that humiliating defeat came his most glorious victory and vindication. We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you, because by your holy cross and by your life-blood poured out for us, you have redeemed the world.
Even back in Mark chapter 6, a welcome was not guaranteed, and Jesus gives his disciples a steer concerning what to do when they encounter push-back: ‘If any place will not welcome you or listen to you, shake the dust off your feet when you leave as a testimony against them’. It was customary for observant Jews to shake the dust off their feet whenever they returned from travelling in Gentile countries, to ensure that no foreign soil made it into Israel. So to shake the dust off your feet when leaving an Israelite town or village, as a testimony against them, is a confronting thing to do. It is performance art with the sharpest of points.
Such a town or village might benefit from a stark reminder of exactly what it was they were rejecting. We have that reminder near the end of our reading: The disciples ‘went out and preached that people should repent’ – not on the previous day, presumably, nor on the following day, but on the very day they heard the message, they should repent, turn around and go the other way, believe the good news of the coming kingdom, there being no time like the present.
This is a message that will always meet with a degree of resistance, perhaps a high degree of resistance. ‘I will not repent today. I’ve got my pride to think about. I may consider repenting tomorrow, so ask me then. Today you’ve caught me at a bad time.’ Or else, ‘I repented yesterday, and today I have nothing of which I need to repent. Who do you think you are, saying I should turn around and go the other way?’
We are not always in the right mood to repent, and if we wait until we are in the right mood, we may be waiting some time, or who knows, the opportunity may pass completely, never to return. Wherever the gospel is faithfully preached, the call to repentance will be issued in season and out of season. We will not always be here in church to hear and respond to it, and the Spirit of God will not always strive with humankind. Yet here we are in church today, not far from the kingdom of God, and repentance is the open door through which today we are invited to walk. Never mind yesterday or tomorrow, there is no time like the present to lament our many sins and failings, and honour the Son of God who died and rose again to grant us forgiveness and new life.
Have you noticed how much easier it is to get up out of bed when the alarm sounds in the summer, when it is light and warm, than it is in the winter, when it is dark and cold? It’s always true that there’s no time like the present, but sometimes circumstances make it easier, and sometimes circumstances make it harder, to be accepting of this. While we are in season, while it is an opportune time, today if we hear his voice, let us not harden our hearts, but open them to the grace of God in Jesus Christ our Lord.
(1) Cf. William L. Lane, Thegospel According to Mark, p. 204.
(2) Ibid.