Ezekiel 2:1-5; Psalm 123; 2 Corinthians 12:2-10; Mark 6:1-13
The Rev. Drew Brislin
A week ago, Friday, I learned of the death of a high school classmate. I had known this person at least since third grade as we were in cub scouts together and we became even better friends in high school as we were both on the football team. I went to the funeral which was held at Shiloh Baptist Church in a farming community outside Selma called Sardis. The service was quick, and he was buried at the church cemetery. I stood with several of my old high school friends and teammates as the graveside portion of the service was completed. After the service we visited for a while and began to tell stories about our friend. Now, I think I have mentioned before that I have a nickname “Bruiser” that has stuck with me since those days in high school. While I knew it had come from my days playing football, its exact origin was always a little unclear to me. As we were recalling stories, it was one friend and former teammate who said that our friend who had died was the one who came up with the nickname. As we were leaving, I was exchanging numbers with a friend. He comes to Montgomery often for work, and we were hopeful that one day we might meet to grab lunch. I texted him this is Drew Brislin. He replied, you’re still going in my phone as Bruiser. I have missed my class reunions so far because of various events going on when they were scheduled, and I was especially saddened as I missed opportunities to visit with this friend who had died. However, I was reminded that no matter how much time has passed some memories some recollections of people just stick with you. This morning, we hear that portion of Mark’s Gospel where Jesus goes home, and it seems that the people who watched him grow up still have memories and perceptions of Jesus that haven’t changed despite what has been going on in his life.
Over the last few weeks, we have experienced Jesus interacting with all sorts of people and doing miraculous deeds, power went out from him as he healed the hemorrhaging woman who touched his hem, to restoring a paralytics ability to walk, to exorcising demons, calming a storm in the middle of the sea to finally bringing someone back from the dead. That sounds like a fairly complete resume to me for filling in all the job requirements for title of the Messiah. It seems like the first reaction to people seeing Jesus when he comes home is one of amazement, but then something happens. The people in his hometown are asking where did Jesus get all this knowledge? What is all this wisdom and power and deeds that he has? It is almost as if it sounds too good to be true therefore, they reason that it cannot be true. For one reason or another the capacity for the people in Jesus’ hometown to have faith is exceeded by their capacity to choose to believe in the social norms and expectations of the day. That part of a person’s brain that is practical probably understands the people’s expectations as well. The one person we do not hear mentioned in this story is Jesus’ earthly father Joseph. Subsequently it has been assumed that he has died by many scholars. The people would have been familiar with Jesus growing up and watching him engage in the family business as a carpenter. They would have seen him working and developing a trade skill as a young man. So when he goes off to begin his ministry, it looks kind of exciting at first but then those sort of “real world” issues as we like to call them pop up. Issues for the community, like who is taking care of your mother and sisters, tasks that would have fallen on the oldest sibling son when Joseph died. While Jesus’ mother knew who he was and His purpose in life, this was not so obvious to others within the community. I can only imagine the judgement that others held. Questioning under their breath, “Why is he going out traversing the countryside doing all sorts of miracles while his mother and sisters are at home with no one to take care of them? Doesn’t he know what his responsibilities are?” Then Jesus responds, “Prophets are not without honor except in their own hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.” The people have a preconceived notion of Jesus that comes from their only experience of Him and Jesus in turn reveals to us a little of his own humanity in his frustration with these criticisms being made about him. I would like to think that my reaction would be different, but we all see through the reality of our own experiences of the world. The people of Nazareth expect to see Jesus the way that they have always seen and known him as an ordinary, hardworking man. Not the religious thinker and healer who is the one true son of the One Living God who preaches wisdom.
I’ll never forget when Allison and I arrived at Camp McDowell for our Cursillo weekend, and I saw so many people from Selma who were on staff. This was prior to us going to seminary. Those on staff who knew me growing up all seemed somewhat perplexed. They said they saw my name as a participant and wondered if it was me. No not the Bruiser name but the name Drew as I had not lived in Selma for many years, their last recollection of me was knowing that I was a member of the church next door. How was it that I had come to The Episcopal Church? I remember telling the story several times as I was quizzed multiple times about my conversion. I had a wonderful experience that weekend that allowed me to reconnect with people who had been a part of my life growing up.
As I was exchanging numbers with my friend earlier this week after the funeral, I told him that I hoped we could get together soon. That I hated that I missed the last reunion, especially now in the wake of our friend’s death. I suggested that we might soon need to start having our reunions every 5 years while we were still good at getting around and still fairly young. To those classmates and to many friends I will always be “Bruiser.” Allison mentioned to me the other day that several friends told her when we first started dating that it was several years into those friendships before they knew my real name. Being a priest and knowing the etiquette within the church some friends have even asked if they can call me Fr. Bruiser or The Rev. Bruiser. I like to think that nickname stirs memories, hopefully good memories, for those who use it. So often time doesn’t allow us to outrun memories. Over the course of time, we change, and we are challenged to let go of the preconceptions we have of people based on our memories. When do we not let go of our preconceived notions of people and let those notions get in the way of our relationships with others? When we make judgements about people based on our history and preconceptions of people are we missing out on something? Are we making judgements about how and through whom God can work? What are we missing out on because of our unwillingness to believe that God can work wonders in our lives and those we have met along the way?