“And they took offense at him. But Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and in his own household.” And he did not do many mighty works there, because of their unbelief.”
Matthew 13:57-58
Last autumn, we spent a weekend with my wider family. Nine adults, eight kids, lots of food, stories, memories, laughter, and fun. When family works, it is beautiful. It is familiarity mixed with longevity, relationships built on the deepening foundation of lots and lots of time. There is something special about spending time with those who knew you as a child, where those relationships have kept going—through life changes and choices, births and deaths, plans made and plans changed. It is a deep sense of being easily and restfully known.
Home is a concept that is deeper than place.
Jesus’ return to Nazareth, though, is so different. He goes to the place of familiar faces and stories, accents and idioms. He goes to the place where, for many, we’d expect Him to be most deeply known. I wonder how it felt for Him. The familiar sights, places, people, names. The big characters and those close childhood friends. The kids who had grown taller and the adults who had grown fatter. The streets and backstreets, the landmarks, the trees, the views. Those things that Jesus had been steeped in since childhood.
And yet, as He returns, He returns different. He teaches, and they find this difficult. He has been working miracles, and, rather than seeing the wonder of this, they find it to be discomforting. They don’t like the new Jesus. They liked the old one; the predictable on; the one who fit into their boxes.
A prophet is not without honour except in his hometown.
Why does this principle hold? Why do we sometimes experience elements of this too—when we step out into new ventures, and those closest to us seem threatened by it, rather than excited by our expanding journey?
Why does Jesus go to the place where He should be been able to be most Himself, and find this to be so unwelcoming?
I think it is this:
They thought they knew who Jesus was. They were comfortable with Jesus the carpenter. They were comfortable with Jesus the son of Mary. They were comfortable with Jesus the big brother of James, Joseph, Simon and Judas, not to mention His sisters.
They were comfortable.
And yet their comfort with their blinkered worldview meant they missed their greatest opportunity.
Because they missed this greatest thing. Jesus, the Lord of history and the King of God’s eternal Kingdom, had walked among them. Their hometown, their streets, their local shops, their synagogue. What should have been their greatest source of celebration became their undoing.
They thought they knew already who He was.
Their preconception blocked their perception.
It’s so easy to do this. Psychologists call this ‘confirmation bias.’ It is the tendency to selectively absorb those pieces of information that fit your existing worldview, whilst ignoring all evidence that would contradict it. It is the mindset of guarded security, but it is also the mindset of the one blinkered to new vision, new possibilities, new insights.
Following Jesus can become like this. We can become accustomed to the Jesus we think we know. We can try and put God into a box that fits the measure of our own understanding, rather than the measure of His immeasurability.
But here’s the thing. However good you think He is, He is better. However magnificent you understand His cause to be, it is greater. However deeply you understand yourself to be loved, His love goes deeper still.
New insights. Boxes smashed. And a hometown mentality invaded by cosmic truths.
Reflect:
Think back over what the Lord has been speaking to you about in these past weeks. Where have you found Him most consistently expanding your understanding of Him?
Pray:
Lord Jesus,
I give you permission.
Open my mind,
Grant me insight,
And help me to see you afresh.
Where I have put you in boxes,
Boxes that simply affirm what I already think, or ideas that I find comfortable and homey,
I give you permission:
Open my mind, expand my thoughts,
And take me deeper: You are endlessly greater still.
The heavens cannot contain you.
And so why should I try?
Lead me not just to be a person of deepening understanding,
But to be a person of endless wonder.
I give you permission.
Here you are welcome. And here you are honoured.
In Your Name
Amen.
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
Genesis 44-45 | Psalm 13