tells Philip to follow him, and Philip does (most scholars believe that Jesus had been teaching for some time before actually encouraging people to be his disciples, but note that what we do when we talk this way is lessen the dramatic nature of that call, which is the part that bothers us the most). Nathanael might be a more difficult disciple, but Jesus simply tells him a couple of facts, one of which Jesus should not have been able to know, and he decides to leave everything to follow Jesus, as well.
It is not the fact that Samuel or Philip or Nathanael decide to pursue God or Jesus in these passages, as any of us who profess to be Christian would say that we do the same. What does bother us is that there seems to be no reflection, no thought put into the process. Instead, God or Jesus simply speaks or appears, and the people respond. We would take time to think through the matter today, perhaps form a committee to help us decide if we were really hearing from God or not, explore all of our options, then make a reasoned and well-researched choice. When we hear from God (if we even use that terminology), we hear over the course of weeks or months or even years.
Part of our reluctance to embrace these stories is that we don’t want God to enter our lives in such a dramatic fashion. We want to be certain we are doing what is right, that we have done our due diligence, as we often say, before we take action. We want to have plans in place—even back-up plans in case our primary plan doesn’t work—so there are no surprises once we make the choice. We want to know rather than simply to believe that God is calling us into some major decision.
A larger part of our hesitation, though, is that we just don’t believe God truly calls us today, or at least not in any way that is similar to these two passages. We don’t expect to be lying in bed and hear the voice of God calling to us (and calling us by name). We don’t believe we will be outside under a tree and Jesus will want us to follow him. These are stories from a time that has long since passed, and we have work to be done. Even if God were to speak in this way, we wouldn’t hear.
However, the combination of these stories might show us a way that God does, in fact, still speak to us, does still call us to difficult work, even in rather dramatic fashion. Samuel’s story is the one we have the most difficulty with, as most of us go through life never hearing God’s voice calling our name in the dark of night. However, we should note that it is Eli who helps him understand that God is speaking to him, even telling him what to say. In the account from John, the author of that gospel shows Philip going to talk to Nathanael, even having to convince him to come and see Jesus, as Nathanael is the quintessential skeptic.
Perhaps one of the major ways we hear from God in our world (and have always heard from God) is through other people, sometimes even those committees I slightly mocked earlier. We need to see the Philips and Elis of our lives who are trying to get us to listen, to hear whatever it is God wants us to do with our lives. They are ministers, certainly, but, more often, they are friends or family members or co-workers or people we meet once at a party or sporting event or on the bus or subway. If we are open to hearing the voice of God, we should listen to their encouraging us to be this or do that or go there and have the courage to act upon those comments.
We might not hear God call our names at night or see Jesus underneath a tree, but the community we find in one another often speaks the words of God to us when we’re willing to hear. God might be trying to tell us about a great work we can do in the world, but we’re unable to hear because we read stories about Philip and Nathanael and Samuel and Eli, and we think God doesn’t talk to us like that. God speaks in ways we can hear in a world very different than the one we read about, but God is still speaking, nonetheless.
Questions for Reflection or Discussion:
When or how have you felt God calling or speaking to you throughout your life?
What are some times when you have acted more on faith than on well thought-out plans?
Exceptionalism
Third Sunday After the Epiphany
Luke 4:16–30
Jonah 3:1–5, 10
While the gospel of John begins with the wedding at Cana as Jesus’s first public appearance, the author of Luke places Jesus’s appearance in the synagogue at Nazareth at the beginning of Jesus’s ministry. It’s clear, even from the text, that this account isn’t actually Jesus’s first appearance, as he makes reference to the Nazarenes having heard what he did in Capernaum. For the author of Luke, though, this event is important enough that he wanted to use it immediately after Jesus’s time in the wilderness, wanted to set up Jesus’s ministry with it.
Part of that inclination probably comes from Jesus’s reading from Isaiah, as it clearly echoes Mary’s Magnificat that the author of Luke uses in the first chapter. There is a strong emphasis on a reversal of the status quo, a turning-upside-down of the world as it currently stands in Jesus’s reading, which will become a trend in the gospel of Luke. Jesus’s dramatic declaration that this scripture “has been fulfilled in [their] hearing” makes clear what this gospel will focus on.
However, it is not just this opening quote from Isaiah that sets a tone for the gospel of Luke. After Jesus reads that scripture and makes his declaration, people receive him warmly; they are “amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth” and talk about his being “Joseph’s son.” In fact, it’s not clear why Jesus reacts to those comments by criticizing the Nazarenes and why he believes they do not (or will not) accept him. One possibility comes from their mentioning his being Joseph’s son, though, as they seem rather proud of that fact. One reading of this part of the story is that they are trying to claim him as their own, that they want to emphasize the fact that he’s one of them.
The rest of this passage certainly supports such a reading, as Jesus wants to make it clear to those in the synagogue that he has not come solely for the Israelites. He spends the rest of his time in the synagogue criticizing any focus on Israel as special, in fact. He reminds them that God has provided for surrounding countries in the past, even while not supporting Israel. He references Elijah and Elisha, two of the most important prophets, as if he is setting himself in their lineage. It’s easy to see that the author of this gospel simply wants to remind people that Jesus has come for the Gentiles as well as the Jews, but this passage goes well beyond that to show not just a broadening of Jesus’s message, but times where God ignored the needs of Israel.
Jesus, though, isn’t trying to say his ministry is not for the Jews, as his actions throughout this and the other gospels clearly show that it is. Instead, he wants to remind them that they are not exceptional, that they are part of an entire world that God loves and that Jesus will serve, so he draws on two well-known examples to do so. He is making it clear that the Messiah they expected—the one who would overthrow Rome and create a new Israel—is not who he will be. Instead, he will heal and feed everyone who needs healing and feeding, no matter where they come from or who they are.
The people of Nineveh from Jonah serve as a contrast to the Israelites in Luke, as they hear Jonah’s message, and they immediately repent. Where the Israelites are angry that Jesus has pointed out their shortcomings and react with violence, the Ninevites respond with repentance, proclaiming a fast and putting on sackcloth. These two responses definitely serve as examples of how individuals can respond, but they also illustrate how we talk and think about countries, as well.
On a regular basis, people in the public sphere have a debate about whether or not America is a “Christian nation.” Sometimes, that discussion comes around Christmas when there is a debate about whether people in retail or in service industries should wish people a Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays. Politicians often use America’s supposed Christian heritage when they are running for office or trying to pass bills that represent their view of Christianity (and of America), whether that be issues such as abortion and same-sex marriage or more directly faith-based legislation, such as prayer in schools.
All too often, Christian Americans respond as the Israelites, though, not as the Ninevites, taking any criticism of the way they blend their national and Christian identities as an attack on what they perceive to be the very foundations of both. While it doesn’t lead to anyone threatening to throw someone over a cliff, such