Church on Morgan
The Fog of Familiarity
[MUSIC PLAYING] From Church on Morgan, a United Methodist congregation whose desire is to be a reminder of the beauty of God and each other. This podcast is a collection of Sunday teachings inspired by the revised Common Lectionary and recorded weekly in Raleigh, North Carolina. And now a moment of silence before this episode begins. [MUSIC PLAYING] In today, we have before us a passage of scripture that highlights how easy it can be to miss the forest for the trees. Today's story were reminded that if our lens is too small, sometimes we miss the big picture. Sometimes we miss it entirely. This story comes to us from the book of Mark, here now the word of the Lord. He left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. On the Sabbath, he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands? Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joseph and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us? And they took offense at him. Then Jesus said to them, prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house. And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them, and he was amazed at their unbelief. Then he went out among the villages, teaching. He called the 12 and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He ordered them to take nothing for their journey, except a staff, no bread, no bag, no money in their belts, but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. He said to them, whenever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. If any place will not welcome you, and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them. So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out many demons and anointed with oil, many who were sick and cured them. This is the word of God for us, the people of God. Well, have you ever been invited back to like your high school to talk to kids about how you got to where you are and sort of inspire them? Me neither, I hear that people get invited back to do that kind of thing, sounds like a nice invitation. But I can imagine that's sort of how Jesus might have felt, returning to his hometown of Nazareth. I mean, he's on a huge winning streak so far in Mark. Game one, he's secured 12 loyal disciples. Game two, he got rid of some demons. Game three, he healed sick people. Game four, he calmed a storm. Game five, he raised a little girl from the dead. I mean, who knows what might be possible on his home court? They invited Jesus to teach in a synagogue in his hometown on the Sabbath. And I imagine he was excited to do that. And it starts out all right. They marvel at his wisdom and his stories. But then there's a turn, you can hear it in the text. They say, wait, isn't that like the handyman? Isn't that Mary's son? A smear that was likely intended to suggest that he had no father. And their astonishment turns to offense as they agreed together that surely nothing powerful could come from this place. Who does he think he is? Somehow, familiarity breeds blindness. We look at something enough and we think we have seen all there is to see. I invite you for a moment, if you feel comfortable to do so, to close your eyes. And point at a piece of green pottery, somewhere in this room, keeping your eyes closed, point towards a piece of green pottery. Remembering what you can. Bolder decisions people, bold, arms outstretched, fail big towards a piece of green pottery. If you don't know, take a guess. Open your eyes, see how you did. That's what we serve our communion out of in all the four corners of the room. Liz Kelly created some beautiful green pottery. And we've also got by our baptismal font. Yes, a pot of water that's green. Okay, close your eyes again. This time, take in the room a little more before you do, and close your eyes again without opening them. Point to a plant. Point to a plant. Open your eyes, see how you did. We've got some clinging on for dear life back there near the windows. Okay, last one, take in the room one more time. Close your eyes. Point to the drums. Point to the drum kit. Make a choice, make a choice. Open them. Trick question, we're unplugged today. But we store our drums right back there next to Zach. Who knows it, he's one of our drummers, that's right. We always store them back there in the corner when they're not on stage. So give yourself a little grade, how'd you do? How are your powers of observation in this space that many of you know well? I suspect, actually, that if it's one of your first times with us, you might have done better in that exercise. Your powers of observation are more highly attuned when you come into a new place. The more we return to something, the more the picture sort of starts to blur. It was hardest, somehow, for those closest to Jesus to see who he was becoming. Perhaps it can be hardest for us also to recognize God in the places and the people we know best. I imagine many of us would have treated Jesus the same way if he walked into one of our high school reunions. I think this is actually why we secretly love going to high school reunions. We're like, oh, you're a dad now? 'Cause last time I saw you, you were pantsing people in the hallway, right? We get with our old pals, we're like, did you see Joey McGee runs a company? And Tess and Norbert has like millions of followers on Instagram, which is funny because Joey got kicked off the soccer team and I was in the stall next to Tessa when she got her period and thought she was dying, right? Does any of your followers know this? We have a picture frozen in time and we like to hold people to that. I have a high school friend, Alex, who lives here in Raleigh and she doesn't attend our church, but she keeps up with us online. In a while back, we shared a prayer that I had written on Instagram and I was over at her house on a Saturday night and as I was leaving, she said, are you gonna do another weird breathy prayer tomorrow? And I was like, maybe our hometown friends are the ones who keep us humble, right? (audience laughs) I can't imagine honestly how weird it is when one of them becomes like a spiritual leader. It's gotta be strange, we're too close up. The more we know someone, the more we expect them to stay in their lane. And yet, all of us are designed to unfold. The carpenter's son, the bum nephew, the obnoxious coworker, the rude neighbor. We are works in progress. I think this is why summer camp can be such a beautiful experience. Any kids in the room go to a camp this summer? Anybody, yeah, a couple? Any former campers or camp counselors in the room? Yeah, so you've seen this, kids come maybe from all over and they're mixed up in a cabin with 10 other kids who haven't yet decided on who they are. And for a couple of weeks, they get to be the person they're becoming, which sometimes isn't the person they can be quite yet at home. We don't get many details about what Jesus got up to as a kid, but 90% of his life was spent in Nazareth before his ministry began. Sam Wells calls these the hidden years. And I imagine that for much of them, Jesus was just growing up, laughing with his pals, learning how to work with wood, which must have meant not always getting it right, disappointing a few customers with a rickety table or a crooked door frame. And now he's before them unfolding into a preacher of truth, a worker of miracles, the son of God. Of course, his old pals are the last to notice. My sister and I lived together in Chicago for a few years in our 20s. It was wild to choose to live with a sibling at that point in your life, to choose to be that close to each other. And we reverted in all sorts of ways. She told me to stop bossing her around. I told her to stop following me and hanging out with my friends. I mean, you understand how this goes? You celebrate holidays. So not only were we living together, we were also working together. We had created a two-woman show that we were touring around the country. So we logged a lot of minutes together. And growing up, I was sort of the speaker of the house. Like if someone asked us the question, I answered and Jo just kind of trusted me to speak for both of us. So I was astonished. I still remember the coffee shop we were in at one of our tour stops. One of our family friends was hosting us. And we were chatting and we stumbled upon a political issue. It was clear we didn't quite see eye to eye on. And I jumped into my people pleaser thing and started to equivocate and change the subject and make sure she felt comfortable. And all of a sudden, Jo sort of grabbed the mic and she spoke so boldly and courageously and graciously on this issue that I hadn't even totally landed on. In such a way that made our host lean in and invest a little more deeply and a beautiful exchange occurred. And Jo left without having erased herself with her integrity intact. And it was one of many like who is this person moments that I had in that season of life with her. The great novelist Gabriel Marquez when asked about his 30 year relationship with his wife. Here's what he said, I love this. He said, I know her so well now that I have not the slightest idea who she really is. It's a beautiful posture. Do you look at the people nearest to you this way as an endless mystery through whom God longs to reveal more and more of God's self to you? Maybe one of the best gifts of doing life up close with anyone is bearing witness to their becoming which is one of many ways that a God of transformation reveals God's self to us. In her book, The Conscious Parent, author Shefali Sabari says every parent is raising a spirit throbbing with its own signature and our work is to clear the way for its unfolding. Clear the way for their unfolding. How can you clear the way as a parent, as a spouse, a sibling, a coworker, as a roommate for who the people around you are this very moment trying to become? Because when we've already decided who someone is or that we know everything there is to know about them or that they'll always live into this pattern that we've established, we start to look without seeing and see without looking. Take in the room again, and when you're ready, I invite you to close your eyes and point to someone wearing blue. Do your best. Open 'em, see how you did. (audience laughing) (audience laughing) Take in the room, take in the room again, close your eyes, point to the tallest person in your row. Open your eyes, see how you did? Well, Alan, good. All right, one more, close your eyes, close your eyes. Point to a child you did not come with. Kids point to a kid who is not you. (audience laughing) Open your eyes, see how you did. This community, this community we're a part of is ever-changing. Every week, new people join us and others return with new experiences that deepen or obscure or challenge the meaning of our communal worshiping life. This is one of the things actually that I love most about worshiping in the round. The more we get to know each other's stories, the more it takes on meaning when we watch one another move through the liturgy. To watch a grieving father sing worthy of every praise that we could ever bring. To witness someone in a new relationship on the other side of a painful divorce proclaim at the table, Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again. When we do baptisms, to watch empty nesters, you know, are adjusting to that season, joyfully vow to order their lives so that this child may be surrounded by steadfast love. Familiarity should make the whole thing richer, more layers, more meaning. I mean, imagine how much more miraculous it would have been for those who knew Jesus' humanity better than anyone else to witness his miraculous power that day. The gospel message of a God who loved us enough to be with us to come amongst us, where could this have been a more astonishing revelation than in the place where Jesus learned how to crawl? And instead, this was the place where they couldn't accept it. God has given each of us a front row seat to the flowering of his creation. In the people and places we return to again and again. Are we paying attention? Have we let the photo blur? 'Cause the saddest part about the story is that Jesus' power is actually diminished by the blindness of those who know him best. The text says he could do no deed of power there. His earlier miracles had demonstrated that part of the equation was the faith of the person in need. One commentator says this experience in Nazareth was like a match trying to light wet wood. This was his first big failure. It's the only time in all four gospels that Jesus was unable to do something. We suppose our unbelief, which in this story seems to be defined as a failure of imagination, an inability to see, our unbelief has real consequences. We'll never know what might have taken place that day, what old teacher might have had their hearing restored, what cousin might have been freed of his demons, what elderly neighbor might have had some company in the storm. This book that we read together, this is a confessional book written by a family about the family member they rejected. It's the heirloom, no one is proud to pass down, but everyone insists on passing down. Don't miss it, the writers seem to say. Don't be so sure, you know what's possible from who and in what places that you miss the Son of God when he shows up on your block as someone you thought you knew. This God is never not giving himself away to you and the places where that's happening most often are the places where you're most likely to miss it. In the people you live with, in the people you work with, in the faith community you call home, in all the places you're most comfortable with all the people you think you have figured out. I want you to close your eyes one last time. No pop quiz this time. Instead draw inside yourself and bring to mind the face of someone you see every day. Could be a family member, a roommate or a coworker. See how many details you can fill in. Call to mind their freckles, the way they smile, the shade of their skin, the color of their eyes so that you're as zoomed in as those photos we looked at in the beginning. Now consider that this snapshot that you've got in your mind, this is not the full picture. Imagine that this person is unfolding but they will never look this way again, they'll look different tomorrow. They're in the hands of a transforming God, giving God self away to you through the wonder of bearing witness to their evolution. You might ask God now to help you clear the path for their unfolding. For the God revealed to us in Jesus is boundless. You can open your eyes. Just because she was scared of that swim lesson yesterday doesn't mean she will be today. Just because your argument ended in tears last night doesn't mean today can't be different. Just because you didn't feel like you fit in here last Sunday doesn't mean you can't initiate a warm connection today. Just because your country continues to disappoint you doesn't mean it's done unfolding. Just because your parent doesn't understand you now doesn't mean they never will. And if you are the one being told to stay in your lane, if you are looked upon with eyes that decided long ago who you could and couldn't become, well the good news for you today is that we have a God who knows the pain of rejection. And don't miss what happens at the end of today's text. Notice the instructions to his disciples as they set off immediately following this discouraging experience in Nazareth. Jesus tells them to pack light. Don't bring bread or money. One coats all you need, not two. And this is a risky way to travel entirely reliant on the goodwill of those they encounter. Underneath this, Jesus seems to say, do not let the small-mindedness of some shrink your imagination. Answer the unbelief of others by living with extraordinary faith. Don't let rejection convince you that hospitality is not still possible or even likely. Don't over pack. Don't apologize before you get there. Don't armor up. Plan to rely on miracles along the way. How does who I am? Whether or not you have eyes to see it. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Thank you for joining today. If this episode has been meaningful to you, would you take a moment to share it with a friend? To support this ministry or learn more about our community, visit us at churchonmorgan.org. (gentle music) (gentle music) (gentle music) (gentle music) [BLANK_AUDIO]