“The Edge of the Cliff”
“The Edge of the Cliff”
Fourth Sunday of Epiphany, Year C, February 2, 2025 rm
Psalm 71:1-6, 1 Corinthians 13:1-13, (Luke 4:14-21), Luke 4:21-30
First Presbyterian Church of Sandpoint, Idaho
Pastor Andy Kennaly
Today as we read Luke we pick up where we left off last week as Jesus gives a reading, a teaching, and everyone is impressed. Qualities of the first half of life are highlighted as we see strengths, such as the nurture of an identity, the security of belonging to a group, and the affirmation of truth found by ascribing to narratives of tradition. Today is part two in the sense of a shift to the second half of life, and like many changes, this one is abrupt and a source of conflict and trauma. In this brief scene, the people go from praise and admiration to rage and hostile agitation to the point of attempted murder. They step outside to throw Jesus off a cliff!
There is one thing we need to remember as Jesus says, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” This verse is so pivotal, the Lectionary Planners include it in both last week and this week’s readings. That is one of the only times in the three-year cycle that this overlap happens. Something about the Greek language the original text was written in; the Perfect tense is a type of verb, showing an action that is already complete, and even though it’s done, there’s also a sense that the action is ongoing, continually being done, and always needing done. Remember how we ended with a final thought last week, by looking at the thread woven through the readings, the mentioning of hearing. Jesus says, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
Like David Lose says, this scripture “is fulfilled and continues to be fulfilled and will keep being fulfilled and therefore will keep needing to be fulfilled in your presence.’” (http://www.davidlose.net/2019/01/epiphany-3-c-declaration-promise-and-invitation/ David Lose’ online commentary, Partners in Preaching, posted Jan. 23, 2019)
Like an echo, it is heard, it is heard, it is heard, and in their hearing this scripture is fulfilled. That is different than listening. Listening and hearing are different, just like cure and healing are different. Cure fixes you from ailment, but healing is wholistic, mind, body, soul. Listening is technical, but hearing involves receiving, responding, and embodying.
Jesus has a reputation as a healer, a miracle worker. His home-town crowd is filled with expectations that they will benefit from one of their own using this quality to enrich them, to usher in a Golden Age. But Jesus tries to teach them that they have these qualities, that the scripture is fulfilled as they interact and live it out. But he quickly points out their blind greed and he uses a couple of religiously charged, cultural examples to show how humans so easily miss the point when it comes to living a spiritual life in community with each other, with God, and the Earth. When he calls them out on this, challenges the limitations of their perspectives, this reveals the intensity of their racial, cultural violence, and like most things that feel threatened, they react and try to destroy him. This story is an illustration of well-defended egos that circle the wagons in defense, and labels anything outside the boundary as an enemy, one that needs defeated.
In this teaching, Jesus embodies divine declaration, promise, and invitation, and the story itself is the illustration of the importance of inner transformation at a heart level, because our mind, like the people of Nazareth, rejects this teaching. Rationalism doesn’t have the bandwidth to do spiritual work at a soul-level, not without heart-space to give balance.
Jesus preaches to his hometown crowd, as they switch from praise to attempted murder in reaction to his challenging their sense of nationalism. He points out their arrogance and assumptions, and calls them out on the difference between what they say they believe and how they actually live that out. But the dynamics of the Gospel story also have another reason for such drama, one which ties into the subtleties of this text in a different way, less of a social righteous angle, and more about inner awareness. Feelings.
I’ve seen bumper stickers around here that say, “I don’t care about your feelings.” But feelings are feelings, and they need to be recognized because they are coming from somewhere, deeper inside of us. We all carry feelings, sometimes of anger or rejection, like those who put strange bumper stickers on their rigs, or hopelessness in the sense of feeling small compared to international politics or presidential policies and powers that take actions which seem contrary to love. Sometimes our sense of hope waffles; we try to trust a larger consciousness, but really, find it easy to be discouraged. When despair and hope wrestle, life can be hard, and like the Psalmist who seeks refuge and deliverance, we all have feelings which need expressed and explored.
Power. Justice. Peace. Unity. Hope. All these themes mix down in the depths of our own attitudes and assumptions, our own sense of patriotism, of exploring where our heart is amid the mind’s wrestling.
Here we have Jesus quoting Isaiah, saying “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,” and we hear there is good news to the poor, release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, and even the oppressed go free. I want this done. Not a perfect verb tense, but past tense. But Jesus on that day shows us the burden of getting involved in the ongoing struggle, to engage not only cultural assumptions that people stake their lives on, but the very mentality that creates this dynamic. Jesus calls for nothing less than a change of consciousness. Oh, if only this was simple!
We are called to partner with God, not so much to create believers with minds that have the right thoughts according to our measurements, but to make disciples whose hearts are renewed, and find their center in Christ, whether they use the vocabulary of institutional religion and doctrinal faith, or not. In fact, in our cultural context that language will likely be rejected, although the sentiment, the spiritual longing, remains.
This Gospel story, as it echoes through the ages with parallel stories, illustrates the difficulty and absolute necessity for the transformation of the human heart. We see and experience the murderous tyranny created by unhealthy egos that protect their position, the dangers created by attachment, even as we discover the amazing conversion that takes place when we find our center in Christ, who embodies the ongoing action of the only thing which truly matters, Love, which is God.
Love is imperfect, as far as Greek verbs go. Already done. Being done. Always needing done. Love never ends.
There’s a lot going on in this story. Jesus, the hometown boy arrives as an enlightened, Wisdom teacher with deep, theological invitations. He helps us to explore what it means to live as a human being created in God’s image, how to invite an awareness of God’s Presence, and how we open our hearts to allow that Presence to change our lives. Do you really want that kind change, to allow God to deepen your faith, or are you satisfied?
As the people of Nazareth are filled with rage that moves them to the point of trying to throw Jesus off the cliff, we notice a couple things. One is that it involves everyone, no one is exempt from this very challenging work. “All in the synagogue were filled with rage.” Human ego is not tamed willingly or without struggle. Second, they took him “to the brow of the hill on which their town was built.” In our Christian memory, we hear echoes of the temptation in the wilderness where the devil takes Jesus up on a pinnacle, shows him all the kingdoms of the world, and says Jesus can have them all if he just worships the devil. Jesus responds, saying, “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.” (Luke 4:8). Jesus challenges the human tendency to try and replace God, the technical word being ‘idolatry.’ We don’t give up our idols very easily, and like those villagers in Nazareth, even if we seem satisfied, we are masters at convincing ourselves that we don’t have any idols. Jesus exposes everyone’s delusions because he points out the limitations of our state of consciousness, not only what we think, but how we think, how we perceive reality.
Our mode of thinking is usually dualistic, based on the judgment of our ego, which welcomes that which it understands and rejects everything else. Our circles of acceptance have rigid boundaries, borders we protect from crossing in either direction. If the unknown approaches us we view it with fear, as a threat, and we take action to defend ourselves. This enemy happens to have all the qualities of our own shadow as we project our unprocessed baggage onto the other. This is small-minded thinking. Jesus invites humanity into a Larger Mind, a Deeper Consciousness, a Centered Presence, a Relational Unity, and the response to this invitation has been, is now, and always needs to be through Love; love which is so grounded, boundaries become permeable; love so secure, it has nothing to defend; love that has learned the art of letting go.
Notice Jesus doesn’t curse or condemn the people, doesn’t call down lighting to zap them on that hill. Here he is on the edge of the cliff, all the people of the synagogue defending the boundary of their will, the entire town and everything it’s built on, which represents more than structure and architecture, and Jesus “passed through the midst of them and went on his way.” This is an existential statement, not a description of how Jesus escaped their grip. Jesus reaches a limit in his life and transcends that limit. Jesus stands on the boundary of his circle of comfort and discovers the illusion of separation and how that self-imposed line doesn’t exist. Jesus takes all the teaching and fulfills it, then, now, and always. “Jesus went on his way” and his way is a journey of love, deeper into wisdom, oneness, patience, compassion, and humility.
One of my favorite quotes in all the world is from Paul Reese Nystrom, who died a few years ago from cancer. He wrote this:
“It is only at the very edge of the cliff, at the most dangerous part, does one get the entire view.”
Jesus teaches us how to get to the very edge and shows us how to see beyond limitations to get the entire view. We are invited to participate in the holy dance of life freed from the constraints of dualism, without the need to defend, holding loosely that which we once clung to with attachment, and trusting the power of love, which is the greatest gift and puts all other gifts like faith and hope in their proper alignment and perspective.
We are invited to follow Jesus on the way through the difficult struggles and temptations we face as we live into a deeper Reality defined by grace, where even things we typically view as opposites, like freedom and captivity, blindness and sight, oppression and freedom, are held together in paradox grounded in the deep mysteries of God, our refuge and deliverer.
May we, like Jesus, have courage to come alongside prophetic voices which teach truth and challenge the human tendency to idolatry and tyranny; to claim hope and faith during struggle and difficulty; but most of all, to embody love which creates, defines, and declares the deep peace of Christ in and for the world. As we heed Christ’s invitation to gather around this table which is prepared to celebrate union and embodiment of love in action, may we follow Jesus to live into our calling as Christ’s body given and sent. And in all things, may God be glorified, NOW, even as forever. Amen.