This was the moment many had been waiting for. Local boy returns in triumph! Imagine the buzz in the temple – neighbours nudging one another. “I knew him when he was only this tall!” “He is making quite a name for himself.” “I can hardly wait to hear what he has to say…”

And then he says it. Good new to the poor. Release for the captives. Sight to the blind. The year of the Lord’s favour.

Jesus takes on the mantle of the prophet – proclaims that the words are brought to life right in front of their eyes. The kingdom has come – and it starts here, in Nazareth!

Last week I hinted at this text. Jesus making his home-town debut. Initially, the people are delighted. But as the message sinks in, a different emotion takes over.

It turns out it’s one thing to speak the truth to power. It’s something else altogether to speak truth to those who are privileged. And to hear your privilege confronted by the truth can be…unbearable.

The story turns on Jesus words: ‘Doctor, cure yourself…no prophet is accepted in his hometown.’ You’d be right to wonder why he would say such a thing. The congregation seemed to be on board until that moment. Whatever the reason, Jesus is opening up new and challenging possibilities.

And then Jesus invokes the dream team. Elijah and Elisha – both working hard in God’s service (back in the day) each of them performing wonders…outside the comfortable borders of the faith.

This is not really an ‘us against them’ moment. It is a ‘but we deserve a miracle’ moment, and it doesn’t look like it will happen.

Jesus brings good news for the poor – and surely there are poor folk in the crowd – but his examples from Jewish Scripture make it clear: this good news is not your personal property. The world will benefit. And God will be glorified.

I think it’s safe to say that we want similar things…for all the right reasons. As people of faith in a world that sometimes leaves us gasping in horror, the idea of a peace that passes understanding – good news of great joy that reveals the real glory of God – what’s not to like about that?

Even so – it becomes a challenge when Jesus speaks truth to our particular privilege.

It turns out that justice for the oppressed comes at a cost – not just to the oppressors, but to those who declared themselves neutral. When the eyes of the blind are opened, they describe what they see from a new and sometimes unsettling perspective. Social programs cost money and offer the greatest benefit to those who typically contribute the least (or in some cases, contribute nothing at all.)

Our commitment to Jesus’ call on our lives should have us saying “AMEN! – let it be so. Let us share so all may have enough!” But our privilege asks, ‘What about me? How will it affect me?’

We have been known to grumble when we are taxed for social programs or canvassed for emergency relief. We have said (though maybe only to ourselves) ‘if only they worked hard, they could solve their own problems.’ Our privilege lays the blame in the wrong places – as far from us as we can put it. And that same privilege wants the credit – the benefit – the glorious relief to be as close to us as possible.

When it becomes clear that Jesus is talking about grand designs and sweeping patterns of grace – deep and wide and for the benefit of all – that’s when they decide to march him to the cliff.

Early interpreters tried to make this particular gospel story a ‘Jews against the Christians’ story. But there are no Christians present.

Just Jesus, with his wild and wonderful ideas about how God engages with the world, and his fellow Nazarenes, who know that they are part of God’s covenant – and who have imagined that the covenant must privilege them over others.

Jesus reminds them of God’s history of broad action. Naaman the Syrian gets relief from the man of God. The widow in Sidon finds comfort too. And neither of these people had any previous connection to the God of Abraham, Isaac & Jacob. God (as it happens) is famous for thinking, working and loving ‘outside the lines.’

Our challenge continues to be how do we work with God – who continues to urge us to see more – to cast the net of grace further (and over a different side of the boat.) Our challenge is to resist the impulse to narrow the field and help only ourselves to the abundant grace that is all around us. No doubt that impulse would make our lives easier. But the call of the gospel – the mission of the church of Jesus Christ – is not ‘divide and conquer’ but rather elevate and celebrate.

In his home congregation, Jesus dared to say, ‘God cares about someone else too.’ Jesus’ stark examples were a wake-up call to the people of God – a reminder that, by any definition, God’s people always include more variety and diversity – more range of opinion and practice – than we could ever imagine.

Our vision easily becomes limited by our own circumstances. Jesus reminds us that God’s vision is vast and limitless. And Thanks be to God, that good news knows no bounds.