Ezekiel 2:2-5

Today's passage described the call of the prophet Ezekiel. He was a Jewish priest who, nearly 600 years before Christ, was among those exiled to Babylon. He was to proclaim God's Word to those exiled with him, and God warns him that this will be no easy task.

2 Cor 12:7-10

Paul's whole ministry was beset not only by his own weakness, but also by mistreatment, stress, and persecution. In the passage just preceding today's reading, Paul described some of his visions. But in today's passage, he chooses not to boast of these but rather to talk about how God has worked through him despite his weakness and trials.

Mark 6:1- 6

Bishop Untener's Homily

In this Gospel, you can see a mood shift among the people listening to Jesus. At first, when Jesus began preaching in his hometown synagogue, it says that "they were astounded at his teachings." Then, the shift. They start to ask, "Where did this man get all this?" And they took offense at him.

It's not the first time Jesus experienced some opposition. And it won't be the last time - not by a long shot. In the end, some of his opponents will succeed in having him executed.

That's always been something of a puzzle. Why was it that someone as likeable and kind and good as Jesus was sometimes disliked by others?

Well, the first thing to say is that most people liked him. He spent most of his ministry up north in Galilee speaking to crowds on the hillsides or along the shore, going from village to village, preaching, and teaching. What he said made sense to them. He talked their language - not like some of their religious leaders. He cured the sick. And he cared about the poor.

Some disliked him, of course. The religious authorities disliked him because he criticized them and was upsetting things. Demons disliked him for obvious reasons.

Another group that had trouble with him was his own extended family and his own townspeople. All four Gospels report this, and we just heard it in Mark's Gospel.

As a matter of fact, earlier in Mark's Gospel there is a passage that seldom gets much attention. One day, when the crowds were flocking to Jesus to hear him speak and to receive his healing touch, he went with his disciples to the home where he was staying in Capernaum. This how Mark describes what happened next:

Again the crowd gathered, making it impossible for them to even eat. When his relatives heard of this they set out to seize him, for they said, "He is out of his mind."

It took them a while to get there, and Mark fills it in with a dispute Jesus had with the Scribes. Then these "relatives" arrive, and we find out more specifically who they are:

His mother and his brothers arrived. Standing outside they sent word to him and called him. A crowd seated around him told him, "Your mother and your brothers and your sisters are outside asking for you. But he said to them in reply, "Who are my mother and my brothers?" And looking around at those seated in the circle he said, "Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother." (Mk 3:31-35)

Why was it that those close to Jesus, at least in the beginning of his ministry, had difficulty with him? The problem was that they had watched him grow up. He led a normal life. He seemed like "one of them." Who was he to begin saying and doing these things they had heard about? That was clearly the problem with his own townspeople in today's Gospel passage. Listen again to what they said:

Where did this man get all this? What kind of wisdom has been given him? What mighty deeds are wrought by his hands! Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?

The same thing can happen to us. The hardest thing about living out the call of God in our own life isn't always opposition from the "enemies of the faith." Sometimes it's being misunderstood by those close to us - the people we rub elbows with, our friends, our relatives. They know us. They know we're one of them. They know our faults. We're hesitant to become more involved in our Church, or in issues of justice and peace because we can hear them say, if only to themselves, "Who are you to be saying and doing such things?"

Dorothy Day was a laywoman who lived in New York and dedicated her life to the poor, and to the cause of justice and peace. Cardinal John O'Connor, not long before his death, asked Rome to begin the process of considering whether she should become a canonized saint, and perhaps one day she will be canonized.

That's interesting because during her lifetime, Dorothy Day resisted those who would refer to her as a "saint". She said that when they call you a saint, people no longer have to take you seriously. They put you in a different category and excuse themselves from having to even think about doing the same things you do. After all, you're a "saint" and they're not. They're just regular people. Dorothy Day once quipped, "Don't trivialize me by trying to make me a saint."

That's the problem. We think that regular folks aren't holy. Regular folks don't get involved in working for the poor. Regular folks don't pray much. Regular folks just more or less go to church and lead a "normal" life.

Trouble is, a "normal" life for a disciple of the Lord isn't always what others might consider normal. At baptism we symbolically die to one way of living and rise to a new and different way of life. That's what Christianity was called before it was ever called "Christianity." It was called "The Way." Christianity is a way of life.

The truth is, we're sometimes reluctant to follow this "way of life" not because of godless people who might persecute us. The truth is, we're sometimes uneasy about living out our faith because we might get the same reaction Jesus got from his own townspeople: Where did this man get all this? Why... he's just one of us. 

Originally given on July 9, 2000