There was still a slick of morning moisture covering the path into the town as Eli and Samuel walked by Nathan's orchard, crossed the small stream, and finished the prescribed sabbath day's journey to the synagogue: in length, 2,000 cubits. By our modern standard of travel it was not far. It was about 1,000 yards. They walked at hurried pace. Their prayer shawls were pulled tightly around them, which helped protect them from the morning chill. Sabbath. The day of rest. In Nazareth the gathering was a comfortable event. Everyone knew everyone, and most knew what the others would do or say, such as the fact that Eli and Samuel were always the last to take their seats. The complaints, the prayers, the remembered verses of the holy writings, it all unfolded each seventh day as if written in some careful text. Eli and Samuel lived the farthest from the synagogue and so it was expected that they would be the last to arrive. They always were. The path they took was so familiar that even Samuel could have walked it alone. And Samuel was blind.

This day as the familiar men of Nazareth sat in their accustomed places, and as the anticipated words were said, and as the routine of sabbath moved along its appointed course, it all was broken by the words of a young workman. The young carpenter, now turned traveling preacher, spoke up in the midst of the sabbath synagogue routine. He spoke up, as he never had done before, with quotations from ancient prophets seldom heard within that place. He left the very vivid impression that he was not just talking ancient words. He spoke with eloquence and with directness. Even blind Samuel cocked his head in a way that showed his attention! And there was a frown upon his brow! With the words spoken by the carpenter, the comfortable routines of sabbath and the ordinary expectations of the town folk had been broken! Samuel leaned toward Eli and with a voice heard by more than Eli, said, "Who is this person to speak so? What right does he have to voice such words here in our synagogue?" Eli whispered back some of the things he had heard about Jesus. Others joined in the recounting. But their reports were couched in modern tabloid words, not in holy words nor in words spoken like the honored scribes.

They just did not like the ease of their sabbath broken. They liked the routines which brought comfort in ways they could not articulate. Something was different here. Something new! And frankly, they did not like it. This new preacher in their midst was just the carpenter, the son of Mary. His brothers and sisters were known throughout Nazareth. Nice people - all of them. But he should not speak so forthrightly! It was not seemly on this nice sabbath day to break from the comfortable traditions. And so that congregation in Nazareth took offense at Jesus.

The little imagined story of Eli and Samuel is to bring us to the scripture, a story to describe some of the humanness of that day when Jesus entered the hometown synagogue and scored a zero. Mark's gospel, as well as Matthew's, does not tell what Jesus said when he spoke in his hometown synagogue. Luke's gospel does. Luke tells that he read these words from the sacred scroll of the prophet Isaiah:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor! - Isaiah 61:1

Mark does tell that this visit comes midway in Jesus' ministry. Jesus was heralded as a great teacher and healer throughout the region, except in his hometown. In Mark, the verses immediately preceding today's scripture tell of the wonderment in restoring life to Jairus' young daughter. And there were other healings, and great words of teaching. Now Jesus is back home in Nazareth. It is the sabbath. Jesus is in the synagogue participating as a man of the faith. But "they took offense at him." Those are Mark's words!

The people attending synagogue that day were so caught up in looking backward that they could not look into the future. Jesus was still only the child of former days, and the people were so stilted in the rote of the service, that they just could not understand anything new. And so "they took offense at him."

Jesus "marveled at their unbelief." Those, too, are Mark's words. This rejection in his hometown pushed aside any possibility of new understanding of Jesus, and of the good news he spoke.

With this rejection in Nazareth, Jesus now turns to a new pattern of mission. He sends out the disciples two by two. They are to go where they will be accepted! They are to speak the good news and do the good deeds that Jesus himself set out to do. The words they all were to speak were words about repentance, which means, "turn about, change the direction of your life!" The deeds were the charity of healing, of making whole, lives that were broken or limited. These verses mark Jesus' first rejection, and his first organized mission endeavor fueled by that rejection. It all happened because, in his hometown, the folks were short-sighted, and were so tied to the familiar, the ordinary.

Thus far, we have talked of ancient happenings. Let us bring Eli and Samuel, and others of that congregation, into our day! For me these verses speak both a warning and a wonderment.

The warning is that we can let routines hide God from our sight. The comfort of routines can hinder the work of God. I recently heard a beautiful new hymn from Korean translation. Americans are not familiar with the tune, nor with the words. It breaks the comfortable tradition of familiar hymns. How might you react to that hymn? Would its newness become so overwhelming that the words were unheard? Would its tricky tune quickly end your attempts at singing? Or, would the very fact of its newness focus your attention upon it! Could God use the new tune and the new verse to speak to you?

Come back quickly to the Lord, just come back to the Lord. Our Lord waits every day with his doors kept open wide. He is anxiously waiting for you every day and every night.

It was written during the Second World War by a Korean Christian, Young Taik Chun. It was translated into English by his granddaughter. I suspect that the Nazareth synagogue congregation would not have liked that intrusion into the so-familiar of the worship time.

We do back away from change. We even take offense at it, sometimes. There is a story floating around about a pastor who gave his annual give-up-something-for-Lent sermon. He pastored a small church in the northern part of our country. Early March was a chilly time, if not down right cold! He ended his sermon saying, "As an example of penitence to the rest of the community, this congregation will worship in an unheated church for the whole of Lent!" As the parishioners made their way out into the damp, late winter chill, the pastor asked one of the members, "Ah, Mrs. James, and what have you decided to give up for Lent?" She replied, "Church!" Yes, we can let the comfort of ordinary routines hide God's working in our midst. The warning is that we can miss something that may be for us life-saving!

The wonderment is that God does use the ordinary and routine to fulfill divine purposes. Consider your own life. Look at all the routines that fill the days and weeks. The getting up for work each day. The responsibilities of carting the kids around. The shopping and dish doing and grass cutting and letter writing. God works within the everyday activities to bless us, and to fulfill divine purposes.

Each February some newspaper or magazine reproduces an old cartoon drawing of two farmers talking over a split-rail fence. Off in the distance is a small log cabin, with chimney smoke trailing intO the sky. There is a date written at the top of the drawing: 1809. One farmer says, "What's new out your way?" The reply, "Aw, nothing much, except that Tom and Nancy Lincoln had a little baby last week." We need the reminder: God uses the ordinary for his purposes.

The rejection of Jesus in Nazareth initiated the first missionary thrust. What had been one voice now was 12 plus one. What had been one healing touch now was 12 plus one. Further, we often think that God's work must be through such grand events as the sun standing still, or the Red Sea being pushed aside. That may be, but much more God works in the ordinary, the routine, the undramatic.

Red Skelton told this story from the stage of the Palladium in London. He said there was a terrible flood in Louisiana. The water rose so quickly that a man had no time to escape and climbed to the roof of his house. As he perched on the house top and as the waters reached his ankles, a man in a rowboat came by. "Can I help you?" he shouted from the boat. "No," said the man, "the Lord will take care of me." Soon the water was at his waist. A second boat came by. Again the offer of help. Again the reply, "No, the Lord will take care of me." Not long after that, the water had risen to his neck. A helicopter whirled into view. The stranded man shouted, "Go on. God will take care of me." Well, he drowned and went to heaven. Once through the pearly gates he asked the Lord, "I've been faithful. What happened? Why didn't you save me?" The Lord replied, "Well, I really don't know what happened. I sent two rowboats and a helicopter!" That is a funny story, but it translates into some very unfunny realities about God's saving work through the ordinary.

At a meeting of a children's home board, mention was made of how the home was helping a little, unnamed child cope with the severe sexual abuse he had been subjected to by his parents. How very, very sad are the reports of child abuse by parents. Some parents cover their abuse, thinking of it in religious terms! You and I understand that the routine, ordinary, humdrum activity of being a parent should be the arena in which God is at work for the good nurturing of children! Your role as a parent, a grandparent, is doing the work of God! The nurture you provide is part of the working of God. That divine nurturing consists of the simple, ordinary human qualities of love and encouragement and steadfastness and interest. Almost anyone can provide it, sensing that God is at work in the ordinary and the routine. From those ordinary human characteristics, through that children's home, God is mending that little eight-year-old child. Ten billion dollars could not replace the ordinary tasks of human caring and love. I wonder how many other children are abused because of parents who do not provide the ordinary, simple gifts of love, attention, encouragement and steadfastness.

The wonderment is that God can use us in the midst of the routines of every day. God can mend and heal and make whole lives right in the midst of ordinary circumstances. And thus we are part of that extension begun by Jesus when he sent out his disciples two by two. You and I are part of that company that speaks of God's love for us and for all his children.

The warning: We can miss God at work in our midst when we cling so unthinkingly to old and hard routines. The wonderment: God does continue to work his way in our midst through those ordinary routines. Where is the Lord God speaking to you through the routines of your living, through the ordinary? Samuel and Eli, and that synagogue in Nazareth, did not understand. Let us not walk in their shoes! Instead, "Come, let us walk in the way of the Lord." Amen!