Pentecost 7 – 2024
Mark 6:1-13
Marian Free
In the name of God who always surprises us and who always breaks through our narrow limitations. Amen.
There was a time, not so long ago, when parents of children with Down’s Syndrome were advised to put them in an institution and forget about them. Indeed, such was the case as recently as 1997 when Queenslander Rosanne Stuart gave birth to her daughter Madeline. According to an article in Vogue magazine, “before she could even see her, the baby was whisked away to another room. The doctor told her to leave the baby at the hospital and start over; pointing out the child would never amount to anything and would only mature to the mental age of a seven year old”.[1] Thankfully Rosanne ignored the doctor’s advice, and like many parents of her generation, refused to be bound by societal (and sometimes medical) expectations. She brought up her daughter, Madeline, to believe that she was beautiful and could do anything. Madeline is now an international model (perhaps the first person with Down Syndrome to take to the catwalk). She has participated in New York fashion week and taken to the runway in such places as Paris, London, Runway Dubai and Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week China.
Madeline is just one example of the ways in which the world in general is refusing to be bound by stereotypes, and in which parents are refusing to limit children who do not fit the norm. The examples are too numerous to mention, but one other Australian who has refused to be boxed and limited by labels is Michael Theo. Michael is the neurodivergent star of the ABC series Austin. He has participated in the TV programme Love on the Spectrum, is an animal rights advocate, podcaster and much more.
For too long we have classified people according to their looks, their athletic ability, their shape and size, and by whether their body or their mind fits the so-called norm. Society as a whole has refused to recognise that those who do not fit the stereotype might in fact have talents just waiting to be identified and nurtured. Thankfully, in recent decades, we have begun to value people for who they are, rather than try to force them to fit a particular mould. Today we have the Para-Olympics to showcase the talents of those born without limbs, those permanently altered by injury and anyone else who would be disadvantaged by competing against athletes whose bodies fit the norm. We are less and less likely to decide who can represent us – in film, in sport, and in any other endeavour – according to how much like ourselves they are.
Today’s gospel has to do with expectations, about boxing people in so that they fit our image of them. Having wandered around Galilee teaching and healing, Jesus has returned to his home town. On the Sabbath, he teaches in their synagogue. Those who hear him are initially astounded, but immediately they begin to question themselves: “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him?” they ask with a certain amount of scepticism. This is Jesus, they know who he is – one of them. It seems that they cannot allow Jesus to be anything other than the person whom they believe him to be. They have known Jesus for most, if not all, of his life, and it appears that they simply cannot let go of the image of the Jesus whom they knew before this transformation. He is the child of questionable birth – the child of Mary (not Joseph). He is the young boy who played with their children, the brother of young men whom they know – James and Joses and Judas and Simon. His sisters still live among them – ordinary women living ordinary lives. He is a carpenter, not a prophet or miracle worker.
The people of Nazareth have boxed Jesus in. They can’t imagine that he can really be anyone other than the Jesus they have always known. Their limited imaginations cannot allow for him to have changed so radically – to have become one who is well-versed in scripture and who has power to heal. None of this was evident when he lived among them, or, if it was, they were blind to his potential. Their lack of belief makes it impossible for Jesus to do much for them. They have put up imperviable barriers between themselves and him, that even divinity cannot cross.
The response of the Nazoreans to Jesus is an example of our own response to God. How often do we limit God, Jesus, or the Spirit as a consequence of our expectations being either too grand, or too narrow? How often is God the Trinity prevented from acting in our lives because we are disappointed that the Triune God does not live up to our expectations or because our expectations are simply too low? We, like Jesus’ neighbours have formed an image of God – who God is and what God can do. We expect extraordinary miracles and are disappointed when God acts differently. Alternatively, we expect very little and so give God little opportunity to do anything for us. We hope for grand signs and fail to see the presence of God all around us. We try to define God when God is simply unable to be defined. We box God in, try to make God conform to our idea of God and in so doing miss God’s mystery and grandeur.
The very nature of God should continually surprise, astound and astonish us. Our relationship with God should be not one of familiarity but one of expectation and uncertainty. God may be present in the ordinary as well as the extraordinary. God may reveal Godself in mighty acts or quiet whispers. God may heal broken bodies, but more often will mend broken souls. God will never, ever be what we perceive God to be, for then God would not be God.
Our task is to suspend our need to understand, to categorise, and to define, and to retain a joyful openness to God’s presence such that when God catches us by surprise, instead of saying: “That can’t be God,” we will be able to say wholeheartedly: “Ah, yes, there God is.”
[1] https://www.vogue.com.au/fashion/news/meet-australian-madeline-stuart-the-worlds-first-professional-model-with-down-syndrome/news-story/c90e9224d9586e7840362a9ea0a4bf8a


