January 30, 2022 + Fourth Sunday after Epiphany + 1 Corinthians 13; Luke 4:21-30 + Pastor Craig Mueller
Some of you may remember the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour. It was on television many—did I say many—years ago. I was a kid— but I recall the zany, teasing, self-deprecating humor between the brothers. Tommy and Dick would always end up arguing. Tommy was always bit slow. So Dick came off as a little arrogant and self-righteous. Whenever they sparred, Tommy would divert to his predictable line, “Mom, always liked you best.” It wasn’t the greatest comeback of all time. But it always got the audience going.
Do parents really have favorites? Sometimes. Probably unconsciously. I don’t know what my brother would say. We all have favorites of some kind. The hometown team. Around here that can devolve into a Cubs or Sox rivarly. Some people become “teacher’s pets.” Bosses may play favorites with employees—surely not around here, though? And there are a lot of people that believe we are a favored nation—more advanced, more democratic, more blessed by God than any nation on earth.
These days there are accusations of favoritism all the time. Discrimination. Prejudice. Bias. Whether because of race or gender or orientation or religion. Does capitalism play favorites toward the “have’s” rather than the “have nots”? Does the Supreme Court play favorites toward interest groups?
It’s like we’re wired to play favorites. To stick to our own kind. To watch out for ourselves. Even it means offending or harming someone else.
It was hard to miss. The all-time favorite wedding passage: First Corinthians 13! How many little mini wedding homilies have you heard on this text, extolling love between two married people?
The problem is: in its original context this passage wasn’t about marriage at all. Sure, we can apply Paul’s principles about self-giving love to marriage, family, and all kinds of relationships. But what a treat to have it on a cold, winter day rather than a wedding party perspiring on a hot, humid day in an un-air-conditioned church (been there, done that) . . . trying to pay attention to my homily while what is really on their minds is . . . drinking and dancing at the reception!
The Corinthians are playing favorites. They’re dividing into factions, identifying themselves with their preferred leader. They’re taking each other to court. Some are sleeping around. They’re motivated by power. They’re trying to outdo one another in being super-spiritual. And they are bickering over everything—calling each other out on the issues of the day: from food sacrificed to idols to circumcision to celibacy to head coverings. And the meal around bread and wine has devolved into drunkenness and gluttony. And by playing favorites, it was the poor who are going hungry!
Oh my! How often do we call each other out with impassioned hatred on the issues of our day: abortion, critical race theory, climate change, and of all things, masks.
What if we heard Paul’s words about love with all of this in mind! Love doesn’t insist on its own way. It bears all things. It is always there for the sake of the other, especially the vulnerable other. All our religiosity means nothing if it isn’t grounded in the kind of love that is more about the other, and less about ourselves.
Of course, lots of religious people think that God plays favorites. And you’re on the winning side if you’re Christian. Somehow you are better than those who make poor choices or make a mess of their lives.
When Jesus goes back to his hometown, we expect him to be the darling of Nazareth. Their favorite son, the one everybody’s been talking about, now back. But then the hometown folk get offended. Jesus isn’t playing to his audience. He isn’t trying to get “likes” or “shout outs.” Or spontaneous “amens” from the congregation. Jesus claims that God . . . doesn’t play favorites. Ever. Oh dear. This is not going to end well.
Jesus says that he stands with other prophets before him. And prophets are not accepted in their hometown. Prophets pay the price of speaking the truth. As a boy, Jeremiah wanted to avoid such a calling. He would later call the people out for their unfaithfulness during a time of social and political unrest.
Now remember. The Nazareth folk were good people. They thought they knew their hometown boy, Joseph’s son! But now he is talking like he has a chip on his shoulder. God doesn’t play favorites? You mean we’re not better than Gentiles? [or insert appropriate word today.] And the people. Are. Peeved.
No surprise that folks today get upset with talk about immigrants and migrants. Their buttons get pushed by talk of Black Lives Matter. Sure, all lives matter. Sure, God loves all people. But the point is that for generations we have treated some people as if they didn’t matter. And it’s time to make reparations for that.
So you can understand the people’s rage. Red-faced, they lose control. They turn into a mob and they drag Jesus to a hill to hurl him off the cliff!
A cliff hanger, indeed. But look what happens. Jesus walks right through the crowd.
Who is this one who comes to us as one unknown? Jesus walks right through the riotous rage and anger. And Jesus passes through our divisions. Jesus passes through our favoritism. Jesus passes through our arrogance and self-righteousness. Jesus passes through our narrow mindedness.
Jesus walks on to his calling. He walks on to his mission. He walks on to embody a love that does not insist on its own way. Does not rejoice in wrongdoing. But rejoices in the truth.
Jesus passes on through to those on the margins: lives that matter to God. And because he has such divine audacity, he will be dragged to another hill where he will die on a cross.
For many, Holy Trinity’s welcoming statement is their favorite thing about this church. We welcome one another because God does not play favorites. Yet our love is imperfect.. We still pretty much stick to our own kind and fear anything that upsets our comfortable lives.
Yet because God’s love never ends. Because divine love is patient and kind. Because the love of Christ is nearest to the brokenhearted. We dare to follow him: “the one who comes in love as once he came, by flesh and blood and birth . . . for every child of earth,” as we will sing in a moment. For every child of earth.
As we gather this day to hear the word and share the meal that breaks down barriers. As we reflect on Holy Trinity’s mission at the annual meeting, may divine love infuse us. That with Jesus, walk through favoritism. That we may walk with passion and purpose to all to whom God is calling us.