HOMECOMING

[Instead of a  homily, I rewrote today’s gospel in story form - changing it a bit. And it’s a change of pace. This is called, “Homecoming.”]

“Why not?”

“It’s been a while since I was back home.”

“It will be good to see how mom is doing.”

So Jesus headed home - for some home cooking - to see how the carpenter shop was doing - to sit and talk -  without the pressure of the crowds.

“It will be good to get away from Peter and Andrew - and James and John. It will be good for them to get a break from me. Being a prophet can be a draining - full time - experience. I’m sure their families - especially Old Zebedee - in Capernaum - will be happy to know his boys are alive and well. They did leave rather suddenly - that day - when I simply said, ‘Come follow me!’  and they dropped their nets and did just that: follow me.”

Jesus walked up the streets of Nazareth. It was high noon - hot and humid - and people were indoors - or in the shadows. Some people stopped talking or doing what they were doing - when they spotted him - sort of dumb struck. You could read on their faces, “He’s back!” A few waved a silent sort of,  “Hi.”

Mary was shocked to see him open the front door - of their two room home.

“Jesus!”

The hug and the hold was long and tight.

“Welcome home!”

Jesus said, “Mom, I missed you. I miss you.”

Tears of joy flowed freely - down  both their faces.

Mary said, “Sit down.  Relax.  I’ll get you something to eat.”

Then she said,  “Wine or water?”

He got the joke - and the smile on her face - and the wink in her eye.

He said, “That was a good wedding, wasn’t it?

She said, “The couple over there in Cana still talk about you.”

She placed before him a chalice of red wine - and another one for herself - opposite him - at the wooden table - a good solid wooden  table. Joseph always made the best.

Jesus knocked on the wood and said, looking into her eyes:  “I miss him too.”

At that comment, she came over and gave him one of those complicated sit down and standing up hug and a kiss on top of his head.

She came back with some delicious bread - broke it - handed him some.

She sat down.  Then with cup in hand - they clinked chalices - ate bread -and shared what’s happening.

Words became flesh - as she told him about their relatives and neighbors.

Even though - she assumed - by now - everybody in town knew he was back,  nobody bothered them.  Nobody was at the door.

He told her, “This feels good. It’s good to be home.”

He told her where he had been, “Capernaum, the Lake, up north and down south.”

“People are struggling,” he said. “People are struggling - but life is good.”

She told him how James and Joses, Judas and Simon, and all his male and female relatives were doing.

She told him, “The carpenter shop is still going strong.  Your cousin is doing a good job. The town misses you. They especially miss Joseph.”

“Me too,” said Jesus.

“Me too, said Mary.

Silence.

There were some nice moments of silence - the kind that are essential - to one to one conversations - the salt and pepper of good table talk - the bread and wine - of a  good homecoming.

Mary then told him that folks in town thought he went off the deep end - leaving us to become a prophet and a teacher, a rabbi and a story teller, a healer and a challenger.

Jesus said, “Listen, I laugh at that myself. A prophet at first - especially if he is a stranger - gets listened to everywhere  - except back home - with his own family and kin. Family see right through you.  They never would expect anything good could come from a tiny town like this.  I try to tell folks that it all comes from within - not from out there.

Silence.

“Then - out there - it’s only when they really listen - to what I’m trying to say - that they get riled up and want me to leave or  to kill me - because folks often don’t like what they know is within.”

Mary said, “When they ask me where did you get all your wisdom - that you never went to school here - I say, “Hey, he didn’t leave here till he was 30. He learned everything - as far as I could figure out - before he left here. He learned  from watching - watching - watching - the birds of the sky and the flowers of the field.”

“I tell them that you were always a great listener - listening to people tell about lost sons and daughters - who slipped away to far countries.”

“I tell them you noticed the Pharisees and those who had to have front seats in the synagogue and at celebrations.”

“I tell them you always stopped to check the wheat and the grapes of the vines.”

“You knew good fruit and bad fruit.”

“I tell them when you came to forks in the roads, you always took the narrow path. That was you.”

“Thank you, mom. Thank you.”

He stayed there for a few days - saw a few of the neighbors - visited and prayed over and cured a few sick people by laying his hands on them,  but it seemed that his original comment was right on the money: “A prophet is not accepted in his own town - his own native place.”

As he left home - after some good home cooking - some warm home love - from his mom - he could accept the loneliness of not being accepted - not being known for who he really was.

As he walked to catch up with his disciples at Capernaum, he said to himself, "I guess, you can’t work miracles in people who won’t sit down with themselves - who won't sit down with others in communion - who won’t sit down with bread  and wine - who won't  break open and pour out and really share the body and blood of their lives with each other.”