And he said, “Amen, I say to you, no prophet is accepted in his own native place.”
(Luke 4:24)
How fickle are your people, Lord! We, who just a few moments ago, “spoke highly” of you, “amazed at your gracious words,” now resent that you are the “son of Joseph,” an ordinary carpenter. Your hearers become so angry that they try to throw you off a cliff.
“Familiarity breeds contempt,” we say. Why are we so reluctant to admit goodness, even greatness, in those we encounter daily? Are we jealous? Aware of our own shortcomings, we refuse to believe that our neighbors can be any better.
We, too, are so quick to protest about what we touted yesterday. Please help me, Lord, to proclaim goodness no matter where I find it.