“ Brushstrokes of God”

Sheldon Henderson, guest preacher

First Christian Church 1/28/07

I often wonder what people would do, especially this congregation, if Jesus was standing right here, right now, right in front of us. Picture in your mind your vision of Jesus right here, right now, standing, breathing, talking, alive. In your mind what would he look like, how would he appear to you? Would Jesus resemble that traveler of Galilee? When he arrived here would he just walk in and sit down, or would he just appear? Could you believe it.? Our Lord and Saviour visiting us in our house of worship, right here , right now.

In today’s scripture reading Luke tells us of a time when Jesus did show up. Jesus came home to Nazareth after a long time on the road. All through Galilee he traveled teaching and preaching. The scripture tells us that Jesus taught and healed some people in Capernaum. Before the time in Capernaum Luke tells us that Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness. 40 days with no food, only the devil to keep him company, but that didn’t matter now, he was home.

At first the local residents welcomed him with open arms. The people of Nazareth had heard so much about his teachings and healings. They knew his long line of ancestors down to his father, the carpenter Joseph. In the beginning of Luke’s story the people of Nazareth were overjoyed. Ecstatic with feelings of pride that a local kid had gone so far in such a short time and now had come home. Jesus standing right there in front of the people of Nazareth.

On one Sabbath day Jesus went to the local synagogue. Nothing so strange about that. He did most of his teachings in places of worship. That day Jesus read from a scroll from Isaiah. The people gathered were astonished at how Jesus spoke. Jesus said..

“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 proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

I can clearly picture the faces of so many of the residents that day after hearing and seeing Jesus. Hearing him proclaim that he had the spirit given to him. Hearing that he was sent to release the captives and give sight to the blind. The crowd knowing that he had done such wonderful works before returning to Nazareth, were anxious to hear more. Jesus and his gracious words had the residents of Nazareth listening intently, thinking that they, expecting maybe that, no demanding, it was their turn at the goodness that Jesus carried from city to city. Their hometown hero has come back to spread some of that healing around, around to the people that should deserve it the most. Can you hear them shout “Jesus of Nazareth our glorious son has returned” Smiles of anticipation surrounded Jesus at that moment, a brief moment to be sure.

I have known Jane for many years. A professional woman, a dedicated mother and wife, a strong church leader, reserved yet assertive, grounded in a personal strength of faith that she carries well. Jane and I were together this past summer as a part of a church group. On one bright and sunny day I noticed a dramatic change in Jane. I could see it in her face that day. I could hear it in her voice. The closer our small group got to our destination the more like a little child she became. With her eyes opening ever wider, a new rose color in her cheeks, and her voice cracking with anticipation, she was somehow being transformed into a person much younger, shedding that weary traveler weight that had invaded us all. The calmness that I had grown accustomed to, in Jane, over the years was overtaken by excitement. Like a child on Christmas morning being told to wait, yet wanting to open, that treasure that was about to be given to them.

This time the treasure was art. Just not your average art, but paintings and sculptures, enormous displays of thousands of articles. Egyptian artifacts, furniture from England and even a complete living room designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. There was water colors, marble, granite, wood. Portraits of people, paintings of animals and nature. Simple lines to majestic frames all brought together to make up displays of artists from around the world. This was New York’s City’s Metropolitan Museum of Fine Art, yes Jane and I were approaching the Met.

The bus Jane and I were riding on stopped. Jane, now having completely reverted back to that younger child, was out front leading our group. Down the sidewalk and up the steps, up the steps to a perfect present for her wrapped between four walls. Ah Christmas in July.

Now myself being art challenged I didn’t know what to expect, but Jane did. With quickening speech patterns Jane rattled off several artists and their paintings that were on display in the Met. She was verbally giving me her own personal museum agenda for the afternoon, telling me what she wanted to see and which artists where her favorite. With her attention span for group instructions growing faint, her focus shifting away from where we were standing, and with a museum map in hand, off she went disappearing into the world of art. Vanishing into the crowd that had gathered at the Met that day. Time seemed to matter little for Jane.

Now I do know some of the major names, O’Keefe, Monet, Rembrandt, and I did recognize some of the paintings at the Met that I had only before seen in pictures and textbooks. But here I was standing right in front of a Claude Monet painting. In fact several of his works were there. Beautiful bright colors, flowers, everyday objects, all painted from his palette of not more than 8 individual colors.

The first thing I had been taught to do, right or wrong, when viewing art, is that you should start up close to a painting and then gradually move back. At first you should concentrate on the painting and then let your field of vision encompass the canvas in front. That day at the Met I did such a thing.

What fascinated me that day were the tiny bristle marks, the vibrant colors, and so many fine details that I could barely make each one out. I was also amazed at how the canvas under the paint never showed through and knowing that the artist, starting with that blank canvas, could see the finished product, even before one brush was picked up. Up close millions of individual marks, thousands of shades of colors. Ah but when I stood back all of those fine details snapped into focus, all coming together to make a masterpiece. I finally understood Jane’s excitement. Her understanding of what was in front of us that day went beyond what could have been taught, it had to be experienced. What magic and beauty we had the privilege of seeing. A look back into history and a glimpse of the future, but now the day was over.

The Met’s staff of hundreds slowly herded all of the visitors toward the exits. Graciously nudging and pointing the way out. The Met staff members retaking and protecting, what they thought, was their territory. Looking over my shoulder as I headed toward the exit, I know at least one of the paintings was watching me.

Now back to Luke’s story of Jesus in Nazareth. Smiles were turning to frowns. What was welcoming hands now turned to fists, fists of hate shaking at him. The hometown hero was in trouble. He had just informed those gathered there in that synagogue that he would not be doing any miracles.

Jesus had just stated that no prophet did great things or was accepted in his hometown. Angers flared. I can imagine what was said.” How dare this boy, a lowly carpenters son, born to a “Virgin” disrespect us, How dare he disrespect the people that live here. Jesus of Nazareth you say, no more.” and others saying; “ We are your family. We know your father and mother. Is this how you repay us? You have given sight to the blind for people elsewhere, why not us? Where is the good news?” Simple pride in a son coming home turning to rude arrogance and hateful misunderstanding of Jesus and his ministry.

The people from Nazareth took Jesus to the edge of the city, told him to leave. I am sure some wanted his death. People yelling, screaming, “How dare you come here and not reward us with your miracles. We are your people, your family.” Jesus left, some say never to return to Nazareth, but never the less to do more great work throughout the surrounding area.

So what was Jesus trying to say to those gathered there that day? What did those people believe about Jesus? Did they understand Jesus and his true mission. Did the residents of Nazareth see the entire ministry of Jesus or was their selfishness blinding them to the whole Jesus? So what was he trying to teach that day?

The people of Nazareth heard Jesus recite in the Synagogue “ He (as in God) has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” I think that Jesus wanted those gathered that day to truly “see” his ministry as more than miracles, Jesus wanted the people of Nazareth to be “released” from what was holding their faith back. Jesus wanted them to see not only miracles of flesh but miracles of the mind.

If Jesus was standing right here, right now, today, what would we ask him to do. Would we be arrogant enough to ask for help with our budget, to pick the hymns we sing, or even help shovel snow? Would we ask him to heal our colds, stop our weight gain, and alleviate those aching joints? What if we asked these things of Him and he refused? Would we still believe or would we shake our fists and raise our voices? Would we be so self centered that we would escort him out. The people of Nazareth did, what makes us any different?

Luke, and many of the other scriptures, tells us how Jesus had a special way of engaging people. I am sure if Jesus were here he would take the time and ask us a few questions. He would take those same questions and needs we had for him and turn them around on us. I am almost positive Jesus would ask questions about our budget. He might ask “how does your giving and budget line item reflect your congregations Basic Mission Finance giving?” We could honestly answer this one “ that as a church we give more, percentage wise, than most churches” . Not satisfied yet, Jesus I am sure would ask us “ when you sing the hymns on Sunday morning do you mean what you sing”, okay maybe we have a little room for improvement with that answer. But how would we answer the last question that Jesus would have for us. Remember that I think he would take our concerns and turn them around. I am positive that if Jesus was to help us shovel snow he would ask “do you want me to shovel the way in for you and your congregation, or do you want me to help you shovel a path to the door for the one time visitor and/or homeless child of God that is looking for a home?” New sight for our blindness, a release of our captives.

If Jesus was standing right here, right now, could we look at him, listen to him and have our sight renewed to see the whole picture? Could we be released from what traps us personally and also as a congregation from seeing the true master artist that he is? Could we see Jesus and his brilliant brush strokes? Brushstrokes of God in individuals not only here but throughout the world. Millions of brushstrokes of God’s spirit coming together through the grace of Jesus, to do God’s ministry. Millions of brushstrokes of God coming together, working through the grace of Jesus, to do God’s ministry. When viewing Jesus, right here, right now, in front of us, maybe we should start up close with open minds and wide eyes. Release of our captives and new sight for our blindness. Then slowly move back and see how the ministry of Jesus snaps into focus. Brushstrokes of God in a spirit filled life doing God’s work with Jesus at our side.

Amen