Home is Where the Start Is - Matthew 4:12-23
Today our Gospel passage has a lot of moving parts. There are a lot of people, a lot of places, and a lot of, well, movement. Allow me to summarize. In Matthew’s Gospel, the narrative jumps from Jesus as an infant straight to the ministry of John of Baptist. The last time we saw Jesus he was still a small child fleeing to Egypt with his family to escape the wrath of Herod. The next thing we know he’s in his thirties and he’s getting baptized in the river Jordan. The baptism takes place in Judea, at the southern end of the river, near where it empties into the Dead Sea. After he is baptized, Jesus immediately goes out into the wilderness to be tempted.
After 40 days, he returns to Judean society and learns that while he was gone, John was arrested. This is where we meet Jesus today. In response to the news, Jesus leaves Judea and heads back north to Galilee, where he is from. We’re told he takes the route through the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, and finally ends up in the seaside town of Capernaum.
Stories like this one that are rich with geographical references can be hard to follow, but I love them. They make me wish I had a time machine. I want to know what those places were like when Jesus traveled through them, and I really want to know how early Gospel readers felt when they read about them. Did a first century Palestinian get to this part of the Gospel and think, “oh yeah, I know that route,” or, “he went through Zebulun? My grandmother lives there!” Or, “I wonder if I was in Naphtali at the time Jesus passed through?”
In seminary, I told one of my professors that this is how I think about geographical references in scripture. She told me she was not surprised to hear this, because I’m from the American South. She may have a point. We do have a very particular relationship with geography down here. A few examples from my own life come to mind. I once had a friend come to visit from New England. She did not understand why I needed to show her so many houses on the way to grab coffee. This is how I learned that not everyone drives around, looking at and reminiscing about local homes.
Another peculiar geographical anecdote is my family’s annual beach trip to the Florida panhandle. We’ve gone every summer for almost 30 years now. Over those years, the landscape has changed along the drive. Buildings have come and gone, new roads have been built and old ones repaved. It’s a drive I know well and I certainly don't need a map to follow it. But somehow, every year, my dad and Uncle Dave come up with a new plan to shave thirty minutes off our trip. There cannot possibly be that many backroads or bypasses or overlooked bridges, but my dad and Dave are going to find them all. I suspect they would have driven Jesus bananas on his journey to Galilee with all their “tips.”
One more example, as many of you know, my family on both sides hails from Pine Bluff, Arkansas. I cannot seem to go anywhere in the whole country without running into someone else from Pine Bluff. I used to think this was just a Pine Bluff quirk, but I think it happens to all Arkansans. I’ve learned that in the South, we’re more likely to discover geography in common because we’re just more likely to bring it up in conversation. We love knowing our land and the land of our ancestors, and this is something we have in common with the people in our scriptures and the people who first read them.
The author of Matthew’s Gospel understood this connection the people had with the land and he used it to make a brilliant theological point. He wanted his readers to understand that Jesus was one of them, that they had the same people and were from the same place. He wanted them to see themselves in the narrative, to know that the story of Jesus was also a story about them. As Southerners, we are particularly gifted at placing ourselves in the geography of a narrative, so I think that we are poised to receive this message from the Gospel of Matthew: that the story of Jesus is also a story about us.
Perhaps my favorite thing about today’s Gospel passage is that when Jesus returns from the wilderness, he knows that the time has come to begin his public ministry in earnest, so he grabs his companions and says, “let’s go home.” I happen to know a thing or two about going back to your hometown to begin a new ministry, because that’s what I did when I came to Christ Church. I can confirm that it can be a challenging career move, and I’m grateful for this part of Matthew’s story because it reminds me that Jesus knows exactly how I feel.
But coming home can also be a vital part of our Christian journey. Home doesn’t have to be the place you were born. It is, instead, the place you put down roots. As it was for Jesus, home is the starting place, the foundation for your ministry. The place where you know the geography. The place where you feel in touch with your ancestors, spiritual or biological.
For many in this room, Christ Church is home, and today we will celebrate Christ Church as our home with our annual meeting. We will look back at our roots, look forward toward our journey ahead, and share a family meal. We will explore the ways in which the story of Jesus is also the story of Christ Church. We will recenter ourselves on our foundation, from which all our ministries, both corporate and individual, flow.
In this new calendar year and in this season of Epiphany and revelation, I invite you all to consider your home, whatever it make look like, and how it supports you and helps you to live out your baptismal call. How does your home help you to see yourself in the Biblical narrative of salvation. For what ministry has your church home has raised you up?
And when you hear God calling you to something difficult or something new, I hope that you will begin that journey by coming back here, to this familiar geography, to share with us in prayer and worship and fellowship. Because the story of Christ Church is also your story, and when we share in one another’s ministry, God will surely be revealed. Amen.