Stay in Your Lane

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost | July 4, 2021

Ezekiel 2:1-5

Mark 6:1-13

Stay in your lane. That’s what we say when we feel someone is expressing a little too much opinion in an area they know little about. I know I’ve said it. I’m sure others have, too. Stay in your lane. Its popularity as a statement came about, as I understand it, when the NRA criticized emergency room doctors for commenting on America’s gun and violence crisis. “Stay in your lane,” they said, suggesting that the doctors focus on the medical field in which they are trained and leave the gun conversation to people who know about guns. Without hesitation, the doctors shared the stories of people being brought through their doors with gunshot wounds and tweeted, “This Is Our Lane.”

Stay in your lane. It’s what the people of Nazareth seem to be telling Jesus when he tries to preach to the people he grew up with. These are the people who, presumably, knew him best. Some of them changed his diapers. Others may have had him over for sleepovers. The equivalent of high school friends and bullies and girlfriends all weighing in on his presence as a rabbi in their synagogue. And they have something to say about the situation.

Since when did he become so much better than the rest of us? Has he forgotten who he is? Has he forgotten where he comes from? It’s almost like they, too, believed the adage that nothing good can come of Nazareth. Jesus got too big for his britches. They say, “Look at the deeds of power he does with his hands!” And then go on to mention that he was a carpenter. Look at how he’s using his hands. But they were made to build. They were made to saw and hammer.

They go on to point out his family. Now, I automatically thought they were referring to the fact that he was presumed illegitimate and that’s why they call him ‘son of Mary’ instead of Joseph. But several commentaries point out that since Mark’s gospel doesn’t mention his birth narrative, that interpretation might actually be reaching a bit. Instead, the people are identifying those for whom he is responsible. Assuming Joseph is dead at this point, they first identify Jesus’ profession. He’s a carpenter. That’s what he’s supposed to be doing. Without a husband, Mary needs her sons to be providing for her. Jesus’ brothers need the eldest to teach them the trade. His sisters need him to act on behalf of the family in determining their dowry and helping match them to an appropriate man.

The point they’re making is that he has shirked his responsibilities. He’s left his family without a head. He’s abandoned those who love him and rely on him. Not unlike the ways in which he convinces several of the disciples to abandon their own families and trades to follow him. He’s creating familial chaos and leaving mothers and wives and sisters in a vulnerable position. The people from his home couldn’t care less about his message. They’re offended by his lifestyle. He’s irresponsible at best, and scandalous at worst.

I remember preaching in my hometown. Once. No more. I couldn’t be a preacher there. The most I would get from the people from home would be comments on how I’ve grown. I’d never be able to break through my history with any word of healing, justice, prophecy, or gospel because I will never be anyone to them other than little Tobi Tawn, the girl with curly pigtails playing her little violin in church. I can imagine any responses to any level of God’s Word coming from my mouth: “That’s nice, honey. But stay in your lane.”

So, I get Jesus’ challenge. I get the barriers he faced trying to get anyone from Nazareth to listen. ‘Stop talking about God and the reign of heaven and good news and Messiah. We know who you are. Just stay in your lane and get back to work.’

So instead, it says, he could do no deeds of power except for a few healings. I imagine those were people who hadn’t grown up with him. And though it says that he was amazed at their unbelief, I don’t think it was an unbelief in God. Nothing like—‘your faith has made you well,’ kind of thing. We focus too much on that kind of transaction—if you believe, you’ll be healed. No, I think they just didn’t believe that Jesus, the boy they knew, had anything to offer. So, they didn’t go to him. They didn’t bring their sick to him. They didn’t ask him for anything. And therefore, he did nothing.

Stay in your lane. So, he went outside the town and sent the disciples around to surrounding areas to preach, teach, and heal. They would be received differently—maybe not better, but differently. No one would be able to pigeon-hole them for who they were supposed to be. They were simply to go and tell people to turn to God. Now, at this point they couldn’t preach the good news of the son of God because they didn’t know it yet. Instead, they were told to preach repentance and heal those suffering. They weren’t to take any forms of comfort with them—nothing to fall back on if things went sideways. They needed to trust that God would provide for them as they went.

And if, for whatever reason, the people weren’t ready to listen, they would shake the dust from their feet. Again, I’ve always seen this as something they would do to shame the people who denied them. But the Greek suggests that instead of ‘as a testimony against them’ it might better read ‘as a witness to them.’ The disciples were to shed the dirt from their feet to prove to the people that this wasn’t a bait-and-switch. They would not take anything (not even the dirt on the shoes) without it being freely given. They weren’t there to get something for themselves. Their job was only to tell the people about God and the new things God was up to.

But as we’ll see, how that looks as Jesus’ ministry continues starts to become much more complicated. So much so that it will not only challenge the people’s assumptions and expectations of the Messiah but actually get him killed. Because his preaching—all of his preaching—is more than some spiritual mumbo jumbo about getting to heaven. It is incredibly worldly. It is about justice. It is about priorities. It is about community. And it is about challenging the power systems of his day…and ours.

I’ve recently heard from members that I’m getting too worldly in my preaching—that all I do is talk about current events and social issues. Which is true. That has certainly progressed in the past few years, I’ll admit. They suggest that I should stick with preaching about the Bible and leave the social issues to others. Stay in your lane.

So, let me read a bit from my letter of call, issued to me in August of 2009 by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America:

 “We call you to exercise among us the ministry of Word and Sacrament which God has established and which the Holy Spirit empowers: To preach and teach the Word of God in accordance with the Holy Scriptures and the Lutheran Confessions; to administer Holy Baptism and Holy Communion; to lead us in worship; to proclaim the forgiveness of sins; to provide pastoral care; to speak for justice in behalf of the poor and oppressed; to encourage persons to prepare for the ministry of the Gospel; to impart knowledge of the ELCA and its wider ministry; to endeavor to increase support given by our congregation to the work of our whole church; to equip us for witness and service; and guide us in proclaiming God’s love through word and deed.”

This is my lane. It is also your lane. We don’t gather here just so that we can all get our spiritual feel-good fix for the week. Well, I hope that’s not the only reason you’re here. I hope that you’re here to be challenged. To grow. To learn new things. To be pushed to think and ponder and doubt and ask questions. We’re here to work through the hard things of life together—with the support of others who also have hard things but who share faith in the God of life and love and justice and hope.

We’re here to practice the ways of Christ so that for the next six days, we might work out how to do hospitality and welcome and justice and liberation and grace with those we encounter. We come to begin healing from the many ways in which we stumble over God’s good word. And we are sent out with no guarantees that our life in Christ will be respected by others. Yet, we go. We proclaim. We share. And we love. Because This IS Our Lane.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE