Let us pray: May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God. Amen.

As was suggested in the introduction to the passage from Luke that Lorne just read, the people who chose today's lection made an interesting decision about where the reading would end. If the episode it is describing really ended at the point where today's reading ended, we might have expected the Nazareth village council to make a decision to name a street or building after the local boy, Jesus. As we heard, the congregation at Nazareth synagogue was spellbound by the reading Jesus did from the writings in Isaiah. It is not hard to understand that reaction – those are powerful, inspiring, hopeful, revolutionary words and we can also expect that they were well delivered.

I want to come back to this scene in a moment, but let's take a moment to consider some of the things that this occasion triggers for us.

First, the power of great words, well delivered. There are some who would say that our present day emphasis on fleeting fame, short attention span, sound bites, hyper-text surfing, often unreflected, has led to a diminishment in the power and importance of the spoken word, especially in the form of public speech. I'm not sure of that.

Certainly one of the important contributions that the election of Barack Obama four years ago and his subsequent re-election this past fall, has made in the spirit of the present age, is that inspirational words, powerfully delivered, are a force to be reckoned with. Of course, there are many who would say that powerful words need to be backed up by equally or more powerful actions, but much can be said about the importance of stirring words to motivate a crowd, and prompt transformational action. Pundits and analysts were expectedly drawn to compare the speech that the newly inaugurated second term U.S. President gave this year to the one that drew so many people and so much hope, four years ago. While the crowds were smaller, although certainly not small, and the shine was a bit faded because of the difficulties that Mr. Obama encountered in the viciously partisan environment in the U.S. Political scene, we can still say that many people were once again inspired by powerful words of hope and by the promise of freedom and release for the downtrodden and brokenhearted, that they heard from one of the best orators we've had the privilege to hear in our lifetimes.

Were there not strong parallels between the promises offered by Barack Obama and the ones we heard about as Jesus read from Isaiah in the synagogue?

Now don't get me wrong here, I'm not suggesting that the second coming is upon us. The most vocal critics of President Obama in his first term were people who were most firmly on his side in his first campaign for the presidency, and many of their concerns are certainly worth consideration. The point I want to make is that the power and importance of the spoken word still has a place in the tool chest used to inspire, bring hope and motivate people into the struggle for justice.

I will draw another parallel, but first let me go back to that situation in the synagogue as promised.

Jesus stood and read – powerful, inspiring words – words that were likely familiar to the people attending worship that day – but there was something about the way they were read and there was something about the Spirit present in that situation that compelled them to hear the words with new ears. Perhaps it was the very fact that this was a hometown boy. They had seen this Jesus playing on the streets of Nazareth. They knew this man when he was just a young boy, and here he was, all grown up, confident and spirited.

I expect we've all experienced something similar, drawn to consider someone whom we thought we knew – especially if we knew them as young children – who has suddenly (at least in our minds) blossomed into something and someone that we could never have imagined. It's a tricky situation – because we often do know them better than their contemporaries. We knew them when they accidentally threw a rock through the picture window, or when they were acting up in the school concert, or causing their parents great consternation when they howled in the middle of the grocery store. It's hard to forget those things when these same young ones come back home as adults and demonstrate their intellect, physical prowess, and accomplishments to people who knew them when.

It is hard to come home sometimes – the place where your greatest critics reside.

It can also be wonderful to come home sometimes – where the people who love you most and know you best reside.

How many people in recounting the accomplishments and successes of their lives will tell that their greatest motivation was in finding favour with their parents.

This is the situation for Jesus – back home in Nazareth, and especially if the people were aware of the vocational direction that his life was about to take – speaking before a group of people who were prepared to laud him or subject him to the most critical of analyses.

As mentioned, if the story ended where it did today, we could say that lauding was the ultimate outcome. But the story didn't end there – when the full impact of what Jesus said moved the people to consider what it meant for their lives – that it was a promise of turmoil, upsetting of the status quo, changed circumstances that brought some people down from lofty places in society and raised others up to places of inclusion and justice – well, then the critics took over and mob rule was in force – almost to the point of a public lynching. It sounds alarming familiar to what is happening in the United States.

I mentioned that I would draw another parallel and this is it – that the promise of justice – which sounds like a no-brainer – how could it be anything else but the way to be, we might ask; to expect that God's promise for everyone is to be treated as equals, to be included in the circle, to be part of that body that Paul talked about – each of us doing our part – the lesser parts, as Paul suggested, having the more important roles.

But the fact is that it is not a no-brainer for everyone. Promises that things must change are not good for the currently privileged – for those who are living the good life the promise of change means a diminishing of that which leads to all that goodness.

And I suspect that it hurts more when this obvious, but unaccepted truth is delivered by a local boy. It's one thing to be called to account by an outsider – someone from away – but when it's a local, someone we've known since infancy, someone who played with our own kids – well that's too hard to take.

Coming home – not always the Hallmark phrase we imagine it to be – sometimes the most difficult place to return in all our lives, sometimes the place where we never can quite grow up, sometimes the place where our relationships are tested and stretched in directions that are different from any other place or time in our lives.

And finally, let me bring it home. You may wonder why I seem to have focussed on happenings in the United States this week and the election and inauguration of someone whom we couldn't vote for and with whom we have little influence. One obvious answer, of course is the importance that the United States of America has in the world, and even closer the importance of our relationship with a large, powerful and close neighbour. But another reason is that it is always easier to see what's happening somewhere else. We can see things much more clearly when it's minimally about us.

But this is not minimally about us. It's all about us. Jesus stood and spoke just as clearly and piercingly to us, as he did to the Nazareth congregation. Are our ears, hearts and minds sufficiently open that we hear, feel and think of what those words mean to us as well? I wonder.... Amen