My old high school building is no
more. The city of Akron tore it down
several years ago and rebuilt it. A
group of us got to take a tour of the new facilities the day before our class
reunion. The main entrance is a
three-story atrium and contains an alumni Hall of Fame – about a dozen or so
graduates who went on to do notable things, such as becoming rock stars,
Olympic champions, an astronaut, a TV star, a Blue Angel pilot, a concert
pianist, and a world renowned expert in microbiology. Generally speaking, we Americans are proud of
our local kids who make good. If you
drive into most any small town in our country, chances are good you will see a
sign reading something like, “Welcome to Walton, the childhood home of the
inventor of the Slinky.”
Today’s reading makes it abundantly clear
there will be no sign reading, “Welcome to Nazareth, the hometown of Jesus the
Messiah.” The people who watch Jesus
grow up have heard about his recent exploits in other parts of the region and
are not impressed. When he teaches in
his hometown synagogue those who hear him are “astounded” and take “offense.” “Is this not the carpenter, the son of Mary?”
– because it does not mention the name of his father, this question indicates
the locals believe Jesus to be illegitimate.
That they refer to him as “the carpenter” suggests they want him to
remember his role and station in life.
Apparently the Senior Class did not vote him Most Likely to become the
Savior of the World.
As a result, the person who has been so
effective in his teaching and healing in other places is rendered largely
ineffectual in the town where he grows up.
Jesus is stunned in the face of their unbelief. It has to be one of the real low points in Jesus’
ministry. And it reminds us how there is
a dynamic relationship between the setting and a person’s ability to function
at a high level.
Think about the pitcher who wins twenty
games, signs a huge contract with another team, and then can barely keep a .500
record. Or think about the actress who
stars in a blockbuster movie with one director only to bomb in another with a
different one. I have known countless
clergy who struggle in one parish and then move on to another where their
ministry thrives. Productivity and the
lack there of is tied to setting. Even
Jesus cannot rise above the unbelief of those around him.
But here is what he can do and here is
what he does: he moves on. He has too much respect for himself and what
he is doing to accept the way he is being treated. He determines his mission is too critical,
too important, and too necessary to waste even one single second in a place not
open to it or to him. So, as I say, he
moves on.
It is easy to say, but usually not easy
to do. Economists talk about something
called “sunk costs” and how they play an important psychological role in our
aversion to letting go of something no longer working, be it a business project,
a relationship, or an endeavor in the community. Sunk costs include the time and energy and
emotional resources you have invested in the thing you are struggling to let go
of. They are what you have given that will
be lost if you walk away.
Jesus has thirty years invested in his
relationships with his hometown people. That
is a lot of sunken cost. Still, he knows
enough to know when he has had enough.
He knows enough to know there is no point investing another word or
action in Nazareth. He knows enough to
know opportunities abound elsewhere, new life awaits, and a greater purpose is
on the horizon.
In fact, the possibilities are so great
Jesus cannot possibly tend to them alone.
He sends out his followers with instructions to travel light, to invest themselves
in those who welcome them and their mission, and to move on quickly when they
are not wanted.
If you Google the question “when it is
time to cut your losses and move on” you will be led to manifold websites
telling you the 5, 7, 9, or 12 signs it is time to move on from a project, a
job, a friendship, or a marriage. Here
is a sampling:
When your priorities change and you need to shift your focus on other
things, QUIT.
When it no longer brings you happiness, why prolong the agony? QUIT.
When your current job doesn’t offer you any more growth opportunities and you dread every minute of it, QUIT.
When you are dirt poor because you’ve invested all of your life savings
and [are] deep in debt trying to bring your business back to life, QUIT.
When you think you’ve reached the dead-end of your relationship, QUIT.
When you believe you have done everything humanly possible and have exhausted
all of your efforts in trying to make something work, QUIT.
I like how these statements recognize and
affirm there comes a time when it is time to move on. Still, the formula for making this
determination is far from straightforward.
In fact, often times it is agonizing.
We have been raised in a culture telling us winners never quit and
quitters never win. As John Rector pointed
out to me, the reason the cleaning product is called Formula 409 is because the first 408 formulas didn’t work. We have been raised in a faith tradition
promoting the ideal of “until death do us part.” We people of faith sense a moral imperative
to love unconditionally and infinitely, as we hope and pray God loves us. As a result, most of us – if we are healthy
and stable people – are not wired to quit, to walk away, and to move on.
Here is a question to ponder: What in life is giving you energy and what in
life is draining you? Perhaps you will
recognize some of the most draining things once were sources of great energy,
but everything runs its course. If Jesus
asked himself this question, his answer might be “I am energized by going from
town to town preaching and teaching about the Kingdom of God and I am drained
when I go back to my hometown and experience their unbelief.” What is giving you energy? What is draining you? When something does nothing but drain you, perhaps
this is a clear sign you need to engage some real discernment.
In talking with several of you about
cutting your losses I have come to learn we have all been there, we have all
found the discernment process to be extremely difficult, and self-doubt still
can linger even as new life emerges. I
wonder how many times after today’s reading Jesus contemplates going back to
Nazareth and giving it another go.
The decision to cut your losses and move
on should never be made in isolation. It
is not a brash, knee-jerk reaction to resistance or something you don’t like,
but a fundamental question of your personal value, self-respect, and your sense
of calling and purpose. If you are going
to move on from all the resources you have sunk into something, you want to do
it prayerfully and thoughtfully. You had
better have a good reason for why you are letting go and at least a passionate
hope for what might be ahead.
You will
need the thoughts and feedback of someone who is close, wise, and trustworthy –
a spouse, a friend, a colleague, a therapist, a spiritual advisor. You will need a person who can affirm the difficulty of
the moment, and can reassure you of your competence, your goodness, your
dignity and worth, and God’s promise of a better day to come. You need a person who can say, “It is OK to
shake off the dust on your shoes. God
will give you what you need and I will walk with you to the place where your
will be welcomed, embraced, and affirmed.”
Here is my final thought: Life is not for
sissies. For most of us it is a
challenge much of the time. The good
news is twofold. First, God is with
us. What more can we ask for? Second, God seems to delight in working
through those near to us. We are here
for one another and together we will make it.
