I Rarely Venture Out These Days

On a typical winter day, literally, thousands of folks from the northern parts of America flock to the beaches of Fort Myers, Captiva, Sanibel, Pine Island, Bonita Beach, and Naples.  These  beautiful public parks and beaches with nature trails and a sandy shoreline meanders alongside the Gulf of Mexico.  Children play in the sand, families bring picnics, people walk, bike, kayak, sail, sun bath, skim board and the dogs of pet owner frolic in the nearby dog parks. 

When younger, Bettyann and I, as a regular part of our weekly, Saturday routine, wandered along the famous Lighthouse Beach just a few miles from our home. We have given little interest, at our age, of venturing out as often, bear footed, seeking the most beautiful shells that may have their way on the beach in the receding tide.  But when we do; the bucolic life is still played out on the same beach and I suspect that the similar scenes of the same are norm all over the world in communities just like the one we live in; homogeneous groups gathering to enjoy all of nature's bounty together.  Seemingly without care, life rolls along gently with abundance and blessing.

Then, there was the production of a film called No Country for Old Men, which I watched with disgust, which presented scenes radically different from the ones I've seen at any visits to the beaches here.  Random, cruel, and senseless violence committed against innocent persons serves as the bleak backdrop of a nihilistic world in which cruelty and evil conquer goodness.  There are no tranquil landscapes to enjoy.  The ravages of savagery fill scene after scene.  While not based on actual events, the violence depicted in the film could accurately capture the climate in many areas around the world, where the innocent and the guilty alike are gunned down in cold blood for no reason except the living out of Nietzsche's cruel description of the "will to power."  Just two weeks ago, not in a movie scene, yet captured on film in real live time, diabolical people sent a caged living man into eternity, by burning him into an ash heap. They stood there watching, with everything but regret.

This film and this real hell bent act, unlike any other, made me wonder about the reach of the good news of the gospel that I as a strong, seventy one year old, believer in Christ, proclaim.  In other words, is the good news only good for those who dwell on the beach, in pastoral landscapes of comfort and joy with others just like myself?  Or is it something intended to go beyond my close circle of friends?  Is the gospel reaching beyond those who are like me, and reaching out to those who are different from me?  Does the gospel make a difference in a world like the one depicted in this harrowing film and this act of senseless, immoral, horrible killing?  For if the gospel isn't making a difference in places where violence and suffering are a way of life, is it making a difference at all?    

When Jesus of Nazareth began his public ministry as recorded in Luke's gospel, he went into the synagogue in his hometown and read from the prophet Isaiah: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because He appointed me to preach the gospel to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are downtrodden, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor" (Isaiah 61:1-3; Luke 4:16-19.  Then he proclaimed that this Scripture had been fulfilled—right there among his own circle of friends.  Luke comments that "all were speaking well of him."  After all, he was one of their own—from the same community deserving of the Lord's favor—enjoying God's bounty and blessing. 

But Jesus applies this prophetic utterance in a wholly disruptive manner.  The great prophets of Israel, Elijah and Elisha, were not sent to provide and bless their own people with release, recovery, and the Lord's favor.  No, Jesus tells them, "There were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah, when the sky was shut up for three years and six months, when a great famine came over all the land; and yet Elijah was sent to none of them, but only to Zarephath, in the land of Sidon, to a woman who was a widow.  And there were many lepers in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet; and none of them was cleansed, but only Naaman the Syrian."  Luke tells us that immediately those who were once speaking well of Jesus now were "filled with rage" Luke 4:22-30.  Words of flattery turned to violent action.  They took Jesus and intended to throw him off a cliff.  

The teaching and ministry of Jesus went beyond a close circle of familiar friends.  Luke's narrative makes this point.  For immediately following this scene in the synagogue in Nazareth, Jesus goes out to Galilee to heal a man with an unclean spirit.  Galilee, Isaiah prophesied, is "Galilee of the Gentiles.  The people who walk in darkness will see a great light" Isaiah 9:1-2.  Not only does the gospel go out beyond the boundaries of ethnic Israel, but it also goes out into the realm of evil, healing what was disordered and violent. Luke 4:31-37. 

Today, with tears and a heart full of sorrow, I ask myself: Is the gospel I proclaim really about preaching the good news to the afflicted, proclaiming release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind?  Does the gospel set free those who are downtrodden, and present the year of the Lord's favor to those who live under clouds of disdain?  I understand that the good news is needed on the beach.  Yet, I , today, am concerned that at times my gospel stays safely among my friends, not venturing far beyond that bucolic shoreline.  Staying among those who "speak well of me," I rarely venture out to the Galilee of the Gentiles, where darkness is the great light and where good news is but a fading rumor.  But it is in this world, far beyond my close circle of friends, where the good news truly is good news.

Father, may You be glorified as I venture out further to share the good news of the Gospel! Amen