Appearances Can Be Deceiving

How quickly do we judge a person based on their appearance, their background, or their status?

What does a king look like?

What does a Messiah look like?

Do our eyes demand outward evidence of power, height, or political strength?

Are we quick to assume that we know all about a person at first glance?

If Christ were here with us in this room today, would we be quick to follow him? Or would we worry that this strange man might get blood on the carpet?

This week we move into Luke’s gospel, where we see that Christ is presented as the great reverser: the one who takes the expectations of the world and turns them on their head. The one who shows that God sees past those things on which we place value, and instead emphasises a different way.

A way which points beyond our petty squabbles and vain desires, and highlights those things which are most important.

And in today’s readings we see this message highlighted not only at a pivotal moment in Christ’s early ministry, but also in a much earlier incident involving Christ’s human ancestor David, the greatest of the kings of Israel.

In the old testament reading, we join Samuel the prophet and judge as God has sent him to the house of Jesse, whose son he is to anoint as the new King of Israel.

He invites Jesse and his sons with him to offer a sacrifice, and has each of them pass before him. And we aren’t told what each of these men looked like, but we can assume they would have been imposing: they were experienced shepherds, a physically demanding and often dangerous job which required strength and stamina and courage.

The fact the Lord specifically tells Samuel not to look on the height of Eliab’s stature emphasises this: when David’s predecessor, the then-current king Saul, was introduced in an early chapter it was with an assertion that he was “taller than any of the people,” and later that he stood “head and shoulders above any of the others.”

No doubt Samuel was thinking of the one God had previously sent him to anoint when he looked upon the sons of Jesse.

Yet instead he is surprised to hear,   

1 Samuel 16:7 NRSV

“Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature...for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”

The Lord looks on the heart.

When the Israelites initially demanded “a king like all the nations”, the Lord recognised that this was a rejection of His rule in favour of human rule. A rejection of the covenant community laid out in the laws of Moses, in favour of being more like the surrounding nations.

And so He gave them a king like the surrounding nations: a king who was taller and more desirable than any other man in Israel. A powerful and imposing man who met the people’s standards for what a king should look like.

A king who failed in his divine mandate by repeatedly rejecting God’s commands.

A man whose spiritual rebellion would lead to a downward spiral of self-interest, paranoia, and brutal oppression of his perceived enemies.

A King who demonstrated that outward appearance and even divine anointment are useless without an inward obedience.

And so when Samuel hears the Lord tell him “do not look upon his appearance, for I have rejected him” he undoubtedly realises that the Lord is speaking not just of Eliab but also of Saul, the rejected King.

And so God has picked out a replacement, a man “after his own heart”.

1 Samuel 13:13–14 NRSV

Samuel said to Saul, “You have done foolishly; you have not kept the commandment of the Lord your God, which he commanded you. The Lord would have established your kingdom over Israel forever, but now your kingdom will not continue; the Lord has sought out a man after his own heart; and the Lord has appointed him to be ruler over his people, because you have not kept what the Lord commanded you.”

A man who does not physically match Saul, but rather the youngest and least experienced of the shepherd brothers. A man who is “ruddy” and “handsome” and has “beautiful eyes”. Where Saul looked like a warrior who would be a mighty leader, David was pleasing to the eye in his youthful attractiveness and had eyes - the window of the soul - which indicated an inner gentleness or clarity of the spirit. A thoughtful intelligence.

A man who would not be immune to failure or disobedience - most famously he would abuse the power of his potion to have another man killed and to take his wife for himself - but who yet would accept the wrongness and consequences of his actions, and take on a position of sincere repentance.

A man who would be the military leader that the people desired in a king, but also a poet who would compose around half of the book of Psalms.

A man after the heart of God, who looks beyond outward appearances to focus on the people as they are.

A king not like those of the other nations, but rather a foreshadowing of the promised ruler of the kingdom of heaven which was to come.

A king whose descendant some thousand years later would fulfil that promise.

The Spirit of the Lord

And in first century Nazareth, that promised king declares his mission.

As you’ll remember from previous weeks, for the majority of Christ’s early public ministry he had established his home in Capernaum.

And today we see the account ofwhy it was that he chose there, and not his hometown of Nazareth.

And this account may seem confusing at first: Christ stands and reads from the prophet Isaiah, a passage referring to one who will bring good news to the poor, freedom to the prisoner, sigh to the blind, and an end of oppression. And then he declares that the scripture has been fulfilled: a clear statement that he is the one to do these things.

As a quick side-note: this passage isn’t one of Isaiah’s servant songs which we looked at during our readings on Mark’s gospel, but its beginning with “the Spirit of the Lord is upon me” marks it as being a similar figure, and suggests that we should see it as continuing in that theme.

Those listening to Christ make this declaration would have understood this passage as being one about the restoration of Israel. They would have heard Jesus declaring that he was the one who would save them from the Roman occupation and establish an age of justice and liberation for their people.

And their reaction to this is initially a positive one: we’re told that the eyes of everyone on the synagogue were fixed on him after he read the passage from Isaiah and sat down - they understood that this move from standing to seated, most likely in the seat of authority for a rabbi, signalled that he was about to pronounce his interpretation of the scripture that had been read and it seems that they were all eager to hear what he had to say.

We’re told that after he proclaimed the fulfilment of the scripture the people were amazed by gracious words and spoke well of him. Perhaps we can imagine the excitement as they hear this authoritative declaration that something big is about to happen. The atmosphere is buzzing. If this was a movie, it would be the big climactic speech in which the music swells as the hero reaches his final statement, and the crowd erupts in applause and the elderly mentor standing to the side nods and smiles proudly and the audience watching on the other side of the screen is filled with emotion and understands that everything is going to be alright.

But this isn’t a movie.

And this speech was not the climax, but the beginning.

Instead, excitement quickly gives way to doubt. A rummer rises, “isn’t this Joseph’s son?”

“Isn’t this the son of Joseph, the carpenter? This is the man who helped fix my roof last winter, and he’s telling us that he’s going to bring redemption to our people?”

To which Christ announces that they’re going to reject him because a prophet is is never accepted in his hometown. And then he says something so incisive that they try to kill him!

Luke 4:24–27 NRSV

The truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.”

Christ is saying two things here.

First there’s the obvious surface level point: that the people of Nazareth should not expect to see signs and wonders from him just because he’s a local. In fact he emphasises that the great Israelite prophets Elijah and Elisha performed wonders not for the Israelites but for people who would be deemed “outsiders.”

But more than that, there’s an implied criticism. The famine he speaks of was a punishment from God for Israel’s turning to the worship of Baal, and Elijah’s being sent to Zarepath in Sidon carries an implication that there were no faithful in Israel with whom he could safely find comfort and shelter. And worse, both the widow and the leper were gentiles.

The message to the people of Nazareth is clear: their lack of faith, as highlighted by their questioning what right the son of Joseph has to place himself in the seat of a rabbi and make the claims he has,

claims that are not merely a commentary on scripture but a declaration of the fulfilment of prophecy,

their lack of faith means that he will take that message of good news and freedom and healing and he’ll take it to the gentiles.

To their ears, he declares that rather than liberate God’s people, God will abandon them and pour blessings on other nations. Perhaps even the occupying empire which they so long to overthrow.

And to hear the son of Joseph make these claims from the place of teaching authority in the synagogue is such an offence, such a blasphemy, that they become so angry they attempt to throw him from a hill.

And yet they were unable to do so - whether through some miraculous disappearance or the application of that same divine authority with which he spoke in the synagogue, the Son of God would not allow any to end his life before the appointed time and he simply passes through the crowd and leaves.

Did they lack conviction in their aims to kill him? No. The sovereignty of God was greater than their wrath.

Like their ancestors before them, the people of Nazareth have judged by appearances and in doing so they have missed the point.

Just as Samuel expected the new king to be to be a tall and strong warrior, and Jesse’s youngest and most sensitive son was initially overlooked so to have they been unable to fathom that the son of Joseph the Carpenter could speak with the authority to declare that he is the one who will fulfil prophecy.

So focussed are they on their own interpretation - the belief that God’s promised deliverance is exclusively for the nation of Israel - that they cannot comprehend the suggestion that it will be extended to all of the nations.

They expect God to look with favour on them for who they are, forgetting that God sees to the heart.

But Christ has come to reverse their expectations.

A great reversal

This reversal takes several forms.

There’s a reversal of the expectation of what the messiah will look like.

There’s a reversal of the expectation that God’s plan is to be reserved for the people of Israel.

And there’s also a more subtle reversal.

Look back at verse 19.

Luke 4:19 NRSV

“[He has sent me] to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

“He has sent me...to proclaim the year of the lord’s favour.”

And then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down.

To someone familiar with the scroll, something would be immediately noticeable: he didn’t finish the passage. In fact, he didn’t finish the sentence. Because the full sentence says

Isaiah 61:1–2 NRSV

[He has sent me] to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God;

To the original reader, it would be clear that these two things came together. The year of the Lord’s favour when the oppressed were freed from bondage was also the day of vengeance, when the oppressor would receive justice.

But instead the passage is broken up. The day of judgment and wrath is postponed until Christ’s return, and he states unequivocally that the focus of his earthly ministry was to be upon restoration.

And it would be a restoration not merely of Israel but extended to all nations.

Not a political restoration. Not a national restoration. A restoration of the original relationship between God and His creation that was severed in the garden.

A restoration bringing with it the forgiveness of sins.

A restoration which brings good news not just to the poor of Israel, but to the poor of the world.

A restoration which proclaims release not just to the captive imprisoned by an oppressive Roman empire, but to all captives.

A restoration of sight to the blind of all nations

A restoration that ends all oppression.

A year of God’s favour which began that day in Nazareth, and continues on through today and until that time when he returns to judge the world.

Because whilst wrath and vengeance may be a natural human desire, God is merciful. He desires that all be given the opportunity to repent.

And so he sent his Son to offer us that restoration.

A call to discernment

As for us today, in the year of the Lord’s favour, where are we still looking for the King of Glory with eyes that look upon appearances, rather than with hearts that are after that of God?

Where do we look for displays of power, where we should seek humility?

Where are we demanding wrath, and so missing out on deliverance?

Do we demand a warrior and overlook the shepherd?

Does our desire for a powerful and charismatic leader cause us to reject the carpenter’s son?

It’s tempting, and if we’re honest not difficult, to focus on appearances. On what we assume to be true. On what our leaders or teachers or TV presenters have told us. On what common sense demands.

But God sees past appearances to the heart.

He calls us to follow not our own desires, but to be a part of his great and sovereign plan.

And even today, he continues to be the great reverser.