Jesus's Favorite City
CAPHARNAUM + Matthew 4:12-23 + Isaiah 8:23 + 1 Cor. 1:10-17
Only recently I was astonished to learn that the French have taken the name of the town Jesus adopted: “Capharnaum” (as it was originally rendered in Greek letters); and collapsing the capital “C” to lower case, they have created a new expression that means: “A congested and disorderly place, a confused jumble of things.” E.g., a parent walks into the room of one of the children and exclaims: “This place is a capharnaum!”
The term isn’t meant to disparage the quaint fishing villages, in the north of Israel on the shore of the idyllic Sea of Galilee, where Peter and Andrew, and James and John and the Zebedee Family lived and worked. Rather, it highlights the destiny of the ancient town, which, because of Jesus’s presence, swelled with crowds of chronically ill and handicapped people. How the helpless, agitated, and hysterically possessed men and women were drawn by Jesus, true Son of David, the Prophet who was promised. In Peter’s home, Jesus cured his mother-in-law, and then crowds of people came bringing all their troubles to Him.
In a wonderful manifestation of Providence, the name of Capharnaum or Capernaum derives from = Kfar Nahum = Village of the Prophet Nahum. (“Nahum” means Consolation). The Lamb who would take upon himself the sins of the world is the greatest of all Consolers.
The Galilee was first the inheritance of Jacob’s sons: Naphtali and Zebulon. This is where Capernaum and Nazareth are located. In the time of Jesus, Galilee was the afterthought of the Land of Israel, half of a splintered kingdom from the time of Solomon’s sons, the unruly and rebellious north, separated from Judea and Jerusalem by the land of the Samaritans. Besides, the Galilean accent was considered uncultured. Isaiah in the first reading speaks of the humiliation and darkness of that land; but, with Christ’s coming, it is exalted, and a great brightness illuminates everything. In this place the Sermon on the Mount was given, the greatest ever given.
By his unpretentious choice of fishermen, Jesus, the Light of the World, teaches us a great lesson. Except for Mathew and Paul, we know nothing about what the other Apostles did for a living. They could have been farmers and merchants, or artisans like Joseph and Jesus. They are down-to-earth people, who cannot put on airs of pomposity even if they tried. Christ’s teaching is divine and not the invention of learned philosophers and rabbinical scholars. His wisdom is God’s wisdom that must nourish all people for all time. In the Galilee he fed more than 5,000; and a Fish became a symbol of the Christian faith from the very beginning. And the loaves of bread with the fish, the Eucharist.
We have come here to celebrate the Holy Eucharist—the perennial sacrifice of thanksgiving—because those fishermen and their companions freely responded to the call of Christ. Then, they listened to him, took it into their hearts, remained loyal, and preached the Gospel. Most of them died for the love of Jesus. However, not everyone that Jesus called actually followed Him. Some saw him on the cross, shrugged their shoulders, and went their own way. Our own following Christ also means that we let Him lead the way.
Yet, think of Abraham and Moses—it didn’t seem they had a choice—Moses tried to excuse himself because he couldn’t speak very well. God called to him from a burning bush. Who could say “No” to that? The bush, of course, was not God. The ancient Fathers compared the Virgin Mary to that bush: the Word came forth from her, and though she was not divine, she was blessed with the innocence of a purifying fire. Unlike Moses, she was asked to accept.
Moses asked God for His name; God would thenceforth be referred to in the third person: “He who is”. Eventually no Jew will be allowed to use that Holy Name. And here is the Son of Mary and Joseph, the Prophet-carpenter, walking about Galilee, being called “Jesus”. John the Baptist calls him the Lamb…John the Apostle will say he is Love.
Each of us is represented by a name. But, as we learn from the Book of Revelation (2:17), the Father has a name that he holds deeply and endearingly in his heart for those who will endure and be victorious over evil. And in his little book, School for Prayer, the late Metropolitan Anthony, the late vicar for the Russian Orthodox Church of Britain, says that we too may choose our very own name for God. Jesus instructed his Apostles to pray: “Father in heaven…” This gives us an intimacy with the Almighty. Calling God: “Abba” is the affectionate language of a child, not a servant. King David calls God: “My stronghold…My joy” (Psalm 43). Our addressing God with endearing terms is a mark of real prayer. When praying for others, we usually present God with a name, representing a person.
The Corinthians disappointed St Paul by identifying themselves and their groups by the name of a human teacher, and not by the name of Jesus Christ. Petrines (Cephas), Paulines, Apollonians (Apollos was the eloquent and elegant one—Paul was homely, not Jewish enough, and less fluent). Simon-Peter was the Jew for the Jewish Christians.
Why can’t I be comfortably “Christian” all by myself; just me with no church, parish, pope, minister, or bishop? Ah, peace at last! But there is an old Latin saying: unus christianus, nullus christianus—una persona, nulla persona—to be human is to be dialogic—in conversation—to FACE (prosopon) the other person (face)—we need the other to be ourselves, to paraphrase Bishop Kallistos Ware—in the search for Christian Unity.
Christ the Light of the World is also my personal Light, who exorcises my inner darkness; without Him we cannot see the world as it should be seen. Far too many false icons and ideologies themselves have become idols, idols that ask for blood: money, abortion, technology, sex, celebrity, power, violence, and all the things that torment human lives and convulse the world.
To expel this darkness, Christ calls some to give themselves, offer their lives expecting nothing in return. This is the highest form of love, the way he loves us. This is loving one another and the world as Christ loves us and the world.
The Light truly came to Zebulon and Naphtali, and illuminates our world today. We have to live in the light and allow Christ to be reflected. By the light of Christ we see one another as we ought to see each other. And from that revelation, we see what must be done for the other.
We are shown by Christ what really should be done to heal our world both nearby and far afield. And it is by his light and grace that you and I address, call upon, and thank our heavenly Father, and day by day, come ever nearer to him.
AMEN.
Only recently I was astonished to learn that the French have taken the name of the town Jesus adopted: “Capharnaum” (as it was originally rendered in Greek letters); and collapsing the capital “C” to lower case, they have created a new expression that means: “A congested and disorderly place, a confused jumble of things.” E.g., a parent walks into the room of one of the children and exclaims: “This place is a capharnaum!”
The term isn’t meant to disparage the quaint fishing villages, in the north of Israel on the shore of the idyllic Sea of Galilee, where Peter and Andrew, and James and John and the Zebedee Family lived and worked. Rather, it highlights the destiny of the ancient town, which, because of Jesus’s presence, swelled with crowds of chronically ill and handicapped people. How the helpless, agitated, and hysterically possessed men and women were drawn by Jesus, true Son of David, the Prophet who was promised. In Peter’s home, Jesus cured his mother-in-law, and then crowds of people came bringing all their troubles to Him.
In a wonderful manifestation of Providence, the name of Capharnaum or Capernaum derives from = Kfar Nahum = Village of the Prophet Nahum. (“Nahum” means Consolation). The Lamb who would take upon himself the sins of the world is the greatest of all Consolers.
The Galilee was first the inheritance of Jacob’s sons: Naphtali and Zebulon. This is where Capernaum and Nazareth are located. In the time of Jesus, Galilee was the afterthought of the Land of Israel, half of a splintered kingdom from the time of Solomon’s sons, the unruly and rebellious north, separated from Judea and Jerusalem by the land of the Samaritans. Besides, the Galilean accent was considered uncultured. Isaiah in the first reading speaks of the humiliation and darkness of that land; but, with Christ’s coming, it is exalted, and a great brightness illuminates everything. In this place the Sermon on the Mount was given, the greatest ever given.
By his unpretentious choice of fishermen, Jesus, the Light of the World, teaches us a great lesson. Except for Mathew and Paul, we know nothing about what the other Apostles did for a living. They could have been farmers and merchants, or artisans like Joseph and Jesus. They are down-to-earth people, who cannot put on airs of pomposity even if they tried. Christ’s teaching is divine and not the invention of learned philosophers and rabbinical scholars. His wisdom is God’s wisdom that must nourish all people for all time. In the Galilee he fed more than 5,000; and a Fish became a symbol of the Christian faith from the very beginning. And the loaves of bread with the fish, the Eucharist.
We have come here to celebrate the Holy Eucharist—the perennial sacrifice of thanksgiving—because those fishermen and their companions freely responded to the call of Christ. Then, they listened to him, took it into their hearts, remained loyal, and preached the Gospel. Most of them died for the love of Jesus. However, not everyone that Jesus called actually followed Him. Some saw him on the cross, shrugged their shoulders, and went their own way. Our own following Christ also means that we let Him lead the way.
Yet, think of Abraham and Moses—it didn’t seem they had a choice—Moses tried to excuse himself because he couldn’t speak very well. God called to him from a burning bush. Who could say “No” to that? The bush, of course, was not God. The ancient Fathers compared the Virgin Mary to that bush: the Word came forth from her, and though she was not divine, she was blessed with the innocence of a purifying fire. Unlike Moses, she was asked to accept.
Moses asked God for His name; God would thenceforth be referred to in the third person: “He who is”. Eventually no Jew will be allowed to use that Holy Name. And here is the Son of Mary and Joseph, the Prophet-carpenter, walking about Galilee, being called “Jesus”. John the Baptist calls him the Lamb…John the Apostle will say he is Love.
Each of us is represented by a name. But, as we learn from the Book of Revelation (2:17), the Father has a name that he holds deeply and endearingly in his heart for those who will endure and be victorious over evil. And in his little book, School for Prayer, the late Metropolitan Anthony, the late vicar for the Russian Orthodox Church of Britain, says that we too may choose our very own name for God. Jesus instructed his Apostles to pray: “Father in heaven…” This gives us an intimacy with the Almighty. Calling God: “Abba” is the affectionate language of a child, not a servant. King David calls God: “My stronghold…My joy” (Psalm 43). Our addressing God with endearing terms is a mark of real prayer. When praying for others, we usually present God with a name, representing a person.
The Corinthians disappointed St Paul by identifying themselves and their groups by the name of a human teacher, and not by the name of Jesus Christ. Petrines (Cephas), Paulines, Apollonians (Apollos was the eloquent and elegant one—Paul was homely, not Jewish enough, and less fluent). Simon-Peter was the Jew for the Jewish Christians.
Why can’t I be comfortably “Christian” all by myself; just me with no church, parish, pope, minister, or bishop? Ah, peace at last! But there is an old Latin saying: unus christianus, nullus christianus—una persona, nulla persona—to be human is to be dialogic—in conversation—to FACE (prosopon) the other person (face)—we need the other to be ourselves, to paraphrase Bishop Kallistos Ware—in the search for Christian Unity.
Christ the Light of the World is also my personal Light, who exorcises my inner darkness; without Him we cannot see the world as it should be seen. Far too many false icons and ideologies themselves have become idols, idols that ask for blood: money, abortion, technology, sex, celebrity, power, violence, and all the things that torment human lives and convulse the world.
To expel this darkness, Christ calls some to give themselves, offer their lives expecting nothing in return. This is the highest form of love, the way he loves us. This is loving one another and the world as Christ loves us and the world.
The Light truly came to Zebulon and Naphtali, and illuminates our world today. We have to live in the light and allow Christ to be reflected. By the light of Christ we see one another as we ought to see each other. And from that revelation, we see what must be done for the other.
We are shown by Christ what really should be done to heal our world both nearby and far afield. And it is by his light and grace that you and I address, call upon, and thank our heavenly Father, and day by day, come ever nearer to him.
AMEN.